"Su'pwise, mo'fuckah!".<br/><br/>Somebody entered through the apartment boisterously and unceremoniously. This somebody was a man, and his shoulder-length blonde hair was so messy, it more likely resembled the bristles of a ill-maintained paintbrush with all sorts of colors staining various strands in a random pattern. His fair complexion and blue eyes did not detract from the fact that a seemingly smug smile was the default expression he had, and indeed he had an air of obnoxious pride from him. His clothes were simply blue jeans, sandals and a tie-dye shirt.<br/><br/>As he approached Maria to the dining table, the significant height difference became more apparent. He said to her, "Y'all, I smelled sumfin' cookin' der and I thought it wuz catfish or som' shit. Smells delicious, I tell ya'. Ya' got 'em fresh o' fuckin' whut?"<br/><br/>He then saw the pitcher of cherry lemonade. "Dayum," he said. "Dat drink iz tha' stuff of legends, ya' know? Wha's it, rapsberry or strawberry?"<br/><br/>"But goddamn, that last match we had was cake-fuckin'walk," he commented with a hint of disappointment. "Only proves tha' real talk I've been tellin' to e'erybody. Fuckin' magefaggots don't even lift. So they got 'recked 'n' smacked da shit out, an' even afta' dat, they still act like a buncha' hard-asses. I missed dat team from last month, ya' kno'? Used magic to get swole and buff their shit up. Put up a good damn fight, I tell ya'."<br/><br/>"So yeah, next fight's gonna come up soon. What's in it fo' us?" Neo asked Maria.