On good days, which were rare and far between, we called him Ty. And on bad days, which were all the other times, he went by his full name, Tirade McRanterson. He was 27 years old with a cantankerous soul of a 72 year old. Further, he weighed over 350 pounds. Always out of breath, and created a savage harmony when he breathed through his nose and mouth simultaneously. Not as pressing, but fairly relevant, he smelled like cheese on the verge.