Gandalf was a wino from Brooklyn named Jimmy Steinwitz who found a horse in Central Park. After passing through an extra-dimensional rift located around the universe-changing effects of Donald Trump's hair spray and toupee glue, he found himself in the Shire. Having accidentally sobered up, he quickly convinced the hobbits of this strange land that he was a wizard, primarily by flicking his Bic and launching a few of the bottle rockets he regularly carried in his bathrobe. One hobbit family, in particular, became so enamored of him that after aquiring (and sharing) the local pipe-smoked "weed" with them, he was able to convince them to go on bizarre quests, generation after generation, based solely on his baked hallucinations. Eventually he found himself in a position where he had to make a stand and defend several others from the attack of a horrible monster. Cleverly disguising his actions as heroic, he threw himself off a bridge rather than face up to his responsibilities. The local version of gods were so impressed, they revived him from an unplanned death and gave him the hottest ride in the land. From there, he was able to convince perfect strangers to kill themselves in futile manners. Fortunately, the "weed" held out. He retired a hero, although God knows why.