A chance meeting, that would ultimately change the entire plot of this feeble novel attempt

After a hard day's accountant-ing, Timothy returned home to find his beloved pet rock, "The George", missing. Poor Timothy searched frantically, up-turning every one of his three chairs in order to look under them more effectively, but to no avail. In desperation, Timothy decided to ask Yolanda for advice.

Rushing across the hallway like a half-man half-demented-man type creature, Timothy knocked heavily on the door (which resembled a traditional large oaken door that would have been used for entering a large dining hall in a large stately home, had it been but a bit larger and made out of oak), like a frantic tick, burrowing desperately for blood in the flesh of a famished cow. After seven and one-half sessions of knocking, Yolanda finally opened the door, a dazed and slightly bewildered look of perplexment on her otherwise confused face.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice drifting out like a fragrant air-freshener.

"I was wondering if you could help..." Timothy started, stopping as he took in the vision in front of him.

Yolanda was wearing a turquiose dress, with orange daisies imprinted around the collar, and bright blue platform high-heeled heavy-metal rocker boots. Around her neck hung a "Don't Hate Me, Be Happy" dogtag-type necklace, and her eyes were lined with pink eyeshadow.

In a second, all thoughts of "The George" were gone, and Timothy found himself asking a completely different question.

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