Stranger: Who are you?
B: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am, is a man in a turban.
Stranger: Well I can see that from your profile picture.
B: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation I'm merely remarking upon the naivety of asking a turbaned Indian man - who he is.
Stranger: Oh. Right.
B: But on this most auspicious of times, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.
B: Behold the bruised, baffled badgered but not beaten brat bent upon a bitter fight with the bellicose being of his brain鈥檚 material desires. The backbone of his strength ag
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