"Only four days until I have to fight the fire lord," Aang muttered to himself, punching a tree repeatedly without engaging his bending in any way, because this was clearly the supreme training method. The bags under his eyes could hold a lifetime's supply of eggs. "Wait a second."
He started kicking a bush instead. "Why do I even have to fight this guy?" he wondered. "This makes no sense. Since when do you have to fistfight the president to win a war? His successors are as bad as he is anyhow, and they'll still have his whole army at their disposal. He should just stay out of the fighting entirely if he knows what's good for him."
Aang went back to punching the tree. An acorn fell on his head, and he picked it up and began to stroke it lovingly as if it were a baby bird. "That would solve so many problems. So many lives would be saved. Can't all wars be resolved by a sparring match between world leaders?"
"AANG, GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP," Toph yelled at him from her earthen tent. "YOU'RE KEEPING ME AWAKE."
"She's right," Aang sighed. He set down the acorn. "What am I saying? I do need some rest. And when I wake up, I'll realize that it does make more sense to beat up the king."
