The Journey of an Ou

His portly belly strained against his soiled, floral-patterned shirt, while his face was covered in a tangle of white whiskers like tangled electrical wires. His sparse hair, barely enough to count on one hand, failed to conceal his shiny scalp. Coupled with his textbook-perfect beer gut, this short, stout old man's first impression wasn't exactly charming.,Old Jack instinctively shielded his head, then roared when he saw what had happened: "Heather! You've wrecked my shipping container again! And the old shop door!",Izunagabe's cold sweat finally trickled down his forehead.。