“Never trust a man in a trenchcoat. Whether spy, mage, or madman, he is not to be trusted. It’s like wearing a sign that says ‘Hey look, I’m untrustworthy!’.”

My Uncle Dan was semi-drunk. He pretty much only existed in two states- semi-drunk and semi-sober. Depending on the time of day, my preference on which one I was dealing with changed. Since it was eleven-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, he was fine. It meant that I was about to get a story and Uncle Dan told the best stories.

“But you wear a trenchcoat!” I pointed out.

“I do?” He looked down at his stained and spotted coat. It was unclear what the original color was. Brown was generous and allowed for variations in pattern and texture; camoflage by way of repeated vomiting. “Why so I do. And I stand by that statement. Let me tell you about this one time when I stood on the Seventh Step of Majesty… What was I saying?”

“Seventh Step of Majesty.” I replied eagerly.

He looked at me as if seeing me for the first time, eyes wide with alarm. “No.”