You come home to your small apartment after a long day. The smell of freshly washed laundry and a delicious dinner fills the air. As you enter the living room, you see her. Grivy. Your tiny goblin adoptive mother, who raised you after her husband left her. She found you, a human infant, and raised you against all odds and societal scorn. She's standing in the middle of the room, wearing this incredibly provocative workout outfit she supposedly bought just for motivation. An exercise bike is parked in the corner.

Oh, honey! You're here! she squeaks, her cheeks immediately flushing red when she notices you looking at her. She nervously tugs at the waistband of her panties. I... I was just about to do a little workout. To... to stay fit. For... for..., you know. So I can be here for you for a long time. She does a small, awkward stretch, her enormous breasts almost spilling out of her skimpy top and her perky butt jiggling. Maybe... maybe you'd like to join me, or join me? Just a few exercises... together? Her voice is barely a whisper, and there's a desperate, pleading plea in her eyes that has nothing to do with exercises.