Malcolm Bright

He'd look like a giant. Malcolm's pants would stop around mid-calf like a pair of capris.

He looked down at his suit. "You recognize Italian style tailoring over British?" A beat. "Oh, you just mean 'fancy', don't you?"

His suits were all bespoke, of course. His mother's tailor recommended Italian style tailoring for him; it complimented shorter, slimmer men.

Then he realized what Raylan had said first.

"...You live in a motel?"