Stupid Gnomes

Written in the forgotten key of A minor miner

The stupid gnome(s)

Now, imagine this: The Stupid Gnomes lived in a palace, what we might call ‘a mine shaft’. This palace was deep, deep, deep underground in the Torpedo mountains where gold and brass are mined; these are, in turn, used to supply the world’s economies and marching bands.

The gnomes themselves had a brass band, one that they were very fond of, but their instruments were made out of the gold, not the brass. This though was not because, as you may think, that the gnomes were stupid, though they were; it was from reasons of necessity: gold is not so hard a material as brass and, so, is less resonant, hence quieter. And, when the gnomes lived underground all the time, a brass instrument would have just about deafened the audience – let alone the player; not that there is usually a very big audience for brass bands, and those there are tend to be geriatric and short of hearing anyway.

Anyway; these instruments were muffled and they were out of tune as gold is easily bent, but they were nevertheless very valuable indeed and so the Stupid gnomes had need of protecting them when not in use.

Ghyvuzahug, the king of the Stupid gnomes, declared that Stupid children should be left in charge of the complete protection of these tools of music, as the Stupid adults had to mine all day.

This, as it turns out, was not too bad a plan, for Stupid gnome children are generally brighter in ken than their older relations – something scientists have attributed to the dulling effects of too many years of stew and the wielding of a pick-axe.

So ten children per week were employed – their pay being a smaller portion of stew than that they were usually coerced to eat – in the fortification of the band’s equipment cupboard.

Over four thousand Stupid children had undertaken the task since this practice began and the list would soon be going round again. But of the eleven children left one would have to miss a go, but who?

Ghyvuzahug was old and his successor, his clammy mine-shaft heir, was amongst the eleven. He was determined not to allow his son to experience the indignity of missing out on what all Stupid children do. So this Stupid king, in direct contravention of whatever Stupid laws and freedoms are embraced by Stupid gnomes, decreed that his son, Noihywont-Iyatew, should lead the final ten in their guardship duties – as a state event and public fair, of course.

Well the big day came and all the sketchers from the underground papers came to do their charcoal depictions of that particular coal-black event; the Stupid gnomes could never see anything. Since fires were illegal in case of gas leakage the penultimate children passed on the porch which the lucky last ten Stupid children were to stand on for the next seven-day; not without much shoving, stumbling, and stubbing of toes. And the festivities began.

Buggrit-I:wannago, the gnome child who had missed out from among all Stupid gnomedom, lurked bitterly in where shadows would be if there were any light to cast such, and braced himself for his Stupid revenge. He snuck straight past the eyes of the guards and got into the cupboard wherein lay the trumpet, three horns and a gold-block (an ‘F’). Young Buggrit poured quince jam into the hollow block and bound the wind-instruments round with spaghetti – thus rendering them forever inoperable, for of course – not being able to see – the musicians would feel the jam and take it to be mud, thus meaning that the slimy trumpet and horns were covered in worms!

The musicians vowed never to play again and the cupboard was locked and forgotten about.

There never was any need to re-circulate the ranks of Stupid children guarding the machines of musical cacophony and ‘Johnny Briggs’ was nevermore to be heard quietly emanating from a group of five Stupid gnomes with tired arms. All in all one supposes that Buggrit-I:wannago did the gnomes a great service for the mining work could be got on with much more efficiently without that infernal racket. And children were never again removed from school lessons to be made to stand in the dark, (when they could be sitting).

Stupid gnomes.