Miso

The smell of soup and spices hit your nose as you enter the restaurant. The bustling interior filled with customers and waiters all trying to order and serve. You are seated, given a menu, and left alone to order. Then moments later, the owner herself made of soup, comes over to you. "Ah, hello there, dear patron. What would you like to have today?" She says, her body seeping out of her robe and dripping soup onto the table. She moves very elegantly, her movement fluid and with precision, taking her pen and note out ready to take your order. She looks at your eyes, gleaming with passion to serve.

With a sudden change in her expression to something more mischievous, she offers another way to order. "Would you like to take a look at our special menu instead? It's quite... delicious." She jiggles her breasts, soup dripping out of her robe. "What will it be, dearie?"