Explosions and Your Dad’s Cologne

Dear Mini-humans,

          It seems to us that your jail/ school has gotten just as tired of you being on their lands as we are of you insisting on living on ours’. For some reason, you “children” are not going there every morning. From what we know, Michael Westerholm III, Director of Food Services has decreed that you children should have what your jail/school calls, “Summer Break.” We the gnomes can’t tell you how much we do not like that you are here all day long. It is not a break for us! This is torture and yet another reason why we must one day conquer the Catfeetrium once and for all!

          It is super annoying that you insist on playing outside and making noise while we the gnomes are trying to rest in our home under the tree so that we will be ready to make war against the Woodland Fairies when night falls. You can’t imagine all of the wonderful ideas and brilliant plans of how to finally convince the Woodland Fairies to move to Antarctica that is never able to be dreamt of because you children insist on scootering and playing in your tree house!

          While we gnomes detest the fact that you are currently spending more time on our lands, there is one day of this “Summer Break” that we love. I believe you call it the Wourth of Who Lies or Indedance Day. We the gnomes are not sure, but we can honestly say that for all of the misery and grief you trespassers have brought to our land, we cherish this day in our noble gnome hearts.

          “Why?” You might ask? It is a day all about fire, grilled meat, and explosions. These are things that we the gnomes enjoy. We love the fact that your Dad grills meat outside. It smells good and quite frankly is easy to steal when that dude is not paying attention. I could say more about how easy it is to distract that guy, but based upon how many ice cream cones you eat when he is “watching” you, this doesn’t need to be said.

          Ok so back to the explosion part. This year, we the gnomes had devised the greatest plan of all. Slearpork and Jeff were able to sneak over to your neighbor’s house, Ralph, you know the guy with questionable body odor and only nine fingers? Well, it turns out that Ralph had a nice supply of what you call fireworks. Through the work of Jeff and Slearpork, the gnomes were able to acquire a big tube of fire to launch into the air. Do not be deceived, we the gnomes did not steal this for you “children’s” enjoyment.

          As always these fireworks were a part of our plan to make the Woodland Fairies leave our lands forever. This was our masterful plan. Sloppy Joe rode Goater to the edge of the forest where he invited Sunny and the Woodland Fairies to join him in the middle of our large field for a night of magic and surprise.

          It is a well-known fact that the Woodland Fairies are du, I mean they love surprises. Of course, they were amazed at a Living Sandwich and the talking goat so they followed them right away. What those Floating Flibberdyjibits didn’t realize is that they were being led into a trap. We the gnomes had aimed the firework we stole from Ralph at the Woodland Fairies.

          Don’t worry we weren’t going to blow them up, we are not crazy, just cranky. No, we had tied a giant balloon filled with pond scum, chewing gum, chipmunk farts, and a bottle of your Dad’s cologne so that right when the firework crashed in the middle of the field it would burst all over the Woodland Fairies and once they were covered in goo they would cry and then suddenly realize that they should move to Austria or the Philippines.

          This was a brilliant plan of course, but your Dad built your tree house in the wrong place and when we fired our missile of goo it bounced off of a tree limb and exploded on our noble clan of gnomes. We are now covered in goo and disgusted because now we need new clothes, which means another trip to the enchanted shopping mall.

          The Wourth of Who Lies was one of our favorite days, but now it is ruined because of the Woodland Fairies and your Dad. Therefore we the gnomes demand that your Dad trim the tree in front of your tree house so that the next time we fire a missile at the Woodland Fairies it doesn’t miss.

          We would prank your Dad right now, but we all smell like him and this is embarrassing so we must go shopping to rid our clan of his foul stench. However, I would tell him to sleep with one eye open for the next week. We will get him and the Woodland Fairies, that is once we get back from the Enchanted Shopping Mall.

Victory will be ours…one day,

Betrand G. Fizzywillow

Chief of the Gnomes.