I wrote this some time ago for pure amusement and forgot to post it here.
So...
Enjoy the crack...?
George sighed, glancing demeaningly at the King's manservant. No matter how often he tried to incite the proper behavior in the boy, it never took. Still, he would not be deterred. Polishing must be done correctly, and none knew that more than George. Once again, he stood up, placing himself in front of the errant servant.
"I am afraid that you are still not managing to polish His Majesty's armor correctly," George said patiently, eyeing the offending piece. "I, once again, offer my services to help you improve your form." Allowing a self pleased smile to grace his features, George met the others' eyes, only to frown. Merlin looked almost offended because of his offer, which was totally ridiculous. Everyone knew George was the best when it came to polishing, and Merlin should be grateful he still offered to help.
He heard the other muttering quietly, but before he could focus on what was being said the world tilted, spinning until everything seemed far too large. With an undignified squawk, he realized that apparently, ihe/i had shrunk.
Looking at himself, George realized several things at once: he was tiny, gray, furry, and had a ifluffy tail/i!
The sudden urge to hoard his most precious object had him looking frantically around the room for his favorite polishing rag. George had to have it, now! Where was it?!
With an inarticulate scream he spotted it in Merlin's hand. Charging towards the servant, he whimpered as he tried to scramble up the boy's pant leg to reach his precious polishing rag. The boy kept holding it up in the air so he kept at it, finally managing to grip the pants, scurrying up as fast as his claws would allow, ignoring the squawks of protest coming from the one he was climbing.
Except the rag was now flying towards the window!
Without conscious consideration, George took off after it, flying through the air, reaching for his precious. Just as his claws almost touched it he started to fall.
Screaming he tried to claw his way back up through the air to reach it. He had to have it! Except it didn't work and he landed on a patch of golden fluff which immediately started moving erratically. Scrambling down he spotted his polishing cloth drifting through the wind, but before he could chase after it, something connected with his side and he was, once again flying through the air screaming his defiance.
When he landed, it was with a wet splot, amidst the angry squealing of pigs who promptly began to trample him. Every time he tried to get up, another would stomp on him, until finally he managed to worm his way out of the pen under a layer of muck.
Popping up, he shook himself off and started looking around for his precious cloth. It was nowhere in sight! Panicked, he ran for the nearest building, intending to climb it. Yet, once again, he was met with screams and flying feet, both intending to trample him and kick him away.
Finally, after much abuse, he made it to a building and began to climb, reaching the roof of a nearby building when the owner of the one he had been climbing took offense and swatted him with a broom. Once he shook the cobwebs from his head he started his search again in earnest. He had to find that cloth!
Each direction he searched revealed nothing until, finally, he spotted it, caught on some thatching sticking up from a rooftop halfway across the city.
George screamed in misery as he started scurrying towards his one true love.
Only to be snatched up by a large bird of prey.
Biting and scratching, George finally managed to loose himself from the bird's claws, falling unceremoniously back towards the city. Where he landed in the stable yard scaring the wits out of a horse which promptly kicked him into the nearest wall.
As darkness closed in, George could only cry quietly to himself. He had lost his precious polishing rag….
George awoke with a start, sitting straight up in his familiar bed. With a gasp he turned to his bedside table to see his polishing rag was indeed there.
iIt must have been a dream/i George reasoned, grabbing the rag to nuzzle it with his face, not noticing the way he twitched every once in a while.