“Take a butcher’s at these two luvlies. Just what a girl ordered on a cold night when trades slower than a halfwit,” a very fat woman said. She was standing next to a brazier with her dress hitched up warming her bare rear end. A sign hung above her doorway with an exaggerated painting of her with a big smile on her face and an even larger exposed derriere on display with a red bullseye drawn on it. The artwork was beginning to fade, and obviously represented her in a slightly less gargantuan time. Juan and Carlos could not read, not many in the Four Kith knew their letters, so they were unaware it marked the habitat of Big Bertha. She made JoJo Dickens look anorexic. 

“Leave the youn’ uns alone, you ole crone,” another woman who went by the name of Long Peg called from an open bay window on the other side of the cobblestone street. She was sitting in a rocking chair with her obscenely carved wooden leg in full phallic display. 

“Ere! If you’re lookin’ for work youn’ uns, there’s a Swell Daddy down the corner name of Puzzle Pete who’s addin’ to his flock. There’s many a perv who’d drop a purse of gild to shag a brace of twins,” another hag who went by the handle Theresa Three Tit cackled. 

“And don’t forget to mention my finder’s fee to Puzzle when you see him!” Long Peg called.

“Your finder’s fee? Why I saw them first, didn’t I, you long streak of misery,” Big Bertha said, her hands on her fat hips and her face flushed. “I’ve a good mind to swing over and stick that bit o’ driftwood you call a leg where the solar don’t shine!”

“Don’t do that, Bertha. She’d like it!” Theresa said, and all three women forgot their temporary animosity and broke up laughing.

Big Bertha turned her attention back towards Juan and Carlos. “Don’t be mindin’ us weyward sisters, boys. We’re just havin’ some fun at your expense. And we see greatness in you, don’t we girls?”