Tears of the Gnomes
A long, long time ago, back even before the Dead Sea was sick, Trolls and Gnomes lived in peace.
The Gnome King, Fornicator of Bunnies III, Dreaded Trash Gobbler, and Potentate of Putrescence, persuaded a Troll by the name of Neil into providing muscle and knowledge to provide shelter for the Gnomes. The Gnome King persuaded Neil with promises of hard work and quiet nights.
The Troll King, Builder of All things Bigger than a Breadbox, was told a tale of Trollnapping by Neil’s wife, Fatassbitch. She lied to get Neil back; as she was much of the reason he went to the Gnomes in the first place. She knew that without Neil, she would have to do something other than stuffing her face and would rather sit at home and eat gummy worms (real ones, still wriggling) while watching the kids play than actually lift a finger or anything that might actually resemble real work. Her specialty in life was complaining and being shrill while trying to change the rest of world into a place that she liked better.
The Troll King, thinking F.A.B. was sincere, declared that Neil would be rescued and returned to F.A.B. The Troll King was bored and longed for the days of Fairy tales and bloodshed. What he got was terrified Gnomes that gave up Neil (and their virtue) easily in order to keep their blood on the inside. Gnomes have no dignity to protect and are self serving opportunists.
Neil did not want to be rescued. He liked his new life and enjoyed the hours of hard labor. He felt like he is doing good, and was definitely creating a higher standard of living for Gnomes, who now have roofs over their heads and heated caves. Gnome infant mortality went down and Gnome health insurance became affordable. They got indoor plumbing and no longer had to go outside in the cold to pee. The latter makes the Gnomefems particularly grateful as the Gnomebutt is unusually close to the ground and in the winter months Gnomefems are always imprinting their cheeks to the snow when relieving themselves.
As Neil missed his beloved Gnomes, (And the peace of not living with Fatassbitch) so did the Gnomes miss him and the freedom from work he provided, to this very day they all cry every night in honor of Neil and pray for his return.
Thus began the war between Gnomes and Trolls. It lasted almost a full year and three gnomes got rather nasty paper cuts while sending letters to friends. One Troll was injured when a Gnome threw a rock at him and actually hit him near the eye. The rest of the war was pretty much uneventful with a lot of name-calling and gestures across some imaginary line in the forest.
Neil tried to return to the life he loved, but Fatassbitch, not wanting him to ever get away from her, had tied a thin wire to his neither regions in his sleep. Not being the brightest of Trolls, he cut off his naughties jumping from a second story window and bled to death in the night. He never knew what happened.
Fatassbitch had screwed herself and ended up as a scullery maid in the cellars of the Troll King and was forced into hours upon hours of mindless drudgery due to her own laziness. (And not thinking her restraint of Neil all the way through. She should have tied his ankle instead of his wankle.)
In modern times, each morning we see the legacy of The War of Trolls and Gnomes. The dew that coats our cars and growing things are the Tears of the Gnomes. They are forever destined to actually have to work for shelter and are forever unhappy about it, crying their eyes out almost every night.
Messy little bastards, aren’t they?
The Gnome King, Fornicator of Bunnies III, Dreaded Trash Gobbler, and Potentate of Putrescence, persuaded a Troll by the name of Neil into providing muscle and knowledge to provide shelter for the Gnomes. The Gnome King persuaded Neil with promises of hard work and quiet nights.
The Troll King, Builder of All things Bigger than a Breadbox, was told a tale of Trollnapping by Neil’s wife, Fatassbitch. She lied to get Neil back; as she was much of the reason he went to the Gnomes in the first place. She knew that without Neil, she would have to do something other than stuffing her face and would rather sit at home and eat gummy worms (real ones, still wriggling) while watching the kids play than actually lift a finger or anything that might actually resemble real work. Her specialty in life was complaining and being shrill while trying to change the rest of world into a place that she liked better.
The Troll King, thinking F.A.B. was sincere, declared that Neil would be rescued and returned to F.A.B. The Troll King was bored and longed for the days of Fairy tales and bloodshed. What he got was terrified Gnomes that gave up Neil (and their virtue) easily in order to keep their blood on the inside. Gnomes have no dignity to protect and are self serving opportunists.
Neil did not want to be rescued. He liked his new life and enjoyed the hours of hard labor. He felt like he is doing good, and was definitely creating a higher standard of living for Gnomes, who now have roofs over their heads and heated caves. Gnome infant mortality went down and Gnome health insurance became affordable. They got indoor plumbing and no longer had to go outside in the cold to pee. The latter makes the Gnomefems particularly grateful as the Gnomebutt is unusually close to the ground and in the winter months Gnomefems are always imprinting their cheeks to the snow when relieving themselves.
As Neil missed his beloved Gnomes, (And the peace of not living with Fatassbitch) so did the Gnomes miss him and the freedom from work he provided, to this very day they all cry every night in honor of Neil and pray for his return.
Thus began the war between Gnomes and Trolls. It lasted almost a full year and three gnomes got rather nasty paper cuts while sending letters to friends. One Troll was injured when a Gnome threw a rock at him and actually hit him near the eye. The rest of the war was pretty much uneventful with a lot of name-calling and gestures across some imaginary line in the forest.
Neil tried to return to the life he loved, but Fatassbitch, not wanting him to ever get away from her, had tied a thin wire to his neither regions in his sleep. Not being the brightest of Trolls, he cut off his naughties jumping from a second story window and bled to death in the night. He never knew what happened.
Fatassbitch had screwed herself and ended up as a scullery maid in the cellars of the Troll King and was forced into hours upon hours of mindless drudgery due to her own laziness. (And not thinking her restraint of Neil all the way through. She should have tied his ankle instead of his wankle.)
In modern times, each morning we see the legacy of The War of Trolls and Gnomes. The dew that coats our cars and growing things are the Tears of the Gnomes. They are forever destined to actually have to work for shelter and are forever unhappy about it, crying their eyes out almost every night.
Messy little bastards, aren’t they?
posted by MizfiTroll at 5:18 AM
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