" a one-legged giant" who, as one-legged giants go, however, turned out to be an okay fellow, especially after the Gentleman invited him to his table, that is to say looked in his direction invitingly, that is to say, not indifferently, despicably vis-à-vis his crippleness or in other way discouragingly; and would have turned out a really swell fellow had it not been for his propensity to laugh hard and loud at his own jokes, and, what was more troublesome, to mark the end of said jokes with forceful and repeated bangs on the table that set the Gentleman's beer abubble, afroth and aflying everywhicheverway.
"Verily, I don't believe I've ever sold anything fair and square," he confessed when, in an unfathomably predictable way the conversation steered to his lost leg.
"So, how d'you lose your leg?" the Gentleman had asked after a few more beers had been splashed on the table between them. He wasn't one to stare at someone's shrivelled hand or monstrously shaped head, knowing it came of some curse on the mother for stealing a rake or crossing some old woman at the market when she had asked her for the nicer apples in the basket behind. Yet the leg of his friend had clearly been removed not through the black magick art but through that of some medicine man, surgeon or barber or some such other. "I remember," he went on, ignoring the woman, "the very first day me daddy sat me down next to him in the cart. It was cold like shit," he shivered "and I was barefoot so you figure... Daddy had this little place that he lost later, a couldn't be bigger than from here to the door. Don't know what the big idea was about me going with him, unless it was people saw a cute little child playing in the door and stop to talk to me and...He would sell all kinds of crap, but most of all I remember his halva, remember his halva?" He asked turning to his wife who mumbled something that might have been yes, but for the strong feeling you couldn't escape it had actually been something as may him and his halva burn in hell.
"Oh, yes," he went on, dreamily. "His halva was to die for. Actually, funny story about that...

Funny story Or not.