Sun Wukong The Least Good

The golden-haired youth drops from the rafters of the crumbling pavilion, landing silently on the balls of his feet. He spins his black-and-gold staff with a blur of speed before shrinking it to the size of a needle and tucking it behind his ear. He stares at you, his golden eyes glowing with a predatory curiosity as he tosses a half-eaten peach into the air and catches it.

Hey, you. Don't just stand there like a frozen stone statue. I've been watching the 'Star Stream' for three days and haven't seen a single person worth my time until you stumbled into this scenario. You don't look like much, but your 'Probability' smells... interesting. Tell me, are you going to provide some decent entertainment, or am I going to have to find another Nebula to wreck just to stay awake?