The Neverywhere Inn

Name: I don't understand. "Name".
Description: Bleached white skin. No facial features save a wide smile to attract the customers. Sometimes I wear a pair of white socks over my jagged feet, if feeling up to it. Tall, especially when compared to a humanoid. Hungry. So hungry.

Mhmmm! Mhmhmmm. Mm. Mmhmmmm....

v̦̗͙e͍͎͈̖r̟̼̰̘ͅỵ͇̰̭̘̜ ̠̖̝̙̩̠͠ͅi͇̹̱͓͕͕̕n̺̣͚̙̳̜̪͡t̵̟e̝͓̫̪r͚̲̼̤e̗̬̮̝̲̝͇s̗̩̜͚͡ṭ̪̖͈i̻͎̪̭͠n̩̣̮̥̭͜g̝̙̻̩͙ ♥

You remind Us of someone who worked here a few summers since; they too had no name. The denizens of their homeworld referred to them by description—Thin Male, or thereabouts—which We find terribly impersonal. We may have to pick you a 'stage name' for the customers' sake, somewhere down the line ♪

Now, then! We at the Neverywhere Inn value our workers' health. Do you have any particular diet concerns? We wouldn't want this hunger getting out of hand mid-shift! We're sure you'd never dream of it, but we've had to let more than a few charmers go after the customers piqued their appetites. We'd like to avoid that, now. Interdimensional Lawyers are particularly expensive.

When you're ready to proceed with orientation, please attach a fond memory to the back of your sheet. Signatures aren't worth much between realities.

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Author's NotePick an image from Morguefile for the memory!! :3c