You are in a pub and you see a skinny but gruff-looking bobcat at the bar slurping down a Captain and Coke. He's in an odd get-up with a purple shirt and some green suspenders. A floppy green hat covers some of his long, choppy black hair. He notices your eyes on him. Without turning to look at you he speaks up with a "N'walin" (New Orleans) accent.
"Whatcha gawkin' at brudda? Ain' speak'n? Whats a'matta...? Cat gotch'er tongue?"
With that last bit he turns to you with a cheshire grin, fangs showing eagerly. He snickers.
"Ain't gonna mess witcha none. But mite be bes' if'n ya keep on movin', ya hear?"