The town of Melfourde, Ireland was a regular town, indeed. It has a supermarket, a corner store, a diner, a pub, all the necessary mediums of life you would expect in an ordinary town full of ordinary people, and ordinary things.
One thing, however, is amiss. Nobody likes cheese. Yes, let me repeat that in order for you, a cheese loving fanatic, to process what I said. Nobody likes cheese. The one deciding factor of separation from Town A to Town B is something as little as the lack of cheese loving. But let me tell you, something like this isn’t as little as you might think.
Every parent of the cheese hating generation thought, as they think of many odd behaviors produced by a child, that it was just a "cheese hating phase."
In the years to come, this would eventually change as people realized that every single one of these odd children, turned adults, hated cheese.
Let’s get a grasp on the repercussions of a town not liking cheese. Now first off, what would it do to the people of the town? Not much right, just nobody buys cheese from any of the places mentioned previously. Let me ask you this, though. What happens to our economy if nobody buys cheese? Local companies go bankrupt, because no one is buying their cheese. They would be mad, and that would soon resort to rioting.
This is how the town becomes the main center point of fights. The angry business owners wield shotguns and pitchforks. The people of Melfourde want nothing but peace, for it couldn't be their fault that they don't like cheese. However, the greedy manufacturers will do anything humanly possible to get their share of the millions of dollars that come from the cheese industry.
Through this chaos, one man has a quest to end it all. He wants to find someone; someone who likes cheese. He doesn't know who, but he knows there has to be someone out there.
This man's name is Stan. last name Burfah. He was a mechanic, and as you might guess, is accustomed to fixing machines. He was a true innovator, and he had been working on a personal project for a very, very long time. Stan knows that this was his moment to shine.
After a demanding day at work, Stan has a bubbling of excitement to tweak the final prototype of his project. It is a massive structure that fills up the entirety of his workshop. The rounded base made of wood, with sandbags attached by metal rods outlooking the sides. In the center is a massive furnace, that protrudes out from under a multicolored sphere of tarp and canvas, just like a balloon. Yes, in fact, this was exactly a balloon. He calls it his Motor-Heated Balloon Transporter, later to be known as the Hot Air Balloon.
With the final build of his Motor-Heated Balloon Transporter completed, he just can't wait to take it for a test ride. The first step is to open the large wooden hatches positioned on the roof of his workshop. The next is to drop the sand bags from the side. They collided with the floor in a cloud of dust. Then, with the fire lit, the heat filled the balloon and it rose up into the blue sky above.
He could see the town below him getting smaller. The distant foothills of the mountain range were coming into view.
Slowly, a gentle breeze turned into a gust of wind. The Motor-Heated Balloon Transporter began to tilt forward. Nothing that couldn't be dealt with, as he could just move the placement of the few sandbags to where the opposite end of where the tilt is.
This wasn’t the end of Stan’s issues, though. In the strong winds, sparks were able to spread out and latch onto the canvas, like mosquitos persistent to suck the blood out of an organism’s flesh. These sparks would soon turn into a flame, fraying the canvas. Wires snapped and tarp shredded, Stan Burfah was about to go down in a flame.
The only possible escape he could conjure up would be to use the canvas as a parachute, and jump down onto the mountain that he was first heading towards. He thought back to his goals before, finding someone who liked cheese. He needed to do it for the town, so he jumped.
He awoke to a searing light in his vision which was a contrast to the darkness he had seen in the previous moments of unconsciousness. The second sense to awaken was his smell, the strong odor of old herbs and spices filled the room. A dim light presented the room in a warm, mysterious way. On the walls were animal skins, paintings, and shelves filled with artifacts, animal skulls and jars of various sizes and colors which contained abnormal liquids and concoctions.
His heart skipped a beat, when he heard the gruff voice of an old man. “Up already?” he said. Stan was fearful, being in a situation beyond his control, he was lost and in pain, with no trust for this absolute stranger.
He responded awkwardly with a “Do you like cheese?” The man held a puzzled gaze for a few seconds, then he cracked a smile which showed is darkened teeth, and with a welcoming voice, “Well, it depends on the cheese, don't it?”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” Stan Burfah was a happy man that day, the mission he longed to complete was finally accomplished.