Henry was always hungry. He was hungry in the morning, in the night time, in the daytime, and in the timeless time that exists in space – he was born hungry, and this was immediately a problem for his mother, because stars do not eat. She tried giving him toy moons to play with, made from painstakingly collected and sculpted stardust – Henry screamed a terrible scream that caused a flock of comets to veer off course and cascade into the wrong planet. She tried patting him awkwardly on the back, and Henry howled a terrible howl that shook the knees of some distant black holes, and black holes do not have knees.
Finally she took him for a soothing float about the towns of Klah, and here they discovered the answer. Wherever they appeared, culinary miracles would happen. Those with barely a stale crust of bread to eat would find the crusts were not just fresh, but were whole feasts of Klah’s finest culinary delights (think eggs with egg jam, boiled raisin steaks, etc).
Arch nemeses, feuding since before their grandmothers’ grandmothers were wisps of consciousness, suddenly found themselves sharing a delicious hot lettuce pie together, and the pastry would warm their cold hearts, the soft lettuce would soften their anger, and soon the past was forgotten and dishes were being washed and dried together.
People that lived alone and usually ate toast in front of the TV were transported to street banquets with real vegetables and jokes with the neighbours.
And this is what Henry sated his hunger with. So citizens, if one day the sky above your town is suddenly blotted out, do not fear! It is (probably) Henry, the Culinary Star. Prepare your bibs.