Dear Mini-humans,
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???? You children have no idea what winter is for. As I have said many times before winter exists for one reason and that is to make war with the Woodland Fairies. By now you should know that we, the gnomes, wait all year for this moment. It is a glorious time when we make the journey from what you call the front yard to the forest of those flying car alarms to pay them back for all of the “happiness” they have tried to share with us all year.
After days of rebuilding our weapons of war due to our giant war sled crashing because of your ramp, we were finally ready to enter the field of battle. When we finally reached what you humans call the “backyard,” do you know what we discovered? Potholes all over the snow because you children pulled up the precious snow to make snowballs to throw at each other!
Do you know how uncomfortable it is to ride in a war sled pulled by badgers that hits constant potholes and bumps? IT IS REALLY PAINFUL! Several of the gnomes of our clan even considered getting a massage. Gnomes don’t get massages because it robs them of their second greatest joy in life behind plotting the end of the Woodland Fairies, complaining. Late at night when other creatures sit around fires telling stories, we complain about all of the things we didn’t like that day. Believe me, that is always a lot.
Once we finally made it through your pothole-filled backyard, we thought, “At last we have a clear path to the field of battle.” We couldn’t have been more wrong. When we reached the bottom of the great hill we ran right into a giant wall of snow that you call a fort. We call it building a fence on property that does not belong to you. You children are terrible neighbors! It took us five hours to climb over your “snow fort” and repack our sled!
Gnomes love war, but we hate exercise. You children made us exercise, a lot, while we climbed over the fence. We the gnomes are known for our round shape and large bellies. Thanks to you on the day that we climbed over your snow wall we all lost weight. NOW OUR PANTS FALL DOWN EVERYWHERE WE GO!
To further express our extreme displeasure with you please accept this lone tennis shoe we found in the yard. You will notice a certain smell. We took the opportunity to fill the shoe with old French Fries and tuna fish. May its putrid smell haunt you forever!
Ughhhhh,
Betrand G. Fizzywillow