The Man from Madras

He walks among us. He has rusty eyes and a candid manner. Defenses? Tic-tacs, orbiting his head. They intercept incoming projectiles.

I ask you this: what is his purpose? what is his mission in life?

Found a stick by the house of my second cousin. It came from a walnut tree, the skin is a reddish-dark brown. I took it home. They questioned me. 'What are you doing with that stick?'
'I like it.'
'You could make a pretty neat hatrack out of it.'
'I just like the stick. It's a magic wand!' (pointing at various objects, making boom-boom sounds).
'How old are you...?'
'35. Turning 36 in July.'
'You were a lawyer, right...?'
'Yeah, sure was!'

Unrelated conversation from the other day:
'I can't believe you were a lawyer.'
'Hmm. This seems to be a reoccurring theme. I really like the movie Flash Gordon.'