I rounded the corner and felt relieved I had made it this far.......altough the gnome was small, he had been holding firmly in both hands what looked like a long fishing rod........and all the time with that cheeky grin...........
....he stalked me like a tiger to his prey, and whipping his weapon in the air as if to remind me that I was the hunted, but turning back, the submariner is always the hunter. I turned back to face my stalker, his little gnome hat brimming with ....
A strange green liquid.......
...bird poop...in the form of a strange, green liquid.
He whipped the fishing rod back, and I charged. I knew that a body tackle was not an option, so I slid into him like a major league ball player stealing second base, slamming my heel into his little gnome-shorts belt buckle.
He grunted like a full puppy, flying out into the street, the rod spinning away from his clawed little hands.
But the belt buckle made a funny sound and as he hit the street, he started to transform.
Could the belt have been some sort of gnome utility belt, and my heel slam had activated it.....
I watched the transformation begin, as my hand slid around the dropped scissors...
(hey - I fight to win)
The gnome transformed into a tattooed, pierced, muscle bound Death Metal metal musician with thick long hair, and menacing mirror shades.......I said, "How are we having this today - some off the fringe, or short back and sides?"..........
The voice that came out of him was so unexpected that I turned to see if someone else had approached.
(where's NBC when we need him...)