“Howdy, folks!” BOB said cheerfully to the rather uptight pedestrians that he encountered.

A man in an orange coat leapt aside. “Where did you come from?”

BOB cleared his throat then smiled politely. “From the alleyway.”

“What are you doing lurking around an alley?” the man asked, a small crowd was forming.

“I was…” BOB thought hard for a moment, then shrugged. “I was materializing.”

“That happened to me once,” an old man snarled from the crowd, “Burritos.”

BOB waved at the gathered crowd, “Hello everyone, I am – “

A passing commuter pushed through to the front of the crowd to see what the commotion was about. As soon as he heard BOB speak, he crinkled his nose and swung loose wrists in the air. It was apparent that this man recognized BOB from somewhere, “You are BOB?” the man asked with a heavy French accent.

“Yes!” BOB replied cheerfully, expecting the Frenchman to fall to the ground in awe.

“As it happens,” the man replied coolly, “we don't believe in you.”

“Ah, the American's of Europe.” BOB muttered. “Right, whatever.” He turned to a young woman in the crowd and smiled politely. BOB was hard to deny, especially when he smiled. Not only strikingly handsome, he also exuded an aura of pure studliness that would make the most macho dockworker fall in love with him. The woman, of course, was so daunted by this beauty that she stripped naked before the Great Deity without even a second thought. She fell before him and rolled around a little bit so he could see her body. (It is mainly this episode which inspired BOB to later market his scent, naming it ‘Giant Man-Root’.)

Now this was more like it, BOB thought, some crazy blonde bitch going nuts for him. The best answer for women like this was to play hard to get. He pushed his way through the crowd and headed for a nearby coffee shop.

At the coffee shop, he was staring hard at the poppyseed muffins when a brunette of such incredible lushiness stepped up and knelt before him. BOB found himself shaking a little as she turned wide green eyes up towards him. She was a perfectly formed creature, wearing a blue-rubber halter-top and a pair of leather pants.

“What... Is your wish?” she breathed. The tiny muscles in her child-like arms flexed as she ran her hands across her breasts, the rubber of her halter-top shifting slightly.

“Did you say White Mocha?” the clerk asked, pouring beans into the grinder.

BOB and the woman stared at the clerk for a few beats.

“I heard White Mocha.” The clerk muttered. “Do you want a White Mocha?”

The woman seemed uncertain for a moment, her eyes drifting languidly towards the advertisement for White Mochas. Then she turned back to BOB, “My lord, I live only to serve you.”

But BOB was thinking hard, “What’s a White Mocha?” he asked the clerk.

“Kinda like a normal Mocha…”

“But white,” BOB hissed.

“Ah, you beat me to it.” The clerk clicked his tongue, “That was pretty funny for the first week.”

“I am here to fulfil your wishes!” the woman spread her arms out, jerking her head back and closing her eyes.