Timmy!
“Good afternoon, child.” The Fat Man’s voice was as bad as the hum. It was grave, but merry underneath it all. He sounded like just the sort of fellow who you could trust with your life and your soul, but not your selfishly-hoarded resources that would be better used to brighten the lives of a bunch of orphans. If they were the right kind of orphans, naturally; Timmy was technically an orphan himself, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t qualify.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Timmy wanted to be rude. He really did. He’d been told not to by the Headmaster of the School, though. That had been weird, because lately the old guy had started saying why. “The ‘Fat Man,’ as you called him — please do not call him that to his face, young Mister Timothy — is an extremely powerful Entity. He is not our foe, but he is also absolutely not aligned with us in methods. He tolerates our existence, nothing more.”
“He’s dangerous, then?” Timmy frowned at the Headmaster. “The stories I heard didn’t say he’s mean.”
“Oh, he is safe enough to approach, as long as you don’t provoke him. I do admit that it’s safer for even a wicked child like you to treat with him than it would be for me. You simply don’t have the same bitter history with him that an adult in my position would. Rest assured, I wouldn’t let you go near him if I seriously thought it might end in disaster.” Timmy decided that he believed that, which felt weird. He also instinctively knew that it was smart to be careful around anybody who somebody as powerful as the Headmaster took seriously.