well Dave...
George emerged from his cocoon only to see a land of golden nymphs. Something from Roman times. Flowing long blonde hair and wearing almost see though silk togas. It's rare for George to stutter, or be lost for words, or not have an opinion. But at this moment, it was silence. Pure disbelief.
Over the day, he wandered around Delicissorama where the men folk were preparing to indulge their clans. Poor George, so confused, and worse still, uncomfortable, where ever he looked.
Harmonia was intrigued by the stranger and studyied him from a distance. He wasn't aware. Her guidance was watching and asked; "Harmonia, what is it that you look at"? "Him" she said. "He has the hands of a farmer, the voice of command, yet timid and lost. He has golden locks like no other man here....." and stared in a daydream. "Harmonia, that is George. He's from the land of the New Castles. A place where things are confused. Where all is not that it seem. The men folk are hard. They want to provide. To work and earn. But are lost when the get home.
You see Harmonia, in the ashes of time, men like George would work hard, hunt the food, provide the shelter and prepare our meals. We reward them in ways that only we can imagine. That's how our genes are programmed. Our blonde hair signifies this."
"But George has blonde curls? why, I don't understand"
"Harmonia, Maybe a man whose DNA has fractured over time. Maybe that's why he is here? He prepares the shelters. But his meals are prepared. His locks are golden."
Harmonia ponders. Daydreaming about those golden locks, the farmers hands. And quietly murmurs. We need to help George. We need to turn him back. We need to send him home to the kitchen."
And as it happens, the Delicissorama nymphs started to reprogram Georges DNA.
Word had got out on the forum that something had happened to George. Terry had an small idea and posted an essay on what to do. Margaret bundled up Brian in the Priuis and headed east. Not sure why but they went; by the time they arrived, the Prius was full of bit and pieces bought on the way.
Bruce was out of hospital, filled the jerries, messaged Terry and off they went in the dinghy. Multimeter leads flapping in the wind, laughing about the new adventure. Terry reckons it's the stove.
Dot is not far behind. "c'mon on George we'll be late" George quietly told Dorothy that we methodically pack the things we need and head of when ready. "humph" said Dottie.
John and Faye, loaded the Cortina up with oranges and meakats. Planning to use the citrus to clean this renegade oven.
Tanks was in there too. Contacting his old battalion mates. "We need fire power," he was rattling on about. The nurse just gave him some more Moviecol. "That'll give you firepower she said" as she giggled down the hallway.
Ray and Joy, rang the heir and said to get over there. ICU might be needed.
Dave and Terri, reckoned is will be blast and popped over for a squiz at the oven, Which was still shimmering. The display glowing... the connection not lost.
George was coming around. He senses confused. "I'm hungry, so much beautiful food but it stung when touched." Harmonia whispered, 'you can only share and eat what to prepare'. Gruffy heard, "I'm not doing that, never have and never will. Frozen for me." And at the moment the bell rang. Like a microwave but not. Everyone left, but George. He could only imagine. Harmonia looked over her shoulder as she left. So, he got to work and washed the dishes and the sidings next. But something new said it wasn't enough.
The bow wave washed away the foam. Bruce with eyes peeled, Terry feveriously giving directions. With a flare of orange, Margaret and Brian racing beside the river bank met at the old stone bridge. The bridge that has stood for millennia. The bridge where the battles of time have said to have occurred. Where Kings and Queens traded expectations. Where this collective mob gathered.