“The Great War” Part 3

Now before the Gnomes had gone a few steps towards their unknown destination, they run into this scrawny Human kid who wore huge bifocals. 

The kid identified himself as Hewitt Putter, who happened to be on Summer Vacation from some Magicky School in lands far away. 

“I’m gonna be your guide, Dudes,” he said squintin’ at them. 

The Gnomes were relieved to hear that they had acquired a guide. 

“Uh, could you Dudes step a closer so I can see you?” 

Hewitt Putter squinted and pawed at them a little bit and then declared excitedly: “Are you Boys midgets or Leprechauns?” 

*Noze! We ain’t no midgets or Leprykaunz! We is Gnomes! ” cried Buggerz. 

“Gee… That’s too bad. I once summoned a Leprechaun in a magickal exercise for my friends in the “Gripthedoor Boys Club”… It was a big hit,” Putter said wistfully. 

The poor Gnomes didn’t have a clue about what this kid was talkin’ about as they weren’t big readers. 

Picking up a red and white stick Putter slowly tapped his cane and led them over a few hills till they reached the river bank. 

Thar he introduced them to two corncob pipe smokin fellars name Chuckleberries and Jam. 

“Wahl… Wahl… Lookee here Jam… Looks like we’re gonna be totin’ a couple of “Leprykaunz” downriver on our raft.” said Chuckleberries to his dark-skinned friend. 

“These Dudes aren’t Leprechauns… These are Gnomes,” said Putter. 

“Gnomes?! These don’t look like the little fokkerz my Aunt Pissy puts in her garden to chase bugs away,” 

“Those are garden variety Gnomes. We’re the real deal Mistur Chuck,” sed Buggerz.

“Wahl, shee-itt… Slap my head and call me silly then!”

“Here’s the money as promised,” said Hewitt tossing a small pouch to Chuckleberry. 

Chuck snatched at the bag out of the air quicker than a snake. 

“Hey, Jam we’re gonna be able to score a couple of bags of that really good shit from that Rastafarian dealer on our ways back after all.” 

“#$&?! Master Chuck!  We’re are gonna be @#%$! in Big Trouble with $#*@! Aunt Pissy” moaned Jam. 

“Naww. Don’t worry about her. It’s Tad Boyer we gotta worry about since we’s “borrowin” his raft. Fetchy the little fokkerz.”

Jam grabbed the two Gnomes and unceremoniously tossed each one like a sack of taters to Huck who pitched them into the inflatable raft. 

“Now remember thars no smokin’ or knife fightin’ during our trip downriver. Uh…Mistur Putter do yew needs assistance?” 

No, Huck. I’m a wizard in training with a highly sensitive sense of direction.”

And with those words, Hewitt took a few steps off the dock and went ass over teakettle into the river. 

Chuckleberry bit his lips to suppress his mirth and said “Jam, go fetch Mistur Putter out of the river before the gators eat him. We gotta get back by nightfall.” 

*

To be continued…