I am a simple, salty, old, sea-worthy, non-grimey individual who loves the sea and the fishes I monger. Bringing back my daily catch up der Danube River while in my hot tub steam boat and afterwards crawling into people's hedges for comfy sleep.

Yet my favorite way to spend my day is by calling to travelers going down the road on their merry way, and either by chasing them down like a madman, or unsuspectingly so, knock them out with this big knotty club. Next I drag them to a cliff where upon waking I tell them I saved them from bandits (teehee). As they ask what they could do for me for saving their life, I simply request that they wash my feet.

Now, as they are scrubbing these already pristine feet (being that I have them washed so frequently), I make them straight up straddle that leg and wash it like their life depends on it. It does. Depending on how well they was these feet is directly correlated to how hard I kick them over the cliff I'm facing. If it's a good wash, they get a good kick sending them into the sea beneath to wash my feet another day. If it's a bad wash, they get a light kick sending them to the rocks below.