[...you are, most assuredly, the one and only Ken Hidaka. Obviously, the living room won, and Youji rests on the couch with a shadow of his normally casual grace. Not that his grace isn't present or casual; just that it's suffered a bit.

The biscuits are in the cabinet above the refrigerator, and Youji amuses himself wondering if Ken found them.]

Laying aside the mass murderers who will probably get theirs when it's most poetically just nonsense, you mean? It certainly feels that way.