His Elven name was Celdrick. From his blond head to his Birkenstocks he gleamed with the mica-like sheen of Middle Earth. His hair hung in a thick braid down his back. He smelled of Ivory soap. He smiled a lot and wore a leather jerkin. It was obvious he used his powers for only good, never evil. Still, he had enough prehistoric pets in glass boxes to go seriously Mordor on your ass.

"Mom," my son said as we were leaving, "I think the lizard guy likes you."