And so she occupied her mouth with eating to disguise her disdain. Soft, wet pickles squeezed themselves out of her Whopper as it took the brunt of two of her many clenches, the fists and the teeth. The water from a tomato dribbled gaily down her jaw and beaded like dew on the soft faint fuzz of her chin. Mayonnaise and meat juices engulfed her fingers. And yet, she could not avert her gaze, and upon taking in all she could of this goliath bite, she reoriented her burger so that its buns were perpendicular to the tangent plane of the earth, mostly covering her mouth and nose, and she began to chew, gaze intact, so mechanically, hydraulically, powerfully, and automatically that she could not tell what was tongue and what was beef.