Boba.
What the hell was his problem. What the hell was he on.
He lived in a tree. He domesticated a 3-eyed squirrel named "Mumpy." He ate anything that wasn't poison. He smelled like Brahmin… stuff.
Mumpy had a disgruntled leg and half of a tail. He (or she, or maybe both, I really couldn't tell) had only one ear, it appeared that the other was chewed off. Perhaps in a starved stupor, it was self-inflicted.
No matter. After all, Boba did save our lives, right?
"Well, sonnies, quite a scrape almost you got into."
"Yeah, we were traveling when two of those guys came at us. We scared them off by proving we were armed and dangerous. They came back, with buddies and a vengeance. Then you came with your crazy contraptions and saved us. Thanks, I guess."
"Don't mention it, sonnies. Just remember the most important rule of life: NEVER TRUST ANYONE."
"Uh, gee, thanks, Boba, we'll be sure to do that so we can grow up to be… just like you…" Matt said, a little freaked and really itching to leave this place as fast as possible.
But we didn't leave that soon. We stayed, knowing his hospitality would be hard to come by for a while afterwards. He proved to us he was a brilliant idiot, and a stupid genius. He had devices, like the rope trap, all built around and in his tree. They were extremely clever, such as a water-mill that powered a pre-war stove. And yet, for all these things that he created, such a fool I never did see. He was clumsy, as well as a bit delusional. But he didn't seem to have a problem with it, because in his own little world, he was happy.
"Boys, before you leave, you should know the whereabouts of a town near here. It's only a few days travel east, er, that way."
"Thanks Boba, for the directions and for the shelter. Oh, yeah, and for saving our asses."