The Fox
It's midnight at the Phat Khat hostel in the mountains of Nepal. Foxy AKA Gandalf the munted is falling over my porch furniture.
He says, to no one in particular, "Fuck off mate" and waves his staff around.
"Always talking traffic. Road blocks mate. I'm tired of it"
Im not convinced that he isnt some sort of multi dimensional wizard time traveler smashing himself with booze just to stay grounded in this dimension. The evidence cannot be ignored.