The port tavern is the shadiest of all the shady bars in the city. Every night, on its grimy stools at the wooden bar, you can find some of the slimiest sailors in the world. The walls are of peeling blue paint and are always dripping with condensation. Women of ill-repute line one wall, old men on the verge of passing out line another. The floor is littered with trash, barnacles, and bodily fluids. Tending the bar is a small, round man with a bushy mustache.
Port Tavern, Port
a round man with a bushy mustache
person
I am very hungry and very sick. I ended up homeless because I refused to do what my family wanted and was disowned. I look for scraps to feed my empty belly, while others look down on me.
Please...you look so portly...please give me some food. Ha! I only eat the finest of deserts, I would never hand them off to someone I did not know. Sir, look at my figure. I am a but a twig. You can afford one cake for me, so that I may not die! You come to the shadiest of all bar in the city, and expect us to just hand you food? Does it look like we have money with the walls peeling? Then I will sit here next to you, staring, until I die. Well you better hurry up and die, or your going to be sitting here for a long time. I will litter the floor with you. Perhaps I will sit under your MOUTH and catch the crumbs that fall from it! Why would you pick the roundest guy of them all to approuch.  Because lord knows you stuff your face with anything edible. You'd probably eat me if you could! You hardly have any meat on your bones to eat. I guess I could floss with you. You insult me as I die....here I go....scorning you along the way.... Goodbye.