"Time is a manmade construct that hinges on small arms telling me when it is," he replies, which might sound deep and vaguely like he's one with the earth, but the truth is that between the drugs, the alcohol, and the general oracle and god settings in his brain, Olaf doesn't really cope with the telling of time as well as other people might.

He'd check his watch, but he can't really afford one of those and it's not that he really wants one, either. "The real answer is long enough that the housekeepers hate pushing my surfboard and other stuff aside to get in."