The voice, upbeat in something that's a ridiculous-sounding sibling to a Bronx accent, comes from the back. The man of the house makes himself present after just a minute, wrapped up in the middle of shuffling off a new-but-already-thoroughly-stained apron to hang by the entrance to the kitchen. In spite of his slightly absurd appearance, he holds himself tall (well, as tall as he can, being fairly short) and proud, giving John a grin that practically radiates enthusiasm.
"Hey, nice to meet'cha! Yew here from the ad?" Cripes, this guy is tall. Why is everybody here so godsdamned tall? And he looks like he could break Hector in half if he tried. (They need that kind of muscle, though, honestly.) That doesn't stop him from offering a hand to shake, fuzzy and clawed but ever-confident. "I'm Hector! And who do I got tha pleasure of speakin' with today?"
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The voice, upbeat in something that's a ridiculous-sounding sibling to a Bronx accent, comes from the back. The man of the house makes himself present after just a minute, wrapped up in the middle of shuffling off a new-but-already-thoroughly-stained apron to hang by the entrance to the kitchen. In spite of his slightly absurd appearance, he holds himself tall (well, as tall as he can, being fairly short) and proud, giving John a grin that practically radiates enthusiasm.
"Hey, nice to meet'cha! Yew here from the ad?" Cripes, this guy is tall. Why is everybody here so godsdamned tall? And he looks like he could break Hector in half if he tried. (They need that kind of muscle, though, honestly.) That doesn't stop him from offering a hand to shake, fuzzy and clawed but ever-confident. "I'm Hector! And who do I got tha pleasure of speakin' with today?"