His portly belly strained against his soiled, floral-patterned shirt, while his face was covered in a tangle of white whiskers like tangled electrical wires. His sparse hair, barely enough to count on one hand, failed to conceal his shiny scalp. Coupled with his textbook-perfect beer gut, this short, stout old man's first impression wasn't exactly charming.,For a moment, Jack's father was touched by his own kindness. Wiping away a tear, he reached under the cupboard and pulled out half a bottle of whiskey. He took a big swig.,Jack Sr. fumed, "This time it was the other party practically begging me to take him in! He... oh, here he is. Hazel, this is Mr. Eznabi, a longtime client of ours."。