That was this older white man with the corded muscles of a enforcer — he was Otto, a punchy-in-the-head retired enforcer who had done time for the Jagged Right. Since he was loyal, he was given the job as a janitor when he his head got slow and thick like cold oatmeal.
He rubbed Otto’s shoulders over the sleeveless shirt he wore, an ancient rag with no sides, it was one of those muscle shirts from the 80s. It was quite possibly literally from the 80s, it looked like something Otto would have worn back in his boxing days.
His name was Otto, and Steel didn’t know him. He deduced who he was with a quickness though. That’s cuz Otto was a tall white man, thickly built like a boxer cuz he was — Otto was a retired boxer. Retired from decades ago. Shoulders like cannons, biceps like cannonballs… Or maybe reverse those comparisons. His nose looked like a peach pie that got dropped on the floor and smushed by a cracker in cowboy boots.
