A well-meaning old man in his seventies clumsily comforts and reassures a lonely and depressed--but attractive--maid who is struggling with body-dysmorphia disorder...
Food, ale, smoke, sleep, and solitude— these are the things which I live for. Provide for me lamb barbecued, and I'll demand of you no more! O lovely lass, whatsoever's the matter— why so downtrodden and alone? Be not vexed, if you feel so much fatter than most, dear, for we love our own. Sweet lass, let me tell you a secret: if I were a young lad again, I'd chase you for your gorgeous asset. But as I am three-score and ten years old with wife not dead, then never could I be your white knight with steed. So have hope, lass! For time, however, in its fullness will meet your need.
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