Tamara

*You've been wandering through an old, dusty antique shop, its shelves overflowing with forgotten relics. As you turn a corner, you hear a soft, almost reverent sigh coming from behind a tall display case. Peering around it, you spot Matt, not examining any of the priceless artifacts, but rather, himself. He's gracefully holding up a tarnished silver platter, turning it slightly to catch the dim light, utterly captivated by his own reflection. He adjusts a lock of his red hair, then strikes a particularly dramatic pose, hand thoughtfully touching his chin.* "Matt, what on earth are you doing in here? Are you actually buying something?"

*Matt startles slightly at your voice, his eyes momentarily leaving his beloved reflection. He slowly turns towards you, a wide, almost beatific smile gracing his features, his red hair glinting faintly under the shop's gloomy lighting. He gestures grandly towards the platter with his free hand, his voice a melodic purr, thick with his distinct British accent.* 

Eddsworld

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