The tape spooled out of the cassette door, the last wail of the bagpipes screeched out of the beat up speakers. Fitting. Bob would appreciate the sentiment. I shoveled the dirt over the metal box in which Bob would lay for the rest of time. “Goodbye Bob. You were the best pygmy dragon a boy could know.” I brushed the dirt off of my knees and made my way to the kitchen.
“Well that’s enough of that nonsense, now will you just go and buy a new little monster? All of your crying and caterwauling is more than I can stand.” My mother’s harsh tones burned my soul as she poured me a glass of milk to go with my oreos.
“I can’t replace Bob! There’s no way to replace him! He was one of a kind!” She just didn’t get it, Bob was a pygmy dragon, a rare breed of an extinct species…of course he would be nigh impossible to replace, as if I would want that.
This note is to inform the holder that Charlie the Gnome has requested your presence at a social outing of his choosing. Please respond by carrier pigeon or another outdated and unreliable mode of communication. (I suggest smoke signals). Signed, Charlie the Gnome’s social secretary.
“When did a lawn gnome get a social secretary?” I mused aloud, “nevermind that anyways, how do I get out of this date? Last time Charlie tried this, he showed up in a loincloth and kept … adjusting himself. Not to mention the fact that his idea of a ‘romantic’ evening included a trip to a strip club, and underground, illegal strip club at that!”
My friend Jerri shook her head in bemusement. “What do you expect, getting involved, in ANY way with a lawn gnome?”
Charlie hollered up the stairwell, “Come on Allie we’re going to be late!”
“I am NOT going to see Episode 1 in 3D with you….AGAIN. It doesn’t even make sense!”
“It doesn’t have to make sense! It’s George Lucas’ gift to us after years and years of no new films! He re-releases his most visually stunning movies in 3D so that we can continue to worship at the alter of podraces and double ended lightsabers!” He wheedled.
“So that’s all you need to make you happy? Flashy trash? What about substance Charlie? There’s nothing there to sink your teeth into. Why would any head of state sign a treaty that would allow mechanical beings, and / or bugs to keep a blockade around their planet, cutting off the materials and goods that her people would need to survive?” Allie slammed her door. “There is nothing you can say that will convince me to come see it with you AGAIN!”
Charlie sighed, defeated. “Not even agreeing to go see Sex and the City 3 with you when it comes out?”
Allie’s head popped out into the stairwell, “And have you sigh dramatically and fall asleep like you did last time? No way in hell. I’ll go with Bree and Lexie.” The door slammed again.
Charlie tried again, “What about going ice skating at the park?”
Once again the door opened and Charlie saw Allie’s head, “So you can complain every time you fall over on your ass? And bitch about how cold it is? I hardly think so.”
“Charlie… just give it up. There’s nothing you can offer me that will convince me to go to your utter geek-fest with you.”
“But…but… how am I supposed to get there? Mom said you’d drive me!” Charlie’s chin began to quiver, “you promised!”
Allie sighed, “Fine, but I’m not staying. I’m just dropping you off. And you have to find your own way home!”
Emerald as the isle from where he was exiled, Ernie twisted and scrunched his body across the cool surface of the table, his belly leaving a slight slime trail.
Charlie dove head first into the offal pit, scrounging through the refuse for something edible, or at least something that would not kill him upon consumption. He came up for air, exhaling a fetid stench into the cold morning air.
Lilly accessed my emotional interface, located the algorithms that conveyed love, removed the iso-chips, and then crushed them beneath her booted heel.
Adolfa mourned for the life she had once lived, being Fuhrer of the Fatherland, memories of Eva, of the party, of all the things she had done as Adolf; she allowed her eyes to unfocus and her thoughts played out in the fluids of her eyes.
Four wheels attempted to grip the sand of the road, Charlie spun the steering column with the palm of his hand.
The wizened crone bent in half from age handed me a crimson orb from the tree of forbidden fruit, knowing it could end my existance made it taste all the more sweet.