gonzo

Gotta reread the last two chapters when I'm not loaded up on BP meds and tranqs...

Comicsartist

I was loaded up on BP meds and tranqs when I wrote it.

Ok...ok...not really.

A little weed, though. Just a little.

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Comicsartist

"Sir, please take the stand."

I walk over to the 'let me look you in the eye while the judge looks down on me' chair and took a seat.

"Sir, please stand and place your hand on the Bible."

"What if I'm Bhuddist?"

"Are you?"

"Well, at least somewhat."

"Put your hand on the Bible."

"Ok, but I'm warning you. I'm wiley. I bet you I can still lie."

"Impossible!"

"Alright...That's just silly," I said. "Let's get on with it."

"Do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"With my hand on the Bible I must."

"Sit down."

"Since you asked so nicely..."

"Now who is being silly?"

"I'm entitled."

The bailiff walked back to his post and the prosecuting attorney began his examination.

"Mr...Artist...Can you tell us in your own words what happened this past Easter Sunday?"

"I could, but it's already written at the beginning of this thread."

"How about a summary?"

"Oh, alright.

"Easter Bunny
myth or truth
that damned Gnome
appealed to my sweet tooth
Jehova's Witness
lying on his back
I blame the Gnome
he made me attack!"

"Are we to believe a 'gnome' caused you to kill a man?"

"Yes."

"The state rests."

"Hold on a minute. I know it sounds crazy, but at least call the damned Gnome bastard to the stand!"

"That'll have to wait until next time."

(To be continued...)

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Comicsartist

"Well, looky here. It's next time, " I said. "How about calling that Gnome bastard to the stand now?"

"As soon as you step down I will."

I went back to my seat and the prosecutor readied himself. No one thought the Gnome would appear, so what happened next startled them.

"Your Honor...I would like to call...um...'that Gnome bastard'...to the stand."

Nothing happened.

After half a minute the court room broke out in a murmur.

"He's nuts. That's what he-"
"Gnomes aren't real. Everyone knows-"
"Think he'll call the Easter Bunny next? Bet you-"

Suddenly, the doors flew open and a fog rolled in. A thick, dense fog that you can't see a foot in.

"Turn on the ceiling fans, bailiff." The judge said from his invisible bench.

The bailiff felt his way along the wall, I imagine, and found the switch, which I can attest to.

When the fog cleared, standing on the stand was that Gnome bastard.

The court let out a collective, "Holy shit."

"Ha HA!" I laughed. "Believe me now, ye of little faith?" Then I stuck my tongue out at them all and sat down.

"Wow...Um...Mr.-"

"Gnome Bastard."

"Gnome Bastard is your name??" The prosecuting attorney sounded as shocked as I was.

"What's it to ya?" Gnome Bastard snapped.

"I meant no offense, Mr. Bastard. It's just an odd name in our society."

"Good thing I'm not a part of 'your society' then, ain't it?"

"Of course you're a part of our society. Here you sit in a court of law."

"I'm a Gnome. I'm outside of natural law. Supernatural in origin. And, your advertising people love us."

"So the Roaming Gnome is-"

"My third cousin on my mother's side."

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gonzo

From here forth I will never look at a gnome without thinking gnome bastard, lol! You've ruimed me..

Comicsartist

"Really? He's your third cousin on your mother's side?"

"That's what I said, damn it."

"Could you get me a deal?"

"Could you get me a high-class hooker with a peg leg, a tramp stamp of Terrence Stamp in full on Zod regalia, and a lisp?"

"Well, I do know this girl..."

"Bullshit!"

"I'm a lawyer...it's what I do."

"Ask me a damn question or let me get back to searching for Mrs Right."

"The high-class hooker is your idea of Mrs Right?"

"Of course not, you imbecile. I want the tramp stamp to be of me, not that Zod fellow."

"Good luck with that, Mr. Bastard." The prosecuting attorney said. "Ahem. On the morning of...this past Easter-"

"What the fuck? You don't know the date?" Gnome Bastard balked.

"Blame Mr. Artist. He's writing this, and he's a bit of a pothead."

"I see, I see. Continue..."

"As I was saying. This past Easter Sunday, Mr. Bastard, do you recall where you were?"

"Of course. I was at home with me family. The Mrs cooked up some wonderful rabbit stew-"

"Objection!" I bellowed. "He said he's looking for Mrs Right!"

"Listen up, Sonny Jim." Gnome Bastard stared at me as he spoke. "Us gnomes like to get freaky. Last week the Mrs brought her version of Mr Right home. You think my want is weird, you should've seen this yahoo."

"Do tell..."

"Two words for ya: Abe Vigoda."

"No shit," I pondered aloud. "Vigoda is still living?"

"No one knows for sure."

"Getting back on topic, Mr. Bastard, you were at home on the morning in question. Is this correct?"

"Yes sir. And us gnomes never lie."

"My ass!" I screamed.

Gnome Bastard replied, "Get bent!"

"Go to hell!"

"Objection!!" Mr Prosecutor yelled.

"Fuck your mother!" Gnome Bastard yelled.

"I fucked your wife!"

"Who hasn't?"

The doors burst open.

"Me."

Standing there in full on Elmmer Fudd garb, carrying the biggest shotgun I have ever seen, and very much alive stood...

Abe Vigoda.

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gonzo

Oh jesus...lol...hep me, hep me.

Comicsartist

I leapt from my chair and shouted "Abe's alive! WooSah!"

He then turned the shotgun toward me and fired above my head. If not for my uncanny ability to suck me head into my torso like a turtle, this tale would never have been written. Popping it back takes a little doing, though.

So, there I was, over my collarbone my eyes were peeking, the barrels of the shotgun smoking, Gnome Bastard on the stand quaking, and Abe Vigoda watching the room and reloading.

I took my hat off, grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled upward.

My nose cleared.

Once more I pulled, and with a loud POP, my goatee cleared my collarbone. Hard to get ones bearings after an event like that. I decided to sit down and see how this all played out.

"What are you doing here, Vigoda?" Gnome Bastard asked through clenched teeth. "And why the hell are you dressed up as Elmer Fudd?"

"For one, I'm here to testify on this man's behalf," he said as he motioned towards me. "And the get-up is just in case the Easter Bunny shows."

"What? You're testifying for him? Why?"

"Because you are a terror, Gnome Bastard. You don't get Abe Vigoda out of bed and then deny him his desire. I might have rigormortis, but-"

"Don't say it, Abe!" I call out.

"Well, it's true. Vigoda needs Viagra. I popped one, then popped one. I went to Bastard's hovel only to find the place empty."

"Where were you, Bastard?" I asked him.

"Wait a minute, now," the judge said. "This is a madhouse! I want order in the court!"

Gnome Bastard, Vigoda, and myself all stared at the judge.

"Er...uh...Mr Bailiff? Little help?"

Gnome Bastard pointed at the bailiff. With a puff of smoke, Bull Shannon became a bull dyke. She took one look at a hot little red-head in the back and it was over. Out the door she went, red-head in tow.

"You were saying, your Honor?" Gnome Bastard smirked.

"I do believe I was saying 'carry on'."

"Wise choice."

"Where were we?" Vigoda asked.

"Shit," I said. "Let me scroll up a bit...Oh, yeah. Where were you, Mr. Bastard? Hmm?"

"What day was it?"

Vigoda spoke up, "it was last Tuesday. I remember it well."

Gnome Bastard looked a little perturbed, while my mind started racing.

"Last Tuesday," I thought to myself. "Why...if you take all the tales I have written about the Gnome, disregard any form of continuity, and rely on suspension of disbelief, last Tuesday Gnome Bastard robbed me!"

I saw my chance to put Gnome Bastard away, and I took it.

"Your Honor! Last Tuesday was when Gnome Bastard ransacked my house!"

"I've read your stories, Mr. Artist. And I do not disregard continuity."

There went that.


(To be continued...)

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Comicsartist

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lrrp

Meanwhile...in an underground bunker amid the bowels of Zurich. An army of smallish stunted fellows wearing pointy green caps and heavily moussed grey beards, tramp into a slate ampitheatre with vaulted ceilings.

Row upon row of kelly green tunics and angular elf boots execute precise parade turns in formations resembling dollar signs and pounds sterling.

At their fore, rides a regal looking elder, sitting astride an Airedale Terrier in battle armor named "Max"...

The very walls shudder with thousands of Gnomey voices expousing...

"Rrrrreeeecccooooolaaaaa".....

Forty Gnomes standing atop green plastic milk crates, blow into curved Swiss horns...

"Rrrrreeeecccooooolaaaaa".....

(in a voice like James Earl Jones on helium)

"This special counsel crisis meeting of the Gnomes Of Zurich will come to order! Grand Poo-Bah, Melvin Figowitz, presiding"!

"Brothers"! exclaims Melvin...

"A terrible fate looms before us. Brother Freidriech, while on a mountain sage & mad dog 20/20 bender, has been exposed in America"...

"He has even come out of his bunny suit and threatens to undo all of the careful work and toil we have expended in persuance of our fliatriot act effort to get a box of 'Swiss Miss' instant coco into every household in north America"!

"Whats worse... It appears he has actually testified in court, about his gnomeness, and the cadbury creamy eggs!"

"This menace must be silenced for good... before more viagra swilling Abe Vigoda clones festoon the world with candy apple red walkers, Stevens shotguns, and 'Love Boat' reruns!"

"I want this Comicsartist person's head on a stick! He must not be allowed to ruin all we have worked so hard to build. If the Bilderburgers get wind of our security lapse, the damage will be unsustainable...TO ARMS...TO ARMS!!!"