"Why, thank you!" Timman booms, having apparently no concept of an indoor voice. What an unusual specimen! Clearly not in need of any assistance, but he grinds to a halt regardless with what is certainly an ill-advised maneuver that sends him wobbling precariously. Being completely unaware of how perilously close he got to completely faceplanting into the concrete, Timman's enthusiasm remains cheerfully undampened.

"You are quite - small," he observes, his tone one of someone making a loud, decisive pronouncement, as all his statements invariably sound.