Flan Resurrection

Raymond Eawest was in figurative hell. He couldn't stand it anymore.  If somebody didn't change the music station out on the floor, he truly believed he was going to lose it. 

     In his dream state he had somehow become the district manager of "Cushy Perks", the Bay Area's fanciest new coffee house, now complete with a new Amsterdam style Bong Room.  He was no longer a barista, but he still felt out of place. 

     Suddenly he noticed from his office chair that someone out on the floor had figured how to switch the station to talk radio...but what the hell kind of station was this?  Then something clicked.  He knew that voice.  George? The name George Rhea was attaching itself to one of the voices coming from the radio program.  But he didn't know anyone named Rhea...

He focused more closely on the radio programme.

'George': Vector analysis inconclusive.  Run it again.  Mary, try Mothersbaugh again.  Yeah.  He said he'd have that chocolate moog back to me two years ago.  Goddamn prog rockers.  Thanks.  So, where were we, Red?  Did you say you got a read on the Norse boy? 

Female voice: I said increased Norse activity, not that I got to take a peek.  Anyway, George, it isn't like Bart actually makes any difference either way.

George:  You don't know that, Jennifer.  Running iteration again.  And I want some details on Norse. 

Jennifer: Ah shit, really?  You... Hey, wait a minute.   Do you hear that delay? 

George:  What?

Jennifer:  There!  A static-laced delay of our conversation. Check your connection.  You may have an auxiliary line open. 

George:  Nonsense.  Let me see........  damn, you're right.  For some reason the patients headset was switched on.  Let me get it here... --

And abruptly the strains of Green Day filled the coffeehouse and Raymond Eawest woke up inside the orb of flan.  He was fairly sure of what was going on when he felt the intubation tube going down into his lungs.  He howled and jerked against the restraints, his rage acting as a trigger to his adrenaline.  He ripped free of his wrist restraints and pulled the tubes out of his mouth and nose and ripped two I.V.s out, then set to work destroying whatever disgusting prison he found himself in.  He realized in a few seconds that it was flan.  That started him laughing.