Notogether

"Your finger, please," the stranger said.

The Lightning Lord, though a little confused, outstretched his finger. The stranger positioned the tobacco of his pipe next to the finger, as if it were a lighter.

"Think more creatively, if you wouldn't mind."

The Young Lightning Lord didn't mind to think like this at all. In fact, even beginning to let his mind run was like opening the stopper to some great pressurised vat, and letting it all explode out. No filter, no limitations.

"Well..." he began to say, as an idea was coming to him-

-and just as he said it, suddenly electricity shot in a thin beam from his outstretched finger and lit the tobacco, after which smoke began neatly billowing from the stranger's mouth.

"Just don't get too many ideas whilst you're around all the dried hay in here," the stranger mentioned. "It's all quite flammable, you see."