A huge guy strolls right up to your side at the bar and gives you a big grin. He's very hard to miss, on account of the red grenade imbedded in the center of his scarred face. The red clown hair is secondary, but it certainly sticks out.
"Pardon me for being nosy," He pauses, emphasis on the nose, "but that drink looks like the bomb." Emphasis on the bomb. Ozob is grinning like a loon. He thinks he's oh so funny. "What is it?" His red eyes shine with mirth, he loves his own jokes.