'Gator for Dinner

Your name is Sersen Bailic. You are well known in the village that borders your swamp, and everyone here knows better than to cross you. Typically whenever you wander down to the market you paint your face before hand, since juggalos in general are typically feared and keeps trouble-causing visitors away from you. But tonight, you left it off because you are too groggy from the painkillers in your blood. A week ago you got the shards of bone hanging around in your elbow removed, so you no longer have an elbow of sorts. Its weird and rounded with no point to it. Most of the fractures in your arm have healed, but you still have to wear this stupid splint to keep your arm still while it finishes healing. Damned fucking Dasura. 

After arguing with your mate you managed to convince him to let you go and get the groceries. If you were stuck in your hive one more night you were going to snap. You meander the stalls, chatting amicably to the trolls running them. You know pretty much all of them. However, there is one stall you haven't seen before with a sign above that says 'exotic meats.' You walk over and look over what he's got to sell. Sure, he's got some fish and meat you haven't seen before but you don't see how he can pass gator meat off as exotic. After all, the swamp is full of them. But no one else has gator meat today and you can't go hunting in this state, so you start digging through your wallet for the right amount to may the troll.