The Lawn Gnome Incident

When I lived in North Carolina, I would always notice an abundance of lawn gnomes during my drive to work. It seemed as if everyone had one. Staring at you with those glassy eyes as they stood guard. Bearded, porcelain gods.

Something had to be done to stop them.

It started like any other night, with drinking and games of pool at our local watering hole. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary. Until, that is, someone showed up with some acid.

Acid in and of itself makes for interesting times as it is - but combine it with boredom, and you have a recipe for disaster.

Or one hell of an adventure.

After the bar had shut down, we were relegated to take our debauchery home with us. Unless, of course, someone came up with a better idea along the way. And that they did.

"Dude, I think that lawn gnome just flipped me off."

"Yeah, I fucking hate lawn gnomes."

"Tell me about it."

"We should steal them..."

We should steal them. It sure sounded like a good idea at the time.

So now we have a trunk full of nearly two dozen kidnapped lawn gnomes, and the sun is going to start coming up at any minute. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

Someone thinks they heard them talking in the trunk. While under normal circumstances this person would have been dubbed a moron, this wasn't one of those times.

We pulled over to try and listen to what they were saying in the back. One person confirmed they could hear them - plotting.

And that's when it happened.

"Dude, we pulled over right in front of their leader. Don't look, don't look."

We all looked.

Sure enough. There he was, in all his glory. The King Gnome. How did we know he was the King Gnome? He had a pitchfork.

He stared at us. Motionless. Judging us.

"I think he wants them back."

"He totally does. I can tell."

"We should just do it, this is getting weird."

It sounded like a good idea at the time.

Quietly, and very suspiciously - four strangers slinked out of the car that morning to drop off twenty-five lawn gnomes on a poor, unsuspecting persons front lawn.

When we finished, we couldn't help but stand back and revel at our creation.

Separate, they were just lawn furnishings. Decoration. But now. Together. They had purpose.

They were an army.

An army of lawn gnomes.

They were our minions. And while we had to go home and pass out, we would not forget about them. In fact, we promised we'd return to check up on them the following night.

But when we got there the next day, they were gone. Even the King Gnome had disappeared.

Some might say their owners came and picked them up the next morning, or that the owner of the house relocated them - or maybe that they were confiscated in some sort of investigation.

But I like to think they're still out there somewhere. United.

An army of gnomes. Marching as one.