George was alone. He visited towns and hamlets (for there were no cities in a land so young) casting about for a like face to his own. He wandered the fringes of Bridland, travelled its wastelands, in search of an identity.

But throughout his travels he was never so alone as in a crowd - not only could he see the unfriendly glances, he could hear the hostile thoughts. He was frequently harassed and taken into custody. He made his money by mugging, for none would give him employ and prostitution was out since kinkiness was a rare thing in those days of innocence. Added to that were hundreds of arrests for indecent exposure - he never felt comfortable smothering himself in garments.

Asmodeus looked down upon his envoy and saw his confusion. "Good grief - this kid is making a complete fool of himself." And he resolved to speak with George at the earliest available opportunity.

That moment came when George was led south towards the lands of his Elven mother. He had been prompted to travel hence by a chance remark that he bore a striking resemblance to 'an Elf before we put the feathers on'. It had then been demonstrated to him just what an Elf looked like after the feathers were added. Sadly, no Elf had been handy...

One day as George journeyed through the desert on his way to the Elven Woods, Asmodeus appeared to him. Asmodeus didn't want much of a fuss (autograph hunters had often been a problem) so he manifested with only a small retinue of twenty elite flame lancers. George ran away. Well, what would you do if twenty one burning giants suddenly appeared in front of you? (particularly if you were walking through the middle of a completely barren desert thinking upon some of your more enjoyable experiments with sponges).

Asmodeus' next attempt was a little more subtle: he talked to George as one of his own kind. Good idea - but George would probably have listened to the devil a little more closely if Asmodeus' chosen body hadn't been that of Miss Black Elf 1988, but it was the only spare body around at the time. To say George was transfixed is an understatement worthy of the great understated writers of our time. Anyway, this is what Asmodeus said. It would help for effect if you can imagine George drooling all the way through this. Also, since he is nude (as usual) it is fairly obvious what his thoughts are.

"Welcome to you George, first born of the new race. You are a Druas - why are you looking at me like that? - and were born with fantastic mental powers. You already know of your mindspeech, but you can also fly and seriously damage people with merely a flick of your cerebellum.

"As my envoy on this plane I will expect you to found a great civilisation. Is there anything I might do to help you further in you mission?

"Stop pawing me - hey, you can't do that! Mind you, I'm stuck on this dirtball for another hour anyway. Might as well have a little fun."

A pavilion appeared: a desert palace draped in silken ribbons and encrusted in jewels of more kinds than my inadequate descriptive abilities can think of. Asmodeus led George inside. Erotic aids were as numerous inside as jewels were on the outer surfaces. Chains and manacles bedecked every available prominent feature. George was taken aback.

As the devil pulled George to the bed, the bewildered Druas asked what her name was. "Oh, Asmodeus. But you can call me Bob."

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