What do Gnomes REALLY hate?

 Sitting 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 BIG!

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!

Copyright Campaign for Gnomal Ascendancy 2009