Even in spite of a heavy blanket of sweet mayonnaise, diners still found their way to, and ate, the shrimp and pineapple. Even after one Canadian, Andre, tried to de-wing the god for a nosh, he remained standing and proud ( after he was stood back up by the drop-mouthed Taiwanese at the table). Even after another Canadian, Josh, tried to clean him of cigarette ashes on his...um...upper, inner thigh, he remained firm.
In all fairness to Andre, the god's wings were facing him and he just looked like a big, fat carrot. In Josh's defense, he was cleaning it up because we couldn't take it with us. We had to give it back and he had no way of knowing if the next patron preferred regular or menthol.