You and 99 others awaken in a large room, all confused as to where you are, and how you got there. Soon people start to realize that everybody here is named Jonathan. Except for you.
Soon enough, the doors swung open and a robed man stepped out. The Jonathans all surrounded him, clamoring for answers.
“Calm down,” he said, raising his hands, and every Jonathan felt a sudden tranquility slip upon them. “I do suppose you deserve to know why you’re here. The lot of you, I regret to say, are changelings. Babes swapped into human cribs at birth. Sleeper agents for the goblin race.”
A murmur overtook the crowd. “Yes, yes,” the wizard said. “There are thousands of your kin, all across the world. But I had my spirit scour the land and bring every changeling named Jonathan to me. For you see,” he said, and reached into his robes, bringing out a medallion on a chain. “I’ve bound you all by your true name.” He grinned wickedly. “Hee-hee! Clever, isn’t it? The ritual’s costly, hardly worth a single goblin servant. But in one simple stroke I’ve bound ninety-nine of you! How common names are after all!”
“Um, excuse me,” said a voice from the back. “But I believe there’s been a mistake.”
The wizard glared. “Who – who was that? You – you’re all bound to my will! Who dares speak against me?”
“Well, that’s just it,” said the man at the back. “I, um, I’m not a Jonathan. Mitchell’s my name.” He wrung his hands. “Not sure what I’m doing here.”
The wizard’s eyes narrowed, and he gestured in the air with one hand, trailing plumes of sulfur, and a horned figure, black as shadow, took shape and form. “Spirit! How’d you foul things up this time! What is this … Mitchell doing here?”
The spirit peered at Mitchell with glowing coal eyes. “Sorry,” it said eventually. “Made a mistake.”
“Made a -” The wizard’s face turned red. “This ain’t the first time you’ve screwed me over, you moron! I’ve had this whole spiel planned out, and now you’ve embarrassed me in front of my minions!”
“Um,” Mitchell said, “so if you don’t need me, I might as well go…”
“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” the spirit said huffily. “You had me running all over the land in a single night, snatching people out of their beds, I think I’m entitled to make a single mistake.”
“Ain’t like I asked for much!” the wizard said. “Just find every changeling named Jonathan, that’s all I wanted you to do. The most common name in the world, Jon! And you bring me back this-”
“He’s a changeling too!” the spirit said. “I got confused! And I don’t see what it matters anyway. You’ve got near a hundred of these goblin bastards, I don’t see what difference it makes, they’re all practically the same anyway…”
“Oh you don’t see why it matters?” the wizard said, his face very red. “I’ve got ninety-nine goblins, but a Mitch ain’t Jon!”
Everyone else go home this is the best use of that prompt
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