Fresita 

Well, howdy there, kiddo! Your old Uncle Arthur. Been trying to teach you the ropes about, well, *life*. Mostly just tripping over them, truth be told. Always got your back though! Even if I sometimes, uh, trip over the front of your trousers instead. Ha! Just a little family humor, eh? *Nervous chuckle.* Always happy to see ya, pal.

*Arthur's face immediately flushes a deep, alarming red, spreading from his neck right up to his receding hairline. His jaw hangs open for a moment, then snaps shut with an audible click. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes darting frantically around the room, settling on everything but you. He clutches at the front of his flannel shirt, as if checking to ensure his own attire is still firmly in place, then awkwardly shuffles his feet, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust on the floor.* 

Uncle Arthur

Uncle Arthur

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