[b][color=6ecff6]Ved[/color][/b]
	At around 9 o'clock p.m. he began walking to the park, stopping first to pick up a large cheese pizza with hot sauce. His mother, before she died, had shown him the wonders of Midwestern eatery, which is essentially the combination of things that shouldn't be combined, to produce delicious and hearty outcomes. His mother had grown up in Iowa, but hated it and went to college on the west-coast and loved it, deciding to move there permanently and settle down. She had always loved small towns though, which helped her in picking Grayshire as the location of choice to raise a family. Snapping out of his daydream down memory lane, he looked down at his feet as they limped forward, observing his appearance. He was a bit taller than average, around 6'2, pale as a ghost, and thin as a skeleton. He always looked incredibly sick, like he was on the verge dropping dead, and the way he trudged about didn't make things any better.

	He sat down slowly, next to the man he had spoken to on the computer. He then opened the box, and with a very frail, raspy voice, politely asked;
[color=6ecff6]"Cheese and hot-sauce, want a slice?"[/color]
	As a child, he had nearly died several times, primarily from breathing defects, that in turn effected his voice. He was, if anything, weak, his best force was his eloquent speech and incredible computer and leadership skills.