He would sit in a rocking chair and tell jokes to the other half of his brain. The fire chuckled schizophrenically as jagged balls of heat ricocheted off the walls. Family members would come in and ask him who he was talking to, but he dismissed them with an almost spastic string of words. Accused them of not reading enough books, and leaned further into the nervous jaws of the glowing beast. Not enough charcoal he commented, and he had almost eaten half a bag of the dark mineral before his family could restrain him.