The mystical wolf that has been guiding you in this vision quest across the desert walks in front of you up the steps of the Temple of Revelation, stops at the door, and turns to face you then rests on its haunches.
You pause at the base of the steps long enough to let out a long sigh, then ascend the stairs - all twelve of them. As you drag your feet onto the landing in front of the mystical wolf, you give a soft groan.
The mystical wolf winces. You have whined and complained every step of your shared travels. The wolf has tried its best to remain professional and elegant, but it tires of your rotten attitude. The wolf is glad this burdensome journey is at its end.
"The Temple of Revelation is a sacred place," the wolf explains. "Before you enter the Temple and receive the Wisdom of Ages, you must remove your sandals."
You roll your eyes and let your mouth hang open in a slack-jawed expression of unearned exhaustion and annoyance. "Ugh...can I just, like, not do that?"
The mystical wolf, teacher of prophets, trainer of generals, and counsel to kings, who has shepherded countless great heroes of the past to this very spot to be shown the wisdom that allowed fulfillment of their cherished histories wants dearly to call you a name in a tongue so ancient the word has no true translation, but the closest approximation in English is "fucktard." Instead, he tells you simply through gritted teeth, "The precepts must be obeyed."
You begrudgingly kick off your rubber flip flops. "What now," you whine, "do I have to get a haircut, too?"
"You may enter," says the mystical wolf, using its last bit of restraint to hold itself back from ripping out your throat."
"Whatever."
The great stone doors of the ancient temple close thunderously behind you. The mystical wolf, its work complete, begins to fade back into the spirit realm from whence it came. If it had hands instead of paws, it would be flipping you off as it went.