The New Dairy Queen - Chapter 1: Rainbows

    On the cobblestone road of this stereotypical night trekked a cloaked figure, soaked and hunched over. Cows mooed at him from their shelter in the fields, more out of curiosity than actual concern. Who the hell was this guy, they wondered? Why had he no grain for them? And so on.  The man made his way past the barn and to the little cottage at the top of the hill, where he nearly ran into the big sign by the door. He knocked with authority and it opened to a stout, elderly and very surprised man. 
    "Mr Cage!" he bleated gruffly. "I didn't think you were serious!"
    "Just call me Nick." the man replied as he stepped impatiently into the room, his tone edgy and tired.
    People had been pissing him off all day, crowding around his car at the gas station, for instance, begging him to sign things with his god-forsaken meme on it. Someone had put paint on the windshield that made a rainbow when he set the wipers on it. One moron with a ukelele had even sung, rhyming Nick's name with many inappropriate things. 
   If Nichols Cage hated anything, it was ukeleles. 
   Not wanting to be smothered by this fanmob, Nick'd driven away without refilling his tank, and had run out of fuel a mile away from the farm in the pelting rain. He felt that today was the beginning of a new life, however, and so instead of yelling at the old man for just gawking there like an idiot while Nick stood, shivering and making a puddle on the floor, Mr Cage simply said:
    "I deeply look forward to working here, sir."
The farmer came to his senses then, saying:
    "Eh, take off your coat son, you'll catch a cold. Danny'll bring ye breakfast tomorrow and some more suitable clothes for work. Mind the pumpkins in the yard. And call me Wilbur, eh."
   The old farmer, though gruff and very committed to his job, had a tendency to be jittery when celebrities going through mid-life crisis appeared at his door to work for him. Nonetheless, he helped Nick get settled into the guest room, warm and dry. As the former actor lay in bed that night, he found himself relieved to be out of his luxuriously furnished and humidified mansion. It was sold, along with every other meaningless possession he'd owned. Contracts, memberships and tedious relationships terminated; His agent fired, phone burned. All the money that hadn't been invested in making his New Life possible was now being used to fun a new anonymous charity project in the name of depressed Hawaiians.
    Journalists would search for him and find that his trail ended at that gas station, and no one would ever be able to find him. No one would bother him again. He was finally rid of Nicholas Cage, award-winning actor and viral meme. That wasn't the real him, and that life had no meaning or direction. 
    Now he was just Nick, the dairy farmer. Just a regular guy you might meet at the bar on a Friday night, and chat with about the Lakkers game over a beer.
   Anything was possible.