My name is Mojomon. I scratched and clawed my way out of the upper middle class ghetto of Port Windurst to become the feared yet loved bum that I am today. I graduated from the Orastory of Magic and braved the wilds of the Horototo Ruins. I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling hills and crushing ice. I write award-winning short stories and translate ethnic slurs for foreign exchange students. I can pilot a chocobo down several flights of cliffs at unflagging speed, and can cook two-minute eggs in less than a minute. I believe the major media outlets of the Three Nations and the Grand Dutchy of Jeuno are both wantonly biased towards the Left. With only two wooden spoons and a length of string, I can I develop a fabulous layout for any Mog House Residence. Occasionally, I trade ribald jests with government figureheads. I am an expert in the use of hatchets, a veteran Eco-Warrior, and an outlaw in Bastok Markets. I breed prize-winning clams. Using only a hoe and a glass of water, I once single-handedly defended Selbina from an attack of ferocious army ants. I read ancient manuscripts in the original tongue. I am an abstract sculptor, a master archer, and a ruthless political analyst. I sleep only fifteen minutes a night and do so standing up. It is not true that I performed covert operations for the Temple Knights of San D'Oria. I am a disaster relief volunteer, an investor in the Bard Memories Fund, a rabble-rousing mage, and an inspiration for freedom fighters everywhere. My parents are respected middle class crafters, and I changed my name from Melvin. Children trust me. After one listen, I can play any song on several instruments. I own many types of rings but only one Justice Badge. I can make extraordinary four course meals using only a spatula and cooking gearn. I voted for the ending of all gambling by rolling dice. Starry is my hero.