Okay, I was a little overweight, that could not deny. Had always been a rounded human, as a child, and that had cost him many fights at recess or departure, at the door of the school. Fights he had forged his character, who had taken the insecure personality of a jolly fat man and he had pulled down an armor trimmed with insane hatred of a society dedicated to the cult of the body. He had grown as
a gnawing resentment inside him that drove him to revenge and gave a motivation to continue. Thirteen years he graduated with honors in deadly techniques for people fort, and at seventeen to that thing cool to assemble and disassemble a rifle blindfolded too fast too quickly. Twenty-three years was the most reputed murderer and heaviest of the whole continent *.
And this is basically the origin story of Quincy the Fat, the notorious murderer of murderers. If you go to the gym, if you care about your cholesterol or fat index you lose sleep, sleep with one eye always open. It is possible that this figure fat dressing on the roof was not Santa Claus, after all.
* was going to put a joke in supermarkets, but has given me even my Cosic.
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