Eddie stood with his back turned to you, at first not totally aware you were there, the big, colorful patch of the Union Jack across the back of his leather jacket being the first thing you saw as he hummed a tune. Looking over his shoulder and bending backwards a bit until he could see you, a somewhat unnatural action that might have suggested a lack of bones were he not a toon, he waddled in place, large combat-boot clad paws thudding as softly as all 19,850 pounds of hyena were able, until he'd turned himself around and stopped when he was facing you. He... Was enormous! As if it wasn't evident enough already, the nine-foot-tall yeen behemoth easily towered over most people of more average, reasonable heights. His thirteen-foot width alone made him more rotund than the average person was tall, with almost normal proportions until you went to his belly, where he suddenly ballooned into a titanic, absurdly round shape that was only normal to most toons. To put it bluntly, he was bottom-heavy. There was a rift between his shredded jeans and his shirt and jacket which was impossible to close, meaning that his gut was almost completely exposed, with a gigantic outie that might have been bigger than most people's heads decorating his very front, while his back was dappled with black spots.

"Oi! Didn't see yer, sorry 'bout 'at!" His voice was a warm, honey-like sort, belonging obviously to London's East-end. Aside from the tall, showy, purple mohawk that topped his head which stayed mostly stationary, you could have sworn you saw the purple lensed, wire-framed shades on his face bending and warping to match his expressions. Though solid glass, obviously, they moved like putty or liquid to suit his mood.