The room beyond is very plain. Flanking the inner doorway are a pair of 
razorguys, one male, one female, both holding assault rifles. Tikki can almost 
smell the metal in them. A rectangular table stands in the center of the room, the only light coming from the glowing screen of the terminal
sitting on it. Seated behind the table is André, Fat André. He is human, black, 
and immensely obese. His jowls have jowls, his chins descend to his chest. A 
slender, fashion-conscious woman might envy him his breasts. His gigantic belly 
seems to begin somewhere just under his arms and disappear beneath his side of 
the table. Oddly, he smells like fish.