Thursday, April 19, 2012

Running on Empty

An earthen wind blows through the semi-lighted forest. A clam stream flows through and a single female dear drinks deeply.

I’m running through said scenery, with the wind in my face, smiling contentedly. No, hold on; that’s not a smile, I’m screaming! A small troop of garden gnomes chases after, constantly tripping over rocks, tree stumps, and other forest-y things. Still, they manage to keep pace with me.

I look back, wondering how something made of porcelain with its legs fused together can run so fast. But, damn, they’re sexy. If they weren’t trying to kill me, I’d be hitting on them.

Faster and faster I go, and, looking down, I wonder why I chose today to wear my cement boots. Damn that Payless and their convincing sales pitch.

I see a house up ahead and decide I’d rather be killed by the monstrosity that inevitably lives inside than a pack of pissed off garden decorations. Why oh why did I decide to play garden gnome baseball? How was I supposed to know they were alive? Sure, they talk to me sometimes, but I thought that was just my own instability. I mean, sometimes I have whole conversations with Richard Nixon and Johnny Carson. We talk about hot chicks, like Madeline Albright.

Entering the house, I see an old woman in a bed.

“Grandma, what a big beard you have,” I say.

“All the better to scratch my arms with, oh yeah!” she replies.

 “And Grandma, what big teeth you have,” I add.

 “All the better to snap into a Slim Jim with, oh yeah!” Grandma returns.

 “And Grandma, what big python-like arms you have,” I point out.

“No shit,” replies Grandma. “Oh, I mean, all the better to kick garden gnome ass with. Oh yeah!”

Oh my God! It’s Grandma Savage! I tell her of the garden gnomes chasing me, and she gets out of bed with a grin.

“I’ll be right back. Oh yeah! I’m gonna round up Grandpa Hogan and we’ll go snap into some slim gnomes!”

She bolts out the door. Seconds later, she pops her head back in and bellows, “Oh yeah!”

Outside, I hear gruff voices yell and porcelain shatters. Grandpa Hogan sticks his face through an open window.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, Brother. We took care of those unholy porcelain demons!”

 “Oh yeah!” Grandma Savage adds.

 “We’re gonna make us a new toilet seat, Brother!” Grandpa Hogan growls. “Now run along, little Hulkster.”

I thank the elderly couple and begin walking off.

Uh-oh, there’s something following behind me. It’s short and sexy… It must be a garden gnome!

My fears are alleviated when I see it is only Madline Albright. I grin with genuine happiness, and, staring into her pale green eyes, I tell her I missed her. She hugs me briefly.

“I missed you too, Ms. Reno,” she replies.

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