gonzo

Haaaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!!! Gnome with 'tude!

Comicsartist

"Gnome Bastard, you bastard!!!" I screamed. "You never said there were more of you little heathens!"

"Read on, jackass. They ain't too happy with me, either..."

"Melvin? M-e-l-v-i...Melvin?" I pondered.

Just then, the ceiling of the courtroom opened, and down from the sky came Dean Martin. Jerry burst through the doors a moment later.

"Hey Deeeean! Deeeeean!" Jerry called out to his long lost friend.

"Whut is it, Jerry? I'm supposed to be havin' a highball with Franky in a few."

"This guy's trying to steal our 'Melvin' bit!"

"Jerry, the Colgate Comedy Hour ended a long time ago. No one remembers the golfing skit."

"I sure do!" I called to Dean. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have written you in."

"How old are you, son?"

"I got the Golden Age of Comedy on tape...Let's leave it at that."

"Aaaay, Dean-o! Where'd ya go, ya old lush?" Franky called from above.

"Ah'm on my way, Franky! Ah got my eye on Marilyn, tonight."

"Better ask Joe, first, Dean-o."

And with that, Dean ascended to the skies once more, Jerry walked out the door, Franky poured the drinks, and Abe awoke from another forty winks.

"Melvin?" I asked.

"His mother was a Martin and Lewis fan."

"Ah, that explains it."
"What the hell?" I asked aloud. "What did you do to the yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs, Bastard? Or, should I call you Freidriech?"

"I hate the name Freidriech. That's why I prefer Gnome Bastard. Less offensive."

"What. About. The. Yummy. Cadbury. Creme. Eggs."

"I turned them all into stale Peeps."

My eyes widened in horror and a gutteral howl crawled from my throat.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO-pause for breath-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Jesus H. Christ! Flair for the dramatic much?"

"You bastard, Bastard. Have you no compassion?!"

He thought for a moment, scratching his head.

"Nope."


Abe snapped to.
"I'm not a clone! I'm the original!"

"No way in HELL you're the original, Abe. You have to be dead by now."

"I'm not! I swear I'm not! I'm not dead yet!"

Suddenly, the room was crowded with the cast of Quest for the Holy Grail. They all looked at me, shook their heads, and walked out, leaving us to it once more. Not Yet Dead Fred walked up to me, kicked me in the shin, and collapsed onto a cart.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Bilderbugers, gnomes coming to collect my head, Gnome Bastard, Abe Vigoda, the Easter Bunny...

The shit had hit the fan...


(To be continued....)

__________________

gonzo

Only you could work part of the Brat Pack in with Abe Vigoda and a Gnome namd Freidriech! LOL!

Comicsartist

I debated whether or not to get out of bed yesterday. Two things, though, motivated me. One, I figured if the Son can rise, so can I. And, two, that damned anthropomorphic rabbit would soon be here.

See, this is why I avoid church on Easter Sunday. I know as soon as my back is turned, my attention elsewhere, my house left unguarded, the rabbit will break in. Even if he leaves yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs, the idea of another break in made me shudder. I have enough trouble with gnomes.

I have never seen the rabbit first hand, but I remember years ago, riding home from church as a little boy, my dad (rip) looked out the driver's side window and said, "Hey! Look! The Easter Bunny!"

My brother, four years my senior, and my mother, who would kill me for telling her age, both acted in a like manner. "Yeah! There he is! Did you see him, S?"

Of course, I did not...to this day I wonder whether they really saw the rabbit, or if it was all an elaborate ruse...But, that almost encounter, years later, would cause me to be ready should I meet the rabbit, face to buck-toothed face.

At the time, the rabbit seemed innocent enough. After all these years, though, what with terrorism, Dubya, governmental bastards and Jehova's Witnesses peeking in on you, an anthropomorphic rabbit breaking into my house and leaving me candy just didn't seem safe anymore. What if he felt froggy and decided to leave stale Peeps?

The horror.

I had been awake for twenty minutes when I heard the front door knob jostle. "He's here." I thought.
I walk silently to the door, and look out the peep hole...and there's nothing there. False alarm...

...or was it? Rabbits are small...and I'm not sure how tall the Easter Bunny would be. I had never seen him, so how could I know? Was he a six footer like Harvey? Shit...was he invisible like Harvey? I hadn't accounted for an invisible Easter Bunny. Thankfully, I had no need.
I opened the door, and there at my feet was a three foot tall purple rabbit with a set of lock picks in hand.
"Well, well, well...What's all this, then?"
The rabbit looked up at me, and muttered something.
"What was that?" I asked.
"I said, 'shit'."
Taken aback, I asked him why.
"Why? How about, here I am, the Easter Bunny, getting ready to leave yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs, and I get caught in the act. The other's will never let me live this down."
"Wait...did you say others?"
"Of course. You don't think that...wait...you thought it was the same rabbit all these years? Anthropomorphic we may be, but we're not immortal. Well, we're almost immortal, but that fucker, Fudd, is dangerous."
"Huh?"
"Fudd. You know, Elmer Fudd."
"He looks like a simp in the cartoons, man. Bugs always gets away."
"Bugs always gets away. Do you have ANY idea how SICK I am of Bugs Bunny? He's the hero of Easter Bunny history. He's also the only one of us who has faced off with Fudd and survived. Any time I go on a date, I hear about Bugs. Every time I turn on the news, I hear about Bugs. Every time I sleep, hell, I have nightmares about bugs."
"I think 'night-hares' would've been funny..."
"That's what you get for thinking."
"Hey, now. Let's not get personal."
"You're standing there, blocking me from doing my professional duties, taking food from my 35 kids' mouths, and you're telling me not to get personal?"
"You were going to break into MY HOUSE!"
"I was going to leave you yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs!"
After a few moments thought, I said, "well, I do love yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs, but how do I know they're safe?"
"Dude...this isn't Halloween."
"Are you sure? You could be that damned gnome in a rabbit costume. I wouldn't put it past him..."
The rabbit's eyes dialated and grew wide. A small smirk spread over his lips. He reached up a hand and pulled off his rabbit face, and there was the face of terror. It was the damned gnome.

"Well played...well played...But you haven't seent the last of me. Next time, though, you won't be so lucky."

The gnome disappeared in a poof of smoke.

I shut the door, frazzled, but happy to be alive, when someone knocks.

This time, I am ready. I grab my double barreled shotgun open the door, take aim, and blow to bits what was once standing there.
After the smoke clears, I see what I have done. There's a Watchtower pamphlet lying in a pool of crimson.

That damned gnome did it again.

Maybe I can plead temporary insanity?

The cops arrived soon after the accidental shooting of the Jehova's Witness. I thought I might get off light, it being an accident and all, but as soon as I said, "I thought he was the Gnome!" they called the men in white.
The crazy catchers arrived in record time. Tell them there's a loon with a double barrel shotgun ranting about a Gnome in an Easter Bunny costume, and they'll come running.

Weird phrase, that. "They come running." I don't know many people that can come walking, let alone running. The knees tend to go weak before the hundred meter dash can be won.

Back on point.

Being Easter, the crazy catchers decided to spiff up their uniforms a bit. One had lavender coveralls on with pastel eggs all over, the other two had bunny tails and ears. And they were after me.
"Sir? We need you to come with us, please."
"What the hell for? It was self defence!"
"Sir...you shot and killed a Jehova's Witness."
"It was an accident, but tell me the bastard didn't have it coming! Here it is, Easter, the Gnome shows up in costume...The swine was spying on me!"
"The Witness or the Gnome?"
"The Gnome, at first, but also the Witness. He had to have seen me standing here yelling at the Gnome!"
"Well, sir, you killed the Witness witness. If there was a Gnome here, in an Easter Bunny costume, no less, well, dead Witnesses can't witness much, can they?"
"You're the crazy fucker here, not me. I tell ya, the Gnome did this to me!"
About that time they pulled out the largest net I have ever seen. Twelve feet long and a large enough net to catch a large man. I knew what was coming.
I ran to the right, swing and a miss.
I ran to the left, swing and a miss.
I made a beeline straight to the smaller catcher with rabbit ears and ganked them from him. Putting them on my head, I became a Skinwalker. The power of the Bunny was mine.
Turns out the only power the Bunny has is the ability to hop. This white boy could jump, but upon seeing the transformation the catchers decided to forgo the net, and they brought out a mallet.
They were going to play Human Whack-a-Mole.
After a few minutes of them trying to clobber me, the cop pulled out his tazer.
"Aw, shit. Don't tase me, bro!"
He fired at that same moment and lit me up like a Christmas tree.
Now, I love electroshock as much as anyone else, but this was a new one for me. Before I could stop myself, I started singing Feed my Frankenstein. Well, I ain't evil, I'm just good lookin'. Start a little fire and baby start cookin'.

Out like a light went I.

I spent three days in the local jail. Let me tell ya, no one fucked with me. Would you mess with someone ranting and raving about Gnomes, the Easter Bunny, Cadburry Creme Eggs and wearing bunny ears?

...I...think...not.

On the third day I was to appear in front of Judge Judy for my trial. Everyone knew it would be a media circus anyway, so why not have an insane clown presiding?

I was dressed in my Sunday best, which reminded me of that fateful Easter Sunday long ago, when my curiosity about the Easter Bunny started. Back to times before that damned Gnome interfered in my life. Innocent times, when Cadbury Creme Eggs were yummy, and the Easter Bunny was real.
I snapped to real quick.

"Sir! You will NOT get a glossy look in your eyes in MY courtroom! NO REMINISCING! Do you understand me?" Judge Judy screamed at me.

"Sure thing, Judgey Wudgey."

That was a mistake.

"Contempt! YOU are IN conTEMPT!"

"Retract those claws, kitten! It's a term of endearment!"

"My ass is a term of endearment so quit blowing smoke up it!"

"What?"

"I'm on new blood pressure meds. I don't know what it means."

"As long as you're aware you made little to no sense, there's still hope."

"Alright, smartass. But you're still in contempt."

"Can I make it up to you?" I asked with a wink, putting on the charm.

She smirked, then...threw her gavel at me. Hit me in the head and out I went again.

When I came to this time around I found myself in a different court room with a new judge. Judy apparently popped a handful of blood pressure meds, flipped the fuck out, and came within an inch of killing the prosecuting attorney (which would have been fine with me) and yours truly (which wouldn't have sat well). And, she then sentenced herself to twenty years, with time off for good behavior, appealed her own case and won, and walked out of the courthouse a free woman.

Fucking justice.

I thought about suing her, but she found Jesus during her troubled time. Of course, once she leveled out on the blood pressure meds, she found out Jesus was nothing more than a construction worker who was working on the crown moulding when she had her episode.

Jesus has since been deported back to Canada.

....

"Call your first witness."

"Your honor, the State would like to call Mr...Uh...Sir? What is your name?"

"You talking to me?" I ask.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"They call me Mr. ****."

"Excuse me?"

"They call me Mr. ****."

"Sir, are you aware that asterix signs are taking the place of the letters in your name?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry, personal filter. Call me Comicsartist."

"This is highly unusual..."

"This whole fucking story is highly unusual. Deal with it."

"I am the prosecuting attorney! I am looking to throw you in prison for the rest of your life! I am-"

"A character in a nonsensical tale about that damned Gnome bastard, the Easter Bunny, Judge Judy going apeshit, me killing a Jehovah's witness who I thought was that damned Gnome bastard dressed as the Easter Bunny, and my ensuing trial."

"...Point taken."

"Now, shut the fuck up and get back to calling me to the stand."
"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."

"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."

"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.

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.

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)

"Gnome Bastard, you bastard!!!" I screamed. "You never said there were more of you little heathens!"

"Read on, jackass. They ain't too happy with me, either..."


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

"Brothers"! exclaims Melvin...
"Melvin? M-e-l-v-i...Melvin?" I pondered.

Just then, the ceiling of the courtroom opened, and down from the sky came Dean Martin. Jerry burst through the doors a moment later.

"Hey Deeeean! Deeeeean!" Jerry called out to his long lost friend.

"Whut is it, Jerry? I'm supposed to be havin' a highball with Franky in a few."

"This guy's trying to steal our 'Melvin' bit!"

"Jerry, the Colgate Comedy Hour ended a long time ago. No one remembers the golfing skit."

"I sure do!" I called to Dean. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have written you in."

"How old are you, son?"

"I got the Golden Age of Comedy on tape...Let's leave it at that."

"Aaaay, Dean-o! Where'd ya go, ya old lush?" Franky called from above.

"Ah'm on my way, Franky! Ah got my eye on Marilyn, tonight."

"Better ask Joe, first, Dean-o."

And with that, Dean ascended to the skies once more, Jerry walked out the door, Franky poured the drinks, and Abe awoke from another forty winks.

"Melvin?" I asked.

"His mother was a Martin and Lewis fan."

"Ah, that explains it."


"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!";
"What the hell?" I asked aloud. "What did you do to the yummy Cadbury Creme Eggs, Bastard? Or, should I call you Freidriech?"

"I hate the name Freidriech. That's why I prefer Gnome Bastard. Less offensive."

"What. About. The. Yummy. Cadbury. Creme. Eggs."

"I turned them all into stale Peeps."

My eyes widened in horror and a gutteral howl crawled from my throat.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO-pause for breath-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Jesus H. Christ! Flair for the dramatic much?"

"You bastard, Bastard. Have you no compassion?!"

He thought for a moment, scratching his head.

"Nope."




"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!"
Abe snapped to.
"I'm not a clone! I'm the original!"

"No way in HELL you're the original, Abe. You have to be dead by now."

"I'm not! I swear I'm not! I'm not dead yet!"

Suddenly, the room was crowded with the cast of Quest for the Holy Grail. They all looked at me, shook their heads, and walked out, leaving us to it once more. Not Yet Dead Fred walked up to me, kicked me in the shin, and collapsed onto a cart.


"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!!!"

I couldn't believe my eyes. Bilderbugers, gnomes coming to collect my head, Gnome Bastard, Abe Vigoda, the Easter Bunny...

The shit had hit the fan...

__________________

AlineaHeart

The doors to the courtroom flew open, revealing a woman seeking revenge for a previous framing...

__________________
Have Fun! :-)

gonzo

Comic, you ARE the man, lol. (And I want the number of your dealer...)

AlineaHeart

Hey! Me first, me first!

__________________
Have Fun! :-)

Comicsartist

The James Earl Jones bit was from Irrp. Gotta give credit where credit is due.

And I cannot divulge that information. If he runs out of the "Make me think up weird shit involving Gnomes and as many odd ass references as I can" smoke, well, there goes the story...

__________________

Comicsartist

As the vivacious red head strutted down the aisle Gnome Bastard's eyes popped from their sockets.

"Damn these eyes! Always popping out at the most inopportune moments! Damn these eyes!"

"I damn thee!"

"Who said that?" Myself, Gnome Bastard, Abe Vigoda, the prosecuting attorney, the judge, Jessica Rabbit, Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis, Frank Sinatra, Joe DiMaggio, Marilyn Monroe, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Graham Chapman, Michael Palin, and Not Yet Dead Fred asked in unison.

"It's me!" The voice cried. "Movie star Steve Martin!"

He pranced down the aisle with an arrow through his head and wearing nothing but a toga and a smile.

"Hi, Steve!" Myself, Gnome Bastard, Abe Vigoda, the prosecuting attorney, the judge, Jessica Rabbit, Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis, Frank Sinatra, Joe DiMaggio, Marilyn Monroe, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Graham Chapman, Michael Palin, and Not Yet Dead Fred said in unison.

"What are you doing here, Steve?" I asked.

"I arrive whenever I can quote one of my many classic movies!"

"Dude...that's so obscure I doubt anyone will know what it's from." I said.

"That's your problem." He replied. "You wrote it, you deal with it."

"I could always go back and delete it. They'd never know I snuck in a reference to the movie the Jerk."

"But you didn't delete it and now they know what movie the line's from."

"They still don't know what line I'm talking about."

"It's obvious it's 'I damn thee'. Come on. The gas station, guy comes in and his glasses keep falling off. It's only the catalyst for the entire film!"

"Well, they know now..."

"That's the great thing about writing in first person narrative form. Easy outs."

"And you know this, how?"

"I wrote a book. You might remember it. Let's Get Small."

Then Steve Martin shrank to the size of an atom. And, with a PIP, he was gone.

Paul Simon then appeared, sans Garfunkle, and said, "Maybe now I can beat his SNL hosting record."

With a collective sigh, Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis, Frank Sinatra, Joe DiMaggio, Marilyn Monroe, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Graham Chapman, Michael Palin, and Not Yet Dead Fred departed, leaving myself, Gnome Bastard, Abe Vigoda, the prosecuting attorney, the judge, and Jessica Rabbit to it once more.

"Help me get these damned eyes back into place, would you?" Gnome Bastard called out. "This IS painful, you know!"

I walked over and, using a pair of tongs that appeared out of thin air, prodded his eyes back into place.

"Ah," he said, sounding soothed, "I'm still gonna kill ya, you know."

"Well, if not you, those damned gnomes of Zurich and their fearless, merciless leader, Melvin."

"Where are you going to go with this?" He asked.

"No idea just yet. Think I'll sleep on it."

"Good idea."


(To be continued...)

__________________

gonzo