[Shakespeare's Strumpet]

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You see, gnomes, much like humans, have a problem with people who are different. I cannot tell you the number of times I have seen a gnome discriminated against because of the length of his toenails or the color of his ear wax (mainly because I have not seen such things take place, but I have heard stories, and they are atrocious). Giblet was about as different as a gnome can get. Not only because of his name, but because he hee-d instead of haw-ed and stomped instead of clapped, and when most gnomes were moving to the pace of their own sneakers, he was wearing clogs. Everyone knows that gnomes do not wear clogs.

And, of course, there is always at least one gnome who is too perfect and is just the spitting image of a proper gnome. That gnome was Everybody. And, as luck would have it, Everybody wanted Something, and Everybody abhored Giblet. So of course, being an upstanding gnome, very clever, and with all of his limbs in the correct socket, Everybody did what any upstanding gnome would do – he decided to win Somebody while simultaneously humiliating Giblet.

It is a greatly revered gnome tradition that no gnome-girl is to be wed until two gnomes have battled over her honor, and the one who wins will be the one who brings her something that steals her heart. Quite literally. The heart isn’t vital to the anatomy of said creature, like humans, but really quite an ornamental organ, much like the appendix.

Going back to that afternoon on which Giblet walked Something home – though the sun was not quite as sunny as one might prefer, and the birds quite silent and no flowers blossoming, Giblet was perfectly convinced that this was the most beautiful day he had ever seen. Most beautiful because Something was there, and she lit up the forest. But Something looked quite dejected and her mouth was the picture of silence, so Giblet mimicked her and pretended to know what it was that they should both be so solemn about.

Finally, one they had reached Something’s tree trunk, she spoke.

“Oswald…”

“Yes, Something?”

“I’m afraid you cannot walk me home anymore.”

Giblet’s heart sunk a bit, sensing another rejection like unto the many he had suffered in the past. “Why? Did I step on the grass in a way that displeases you?”

“No, Giblet. You’re perfect. Except of course for the fact that you smell so poorly, and your name is so funny, and you are generally disliked and made fun of. Also, you’re quite a clumsy creature, and your tongue curls in a funny manner. Other than that, you’re perfect.”

“Well, then what is the problem?”

“I have decided I will wed Everybody, and he can easily find another gnome who likes me to challenge. But since you walk me home, he’s sure to choose you, and you can’t possibly win.”

Giblet hung his head in shame. It was true, he couldn’t win in a battle against such a perfect gnome. Unless, of course…

“Something, may I suggest something?”

“You know that suggesting is generally frowned upon.”

“What if I went to the land of the sock-goblins, captured their bravest warrior’s favorite sock, and brought it back to you. Would I win your hand then, and then would you let me compete?”

Something gasped – and it was a very appropriate gasp indeed. For sock-goblins are the gnomes sworn enemies, and very dread creatures indeed. Even humans have problems with them – they are the fiends that steal socks while you watch TV and your laundry sits safe and warm in your drier, for they only have one foot and therefore only need one. However, if two sock-goblins go stealing together, they will steal two different socks, and you will be left to hunt for the matches till the day when you give up and throw the mismatched pairs away. Upon that day, the sock-goblins will tire of their prizes and return them. They are devilish creatures.

And everyone knows that sock-goblins are the equivilant of terrible monsters to gnomes, because of their gaping mouths filled with deadly lint and square set face filled with an ignorant look.

“You will surely be captured and have your socks stolen and rent! Then all of gnomedom will know what you have done and will proceed to point and laugh.”

“Still,” said Giblet, striking a rather brave pose. “I must try.” And he set off toward the dread lands of the sock-goblins, tripping only once over an exposed root before beginning to trot in a very jaunty manner.