The Island in the Kitchen is a Peninsula (if you count the floor)
"I'll trade philosophy for heart," says Mr. Popcorn. It's 2018, an era where profit and loss are viewed differently, and bartering standards are restructured upon the new rhythm, again. Mr. Popcorn has arisen from the sands, after being mummified and buried under the dust for so many years, along with his belongings; a handful of old papyrus and philosophy.
Where he came from, he was respected as kings, and as simple as a humble farmer. But, in this new era, he seemed worthless, vague and squishy, no one takes him seriously, for what he looked like. His outer appearance was quite miserable, like a hermit: His clothes were ripped off and dusty, his hair was all tangled and fuzzy; he walked barefoot and has no titles or royal jewelry on his shoulders. Mr. Popcorn had nothing but the handful of old papyrus and philosophy... And a body without a heart; as he walks across the nation looking for the only one who would trade him only his philosophy... for her heart, to restore his half-dead body, before his time in this world is over and the gods send him back to the eternity of nowhere, where he will be harvesting wheat from the field, for the rest of the eternity.
He started off his journey by wondering in the streets of the new era, observing the new world: The streets were noisy and people were always in a hurry. And when they spoke, they were too fast and loud. Sights were all over the surroundings, in all shapes, and in many colors, filled with psychological phrases like, "You Need This!" or "You Need One Of This, Like Everyone Else!" And the word 'Now,' was mostly used with two or three exclamation marks. Most of the people were on their "new technology" while walking, that they called it cellphone. They often walked in groups, black with black, and white with white. The rich ones walked with their alike, and so did the poor ones.
Mr. Popcorn sees all this and wonders, " does anyone has a heart, at all?!" it seemed so strange and unfamiliar to him. He was started to question whether they were humans or cyborgs. And whether he was in the right era.
In a perfect world, Popcorn would've been more than just a snack; as It was the most popular among kings, nobles, and even the common people, in the ancient world. But in this, new era, everything is different: We've always enjoyed a bowl of Popcorn while watching a movie or a football game... But not serious enough to set it on a dinner table.
In the ancient world, Mr. Popcorn was a popular philosopher, but no one knew his real name. People to called him Socrates, except his parents, Menes, and Kemet, and his ancient lover, Cleo, who was expected to resurrect from the dead in the same era as planned so they can find each other again, as they always have, but both got lost in the new world.
***
Maybe it was the Colonel he was after; in the state of being before the determinism settled him. One titled Colonel could proudly yet be anything; as known by the very pronunciation of his manifest destiny in the rolling of the phantom r... but Popcorn was Done. As a fact so was Tortilla, and Dorito; and even Nacho was just another flake with extra dressing. For all of them it was too late, as concerns the Heart of the matter. It was princesses like Cleo that fed into that eventuality; ordering this or that, and so seldom declaring peace by piece, such as by saying: hey, let these be returned to the soil. Ordering instead Nacho, and Dorito; or Tortilla; and only in the most pitiful caloric squeeze, asking for Mr. Popcorn, if you please. And no wonder he would exchange philosophy of Fine Living for heart, that his kernel too could have a chance to ripen without this pressure pot.
For all of her agreement, Cleo was too much in a hurry to see her lover to remember to lower the dial on the stove top across which barefoot he must inevitably walk. And so when he had sauntered in, at her bidding, his jacket ripped blowing his cover and branding him forever as it did. The coming and going of a passing fad, at times a quaint family tradition whilst watching specters on the screen as important in and of themselves as the colonel in their twisted status quo, regardless of the facets apparent; such as that there was no r in the heart of the argument.
Yes he would give up philosophy to keep the heart.