The “If you were over 6 feet tall and living in Wellington in 2001 you didn’t have a choice my dude” is killing me, like I’m just picturing the LOTR casting directors running around Wellington with a measuring tape, black-bagging tall guys and shoving them into vans.
“You’re a Lord of the Rings extra now.”
“No! Please! I have a family! I’m supposed to work the closing shift at the Pita Pit tonight!”
“You serve at the pleasure of the Steward of Gondor now.”
