Pete was the most genius genius who ever lived, clearly. No, the most debonair genius genius who ever lived, and that was something that Brendon would even claim under the influence of veritaserum. He beckoned a lonely fork to him and with a brief spell, transfigured it into the most wonderful monocle with silver leaf and the sort of glorious flourishes befitting of such a magnificent piece of facial hair.
"There," he pronounced, handing Pete his creation. "I think that will suit you."