I found my old Gnomepocalypse pics this morning, and thought I might as well resurrect the event, which is part of what was lost when my site got hacked. I had an incredible amount of fun doing this–it was back in the old house, which was good for some things, and the Princess still remembers me chortling with glee as I staged each shot.
A Box has arrived! It is strangely heavy. What doom lies within?
“Mum, what did you do this time?”
“Oh, you’ll see. YOU’LL SEE.”
What is it? Is it animal, vegetable, mineral? It reeks of rotting concrete. And fear.
“It looks like a mummy.”
“Oooooh, close. But more rotting and less love story.”
“Not in this box.”
It claws forth, hungry and slow, one tiny bubble pop at a time.
“MUM JUST OPEN IT.”
“Why, when I can make you suffer with anticipation?”
Investigating the strange new beast. It is slow, but it has teeth. Not particularly dangerous, as long as you keep moving.
“A ZOMBIE gnome.“
“Mum, you’re weird.”
“THIS GARDEN IS SMALL. I REQUIRE MORE SPACE. AND MORE BRAAAAAAINS.”
“What are you doing?”
“Documenting our new arrival for posterity. What does it look like?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
I suspect this was the point at which the Princess began to feel faintly alarmed at the amount of fun I was having.
“WHAT IS THIS? IT BURNSSSS USSSS, PRESHUSSSSSS. NASTY ELVES MUST HAVE MADE IT.”
“Please stop with the Gollum voice.”
“No can do, preshussssss.”
“NOW WE MAY SEE OUR PREY BETTER, YES. AND THE SMELL, IT HIDES US. MINTY FRESH!”
“You know your face squinches up when you do that?”
“You can’t do Gollum with a straight face. Ask Andy Serkis.”
“…oh yeah, when I meet him, I TOTALLY WILL.”
“NATURE FULFILLSSSSS US, PRESHUSSSSS. BEAUTY MAKESSSSS US HUNGRY.”
“It’s a concrete zombie gnome. What does it eat?”
“I don’t want to get close enough to find out.”
“And yet you’re taking pictures.”
“Shut up, kid.”
“SINGLE ZOMBIE GNOME SEEKS BRAAAAAAINS. LOVES STALKING PREY, CLIMBING TREES, AND PINA COLADASSSSSSS. AVOIDS RAIN–IT ROTS US QUICKER, YESSSS.”
“You’re not going to put the gnome in a TREE, Mum.”
“OH YES I AM. Look, it’s like a profile pic for online dating!”
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re online dating.”
“No, the gnome is.”
“PEEKABOO! I SEE YOUR BRAAAAAAINSSSSSS!”
“Shhh, the gnome is HIDING.”
“Mum, this is weird.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You’ve lived with me for HOW LONG?”
“OOOOH, PAINT ME LAHK ONE OF YOUR FRENCH ZOMBIES.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“*laughing too hard to speak*”
“Mum? Can you breathe?”
“Oh God, my mother’s been killed by a concrete zombie gnome…”
All of a sudden, Phil had the odd feeling that he was being…watched.
“What am I going to tell my friends?”
“That this is what happens when you feed a garden gnome after midnight.”
“What does that mean?”
“…God, I feel old.”
“Okay, that’s creepy.”
“Don’t look away. When you look away, they move.”
Good times, man. Good times. Beware the gnomepocalypse…
You can find your own zombie garden gnome here. Go on, thank me later…