There is a short squinty-eyed man standing by the entrance, who tries his best to look idle and bored - and yet fails miserably; the kind of man you'd hardly want to look twice at. "Up to no good" is the general impression he'll give to a passer-by. As the last customer leaves the fortune teller's tent, this man adjusts his cloak, takes the last wary look around and dives inside without a sound.<br/><br/>"Oi. Knock-knock! The forchun tella? Ma'a.. I mean, Madame?" The man's eyes greedily dart around the room. "Name's, uh, Bob. I'm a big fan of this, this abracadabra thing.<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 7pt;">Nice candelabras.</span>"<br/><br/>The man apparently called Bob walks towards the chair and stops near it, unsure.<br/>"Nice weather we're having. So, yeah. I got this, this '<em>interprise</em>' thing going on right now, and, well... could really use some fortune, right? Draw me some fancy ones, will ya? I mean, please?"<br/><br/>Bob sits down in one smooth move and casually puts his hands on the table. Right near the candelabra. "Cheers."