Gingerbun1
| I think I accidently hit on some guy I don't know today... I will maybe post the story later... for now... NAP |
I was not satisfied. Here is my comment.
I like stories, so I am going to tell it for you.
Melvin was walking along the quad, weaving in and out of jocks and fratboys who were throwing frisbees frivolously. The jocks' baseball caps were backwards; the frat boys' merely askew. Melvin passed them, giving the guys the merest of scornful glances before getting lost in her own head yet again. All of a sudden, a gnome appeared on Melvin's shoulder.
"'Ey," the gnome greeted Melvin with the passive murmur of an old friend.
"Hell...hello," Melvin muttered with the stammering incredulity of a woman who had just seen a gnome on her shoulder.
The gnarled gnome babbled backwardly, "A proposition I have to make you." Never one to turn down an opportunity in life, Melvin lent the gnome an ear. "I'm listening," she listened.
Continuing to unfurl his nefarious plot, the gnome whispered in Melvin's ear. "Grant you the wish your heart most desires I will if guess my name you can." Melvin obviously assented to this gnome-bargain, not knowing that entering into a gnome bargain puts a person at great personal risk.
"Three guesses you have. If fail you do, a most mischievous fate will befall your brothers!" Melvin was in a muddle, as she had not the foresight to predict this fiendish devilry.
"My first guess," ventured Melvin, "is Rumplestiltskin."
"No fairy-tale is this, wench," chuckled the churlish gnome. "Two guesses, no take-backs!"
"Then surely your name is James," Melvin proclaimed. Melvin was wrong, as demonstrated by the gnome's wagging head and ever-glowing glee. The gnome was gleeful, you see, because he took great joy in his job--that being the job of creating mischief.
A sly grin came to Melvin's face. "Your name is Woodrow!" The gnome wiped the grin off of his grizzled face.
"Impossible! How could you know!" The gnome's question was answered as he looked down and saw that he was still wearing his nametag from his brunch meeting with the Dean of Students and the president of the university.
"I WILL NOT GIVE YOU YOUR WISH! THAT IS CHEATING!" The gnome was in an uproar. He jumped off of Melvin's shoulder and began to run across the quad. Melvin turned to her left, and for the first time since meeting the fiend, she shouted. "GIVE IT TO ME NOW!" Unfortunately, immediately to her left was a silly frat-boy, looking resplendent in all of his popped-collar glory. The frat boy's smile widened, and a look of madness swept his eyes.
After a madcap chase, Melvin finally escaped. However, she was too exhausted to tell anybody. She had to take a nap.
Fin.
Melvin was walking along the quad, weaving in and out of jocks and fratboys who were throwing frisbees frivolously. The jocks' baseball caps were backwards; the frat boys' merely askew. Melvin passed them, giving the guys the merest of scornful glances before getting lost in her own head yet again. All of a sudden, a gnome appeared on Melvin's shoulder.
"'Ey," the gnome greeted Melvin with the passive murmur of an old friend.
"Hell...hello," Melvin muttered with the stammering incredulity of a woman who had just seen a gnome on her shoulder.
The gnarled gnome babbled backwardly, "A proposition I have to make you." Never one to turn down an opportunity in life, Melvin lent the gnome an ear. "I'm listening," she listened.
Continuing to unfurl his nefarious plot, the gnome whispered in Melvin's ear. "Grant you the wish your heart most desires I will if guess my name you can." Melvin obviously assented to this gnome-bargain, not knowing that entering into a gnome bargain puts a person at great personal risk.
"Three guesses you have. If fail you do, a most mischievous fate will befall your brothers!" Melvin was in a muddle, as she had not the foresight to predict this fiendish devilry.
"My first guess," ventured Melvin, "is Rumplestiltskin."
"No fairy-tale is this, wench," chuckled the churlish gnome. "Two guesses, no take-backs!"
"Then surely your name is James," Melvin proclaimed. Melvin was wrong, as demonstrated by the gnome's wagging head and ever-glowing glee. The gnome was gleeful, you see, because he took great joy in his job--that being the job of creating mischief.
A sly grin came to Melvin's face. "Your name is Woodrow!" The gnome wiped the grin off of his grizzled face.
"Impossible! How could you know!" The gnome's question was answered as he looked down and saw that he was still wearing his nametag from his brunch meeting with the Dean of Students and the president of the university.
"I WILL NOT GIVE YOU YOUR WISH! THAT IS CHEATING!" The gnome was in an uproar. He jumped off of Melvin's shoulder and began to run across the quad. Melvin turned to her left, and for the first time since meeting the fiend, she shouted. "GIVE IT TO ME NOW!" Unfortunately, immediately to her left was a silly frat-boy, looking resplendent in all of his popped-collar glory. The frat boy's smile widened, and a look of madness swept his eyes.
After a madcap chase, Melvin finally escaped. However, she was too exhausted to tell anybody. She had to take a nap.
Fin.
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