What do Gnomes
in my boudoir, I reflect on the events of the last 24 hours. The
Council, unfortunately, has spoken. It is our duty, as superior
gnomes, to take under hand our Garden Gnomes and teach them in all
manners appropriate to join our circle. It is a sad fact that our
numbers are dwindling due to the economic climate chasing our
traitorous counterparts to warmer pastures.
How they believe this to be
possible I do not know, but they have decided. Today I must take my
Gnome and make... dare I say it... friends. I feel positively ill.
The thought of going anywhere near the vagabond that inhabits my
beautiful garden, making a mockery of everything I stand for, has me
reaching for the brandy. It is not even noon! There is only one
thing for it, I drink the bottle!
Approaching my counterpart with a swagger that belies my nerves
(okay, so the whole bottle of brandy may not have been a good idea);
I am at a loss of words. “Howsha doing?” I slur. Great. The whole
bottle definitely was not a good idea. He looks at me with pity.
Pity? Do not pity me you buffoon. I will take that big pointy hat
and shove it where the sun perhaps still shines.
‘Let’s go on an adventure’ he states. Hmmm, an adventure, yes, I can
do an adventure. Let’s do that! ‘What did you have in mind
vagabond?’ I turn to see he has gone. Where’d he go?! More to the
point... where did my spritz go?! Oh no! This cannot be good! There
he is! I spot him!
I make chase, fumbling across rooftops. Gosh he can run! He is
waving my spritz in the air like a demented mad man. Please! For the
love of god be careful with that! Don’t you know what that stuff can
do?! I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I am starting to feel very
sick. Perhaps it is the brandy but I know that whatever happens next
is not going to be good.
He stops about seven houses in front of me with a maniacal look on
his face. He is up to something. Then... he uses my spritz. Not just
some of it, ALL of it! Oh my! Whatever he has done is going to be
I catch up to him puffing and panting feeling positively ill. ‘What
did you do?!’ I scream at him. He laughs and then smirks at me. ‘Why
don’t you see’ he exclaims. He knows my powers! The thought sends a
shock through my spine. He knew all along! The conniving little....
breathe, just breathe.
I put my hand on the roof where the spritz is settling in a purple
haze. He has created an author. Hmm, that doesn’t seem so bad. 50
Shades of Grey! I visibly relax. He hasn’t done too much damage!
Then, why is he still smirking?! ‘Look closer’ he laughs.
I inch closer, delving into the book. Oh my! He’s created... it’s
not, I can’t believe it. Sweat forms on my brow. I’m going straight
to hell. The little, devious, trouble making urchin has, in my name,
using MY spritz, created... mummy porn!
Right you little oaf! This is game on!
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