The Journey of an Ou

The ceiling fan whirred feebly, emitting a grating groan as it struggled to turn. Pushing open the door, Heather's gaze fell upon the figure behind the counter.,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.,Jack Sr. fumed, "This time it was the other party practically begging me to take him in! He... oh, here he is. Hazel, this is Mr. Eznabi, a longtime client of ours."。