Bearman marched into the cafeteria, his bright and unnerving smile lined with 2" teeth. He was assaulted from all sides by the smell of a hundred delicacies, or at least that's how he would refer to the many kinds of meat on display. He had always found raw meat to be nicer than the cooked variant, but there were just so many ways to cook a steak. Cooking gave a great variation, which was reason enough to love the table laid out before him.

Ignoring the presence of chairs entirely, Bearman dropped on all fours, roaring in delight as he - quite literally - tore into a plate piled full of steak. From there he moved to chicken, pork, and a variety of spiced meats and sauces, regaining his manners once the greater part of his hunger had been sated. "It is a good man who knows how to serve good food!" This, for Bearman, was one of the best things in life. To be able to stuff your face and not care about the world.