Boney Fingers and Stinkery Feet

Welcome all Gnome Performers! Performance artists abound in our small town here in Gnome Land. It seems every gnome who lives here has some kind of wild and crazy performance ability.

A photo of a garden gnome holding a lantern.

Some of us perform for others by tackling other larger-sized gnomes. Some of us perform for others by trying to beat the cuckoo egg-timer on top of the old city hall building.

And still …

Some of us perform for others by simply drooling.

And then there is Harley and his stinkery feet and Boney Fingers McBee, famous for her long boney fingers.

C’mon, when it comes to performin’, what are you gonna do with boney fingers and stinkery feet? When performin’ in this neck o’ the woods – you’s gotta be good and you’s gotta be poetic and you’s gotta be super hotly attractive. As in smokin’ hot attractive! Although, we don’t really have too many hotly attractive gnomes anywhere around here.

Most of us gnomes just make do – dealing with the day-to-day affairs of our town. Goin’ about our business. Workin’ … Toilin’ … Chowin’ down on a Moogblarfen sandwich here and there and performin’ for the gnome masses when we’s be feelin’ like it.

When a gnome decides to perform in the city hall – most of us stop what we’s be doin’ and take the time to enrich ourselves with some enlightenin’ entertainments. And, most of the time we are satisfied with the goodness of our gnome society.

This is not the case with Harley and Boney Fingers McBee.

A photo of a garden gnome swinging in a tree.

Harley has an overwhelmin’ urge to do performances – but we banned that a long time ago. Every time he would perform his act we had to hold our noses because of his stinkery feet, and most of us could not hold our breath for too long – it was too uncomfortable for us to endure.

Boney Fingers McBee also loves to perform but she does not do much but stand on the stage and act like a cat witch wigglin’ her fingers in the air – as if she’s castin’ a gay curse on the crowds. We banned her too because performin’ time does not mean nap time. Boney Fingers McBee suffers from a sleep disorder where she falls asleep as soon as she sits down anywhere; so she’s be standin’ up a lot.

For a while, both Harley and Boney Fingers McBee were outcasts in our town. Nobody talked to them – with long boney fingers a wigglin’ around and a pair of big gnome stinkery feet to knock you out – nobody wanted to be around them.

Last year, this all changed.

During the last “Eve of the Hallowed Coleslaw” me’s walked into the Tip Top Tavern to celebrate the annual browning of the cabbage patch. The crowds were merry. Every gnome was feelin’ a little fairy. And me’s be feelin’ a tad hairy.

Anyways, me’s remember walkin’ into the tavern and made me’s way through the runtly crowd to fetch a malt liquor. While waitin’ for the frothy goodness, me’s be a noticin’ Harley and Boney Fingers McBee sittin’ at a corner table together – playin’ cards. They were in a dark musky corner of the tavern where nobody congregates. They be sittin’ at a small table, barely lit by the kerosene lamp above.

Me’s was surprised!

Ol’ Boney Fingers McBee was sittin’ and wasn’t fallin’ asleep! She was sittin’ down and no sleepin’! That’s a miracle. And Harley seemed fixated on the boney-ness of her fingers. He could not take his eyes off of her fingers. He almost seemed to be droolin’ over her sleek creepy tentacles.

Me’s remember thinkin’ those two must be in love or somethin’. Perhaps our very own cupid gnome shot his arrow and hit someone’s rump – me’s be a guessin’.

Me’s decided to let them be and have a good runtly time; and since the brownin’ of the cabbage patch only comes once a year, me’s decided to have a malt liquor, and another, and another.

The next day, me’s be seein’ Harley gayly frolickin’ in the squishy compost and me’s approached him to find out what was goin’ on in the tavern yesterday with him and Boney Fingers McBee. While speakin’ to him, me’s could see the longin’ in his murky eyes. He seemed almost charmed.

He said, “I really adore that McBee chick. Come to find out, my stinkery feets keep her awake when she has a sit – now she can knit and embroider with the best of the elder gnomes. And as for her boney fingers – well, let’s just say my large pimple on my left buttock got a good scratchin’ last night.”

Then me’s tells Harley, “Oh, so you two be made for each other!”.

Over-N-Out. – Floyd

Published by Floyd Kelly

I'm a simple man living in a rural mountainous area.

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