Saburo lounged contentedly in the radio studio, plucking the next poem from a stack of postcards he had selected. The writings of eager young girls from across inner Tokyo waited for him there, each creation containing a profound, arguably ridiculous amount of hope that a particular radio show host with an attractive voice and an unknown face would recite it...
...With DJ 623's dreamy voice. A twitch of a smile appeared, tinted with more amusement than pride.
He spoke without glancing at the poem in its entirety first; it was all habit by now. Perhaps that had been a mistake.
"Burning spices melt together with love as their acidic catalyst... Curry forms smoothly as the colorful vegetables merge-" Saburo stopped, narrowing his eyes at the paper at the same moment that each and every one of those eager young girls who had been listening widened theirs in horrified disbelief. How had there artistic idol allowed something so... bizarre to mix with their words of love and sugar?