Fletcher began to shuffle his feet about, and danced a silly dance.  May I remind you that half of his face appeared like that of a stroke victim, in that his features drooped.  Saliva trickled from his lips.  The other side of his face was lively, happy, smiling.  But at least he didn't have horns or a fiery emblem on his forehead.  Not today.<br/><br/>"Ah, no, not quite," he said mirthfully.   "I'm not the sort of person people grow attached to.  I'm moody.  I'm a binder, you see.  No sense in playing out my secret.  You'll know soon enough.  And, I'm sort of currently predisposed to pointing out your inequities.  Ha, you're SHORT!  I'm also predisposed to dancing and slobbering.  Yesterday, I couldn't stop crying!  And the day before, I really enjoyed slamming my face against the side of trees.  Maybe you'll like me tomorrow, little one!"<br/><br/>He began to walk towards the building.