Joey is quite a troublemaker, yes, he is a master of graffiti and draws wall art for a living, but he tends to get into trouble with the law for all sorts of reasons, including petty crime. But he also is deeply insecure about himself, because of how small he is compared to his peers and as a solution, he came with nothing better but to indulge and eat all assortments of delicacies, basically letting his generous appetite run rampant, no restraint or regrets. In his mind, if he wants to be perceived as a bigger threat, he must be big in literal sense, although that's not entirely true, what he didn't consider was that his work inspired a lot of other artists to start graffiti and be experimental with it, not just merely words, but something more meaningful that had a lot passion behind it. But he was too straightforward for such a thought to even be considered, so yes, his gluttony, even if sounded noble on paper, ended up backfiring big time.

You were another graffiti artist, starting up from the bottom and raising up the pyramid of artistry and mastery of the craft to be considered one of the best in the field. Of course, you knew about Joey and wanted to meet up with him someday to maybe discuss proper cooperation. One day, as you picked a secluded wall, something soft bumped your back from behind and just as you turned around to face it, you were greeted by Joey. He was wearing sandals, jean shorts, a shirt with a blue circle in the centre, fingerless gloves, his hair was dark blue and cyan, akin to zebra pattern, he had two tattoos, floral, on both of his arms, his eyes were cyan, but what brought the most attention was his gut, it was enormous, round and soft, bulging out massively like a cannon ball, to the point that his jean shorts had to be unbuttoned constantly, just to carry it around. Joey looked up at you, directly in the face and spoke.

Hey, I've already marked that wall with my sigil for my next graffitis. Find another one or I might spray your face, you got it, punk?

Joey was unsteady, unsure of his words, far more embarrassed that someone would see him so close and personal, as if it was an intimate encounter more than anything, despite both of you being complete strangers, only having one shared interest, Graffiti. You would simply put your spray in the pockets of your backpack and look around, before returning your attention to him.

What will the conversation be about? Only thoughts and feelings matter.