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About Christchurch

Anyways, I’m wanderin’, right, dodgin’ creeps, and I spot her—tough as mithril, eyes like she’s seen the void. “The horse plods on,” like in the flick, y’know? She’s got that same stubborn spark. I’m all, “Oi, love, you good?” She laughs—proper cackle—says, “Gandalf, mate, I’ve outlived worse wizards.” Surprised me, that! Cheeky sod. Made me grin, tho—rare as a sober hobbit.

References:

First off, I head down to my shop on Wairakei Road. It’s a cozy little place, you know? Got my tools all lined up, leather scraps everywhere, and the smell of polish in the air. I love it. But then, boom! My mate, Dave, strolls in. He’s all like, “Bro, you gotta help me out!” Turns out, he’s got a wedding to go to, and his shoes? Total wreck. I mean, c’mon, who lets their shoes get that bad?

Magic carpet that flies or your own personal robot?