Our hero: A giant bear of a man, with the body hair to support that size. He is some time's witty, always in his own world, typically blunt and too the point. He is a moocher, but not enough to let those whom he mooches from detest him. His power: he's not quite sure, but he is certain he has one. His flaw, falling in love with women that he knows he never has a shot with, typically of the religious variety, or the already taken variety, sometimes both (when he's feeling sure of his uncommitment to settle down). What makes him angry? Losing friends, either through stupid actions, or in-action.
His quest: To find that moment of bliss, whatever, and whereever it is.
His tactics: Blowing shit up in the recesses of his mind.
His Successes: A few.
His failures: More than he cares to count.
His Vices: Blowing shit up in the recesses of his mind, and flagelleting dead chickens.
His special move: The Dance of seduction, which has yet to work.
His Weakness: Uh... naked ladies, and food, and pigeon poop (just like kryptonite).
posted by F.G. Shaw @ 6:16 PM
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