I wasn't sure what constituted mystical trousers, so I wore jeans instead, because typically they served me just fine in a mystical sense.

So, about an hour later, I arrived at the pub. And, as requested, I had stopped in the item shop along the way and found a tea mug. Actually, it was a coffee mug bearing the legend 'World's Greatest Loser.' I hoped this wasn't going to interfere with any necessary mysticism, because that would be a damn shame, wouldn't it?

And there he was, at the bar. I meandered on over and sat in the seat beside him, setting the mug on the table.

"Heya. Don't suppose you know a guy with a mystical animal, do you?"