Ikor Strzvskülich suffered from a great many maladies, not least of which was the spelling of his name. It had an umlaut, and a few too many consonants, and the last bit was only properly pronounced by someone who was attempting to clear their throat. Ikor knew his assimilation into polite society -- that is to say, the class of people that have nice, simple names like "Smith" and "Jones" which did not necessitate a hankie after introductions -- would require the truncation of his name in some form. But this sort of thing would be considered a slight, especially (but really mostly) by his own family of hunchbacks. They were already embarrassed by his situation, seeing as the traditional spelling of "Igor" was already futzed by the woman preparing his birth certificate, who had sneezed at exactly the wrong time.

So Ikor decided the best way to buy a quiet house in the country (where nary a belltower was seen for miles), settle down, and raise a nice flock of sheep, would be to truncate something else of his. Perhaps his nose, or the little flabby bits under his biceps, or, more likely, the hunch on his back. Yes, something needed to be amended, or whittled away, or (in the really dodgy parts) completely removed. Usually informal surgery was something that Ikor excelled at, as did most of his kind, but this type of major transformation was best left to the professionals.

In short, Ikor needed help. San Diego plastic surgery, world renowned for their rhinoplasty, and their success among Diegos, was what came to the rescue. Ikor's hunchectomy went off without a hitch, (the flabbotomy, however, not as good, but still not noticeable under indirect lighting.)

He opened a successful brewery on the West Coast. "Strzvskülich's Berry Brew," or, as it's known more locally, "Sss...Uuuuullll...Whatever, Two Pints Of The Blue Stuff, If You Please," is a hit with polite society. And it's all thanks to San Diego plastic surgery.