His demeanor was that of Lord and Master, casually dispensing arrogance to beggars and serfs at his feet. In hand, uncommon in both form and function, was a masterpiece of superbly crafted science. A razor sharp point, stemmed into a smooth, meticulously ground barrel, then tapered impossibly, gracfully, into an unframed square, of colourful and perfectly aligned wings. The room fell silent, holding its breath, when he turned toward the wall. He raised his hand and with an elegant flourish, loosed the shaft to a resting place beside the target. He looked toward me. I suggested he try hockey.
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"Classic"
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