Walter Wisely found himself a clever man. He wore irregular
suits that he sized himself and dripped with smugness whenever he passed a
mirror, sure his amateur tailoring was undetectable and silently laughing at the
fools who wasted their money in the posh shops on Oak street.
Anyone who saw Walter couldn’t help but wonder who this man
was in such an ill-fitting suit with such a deplorable haircut. And when forced
to interact with the small man, they found his pale, dry skin, squinting, brown
eyes, and bumpy nose disturbing, like the bulbous trolls so common in their
fairytales.
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