The King and his Council of High Wizards summon Otherworlders to help fight against the Demon King.
"Well met, heroes of the Other World, plucked from all manner of Time; we have summoned you here, and granted you the ability to speak our language, to help put down the Demon King!" The King says, greeting the confused people in the summoning circle.
"What is a Demon King?" An older gentleman asks, tilting his head and tucking his hands into his odd robe.
"A Demon King is a beast most foul, a King of a Monstrous Race that targets humans!"
"Ah, but what is a Demon?"
"A Demon is a Profane Race, with Devilish powers and a hunger for Human Flesh!"
"How do we know they hunger human flesh alone? Would poultry not suffice as well?"
The King, flustered, sputters before finally finding his voice again.
"We...we know because every human settlement they raid is bereft of humans!"
"But if there are no humans, how do you know they were eaten?"
"Hey old man, who are you?" One of the other Otherworlders asks, snickering.
The King cannot help but feel the snickering is at he himself, for which he should order the execution of that particular Otherworlder, but is too preoccupied with getting the name of the troublesome one.
"Oh? I am Socrates." With that, roughly half of the Otherworlders sigh and sit down, already looking an odd mix of bored, resigned, and intrigued. "Pray tell, Good King, I have further questions; if we do not know for sure if Demons are eating humans, and can therefore assume that they do not only eat humans, as if they did then they would not have enough energy to besiege your settlements and you would have far less people in this castle, as I too eat things that are not human, am I a Demon?"
"You are not a Demon," The King said flatly, feeling a migraine coming on. "You are clearly human."
"Is that so? Then, perhaps, do Demons have a certain look about them, an appearance I do not exhibit?"
"You have no horns, sir Socrates, nor a tail. You are clearly human."
"I believe I understand, then; we have had a misunderstanding."
The King felt hope flicker in his chest, but squashed it.
"We have? Do you call them something else in your world?"
"Yes, Good King, I believe we do; we call them cows."
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