The door opens. A stranger wearing a cheap suit and toting a haggard-looking briefcase is led through the house, which seems to him more like a museum of oddities and antiquities than a home. He passes a giant taxidermized bear that looks poised to attack him, and it's placement at a well-trafficked corner is enough to catch him off guard. It seems completely possible that a live bear could be waiting around a corner to attack. He trods on heavy but worn exotic carpets and past giant plants that seem to move of their own accord, until finally he is led to his final destination: the room currently occupied by the eccentric owner of this eccentric house. The owner is, astoundingly, holding a crossbow and currently in the process of shooting an apple precariously balanced on the head of a small boy. Seeing the stranger, he exclaims a genuinely warm greeting, releases the bow--sending the arrow straight to the center of the apple like it had no other possible recourse--then glides over to the stranger, claps him on the back like they had been friends a lifetime or longer, and lights up a cigar.
Warm, clean, and very slightly powdery, this smells exactly like the cologne worn by a grown-ass man. Top notes of fig, bergamot, and lemon fading to base notes of sandalwood, walnut, cedar, oak leaf, and amber.