"The enchanted garden gnomes?" Erick exclaimed, a puzzled
expression on his face. "But-- You aren't shrubbery!" he said, scratching his
head in a confused sort of way.
"Please don't hurt us!" squeaked the Scorchio
gnome. "It's not our fault... The forest is on a tight budget and they couldn't
afford a singing bush and two enchanted garden gnomes!"
"--So we have to be both!" added the Techo gnome.
"It isn't so bad... We get twice the income," he added.
Erick sighed sadly, leaning against a large,
flat rock. He turned wearily back to the two gnomes. "Come on guys... Please,
please, PLEASE just tell me where the can opener is!" he pleaded, prepared to
get down on his knees and begin groveling. The gnomes held a quick conference,
huddled together and whispering frantically, finally, they broke apart and the
Scorchio gnome nodded at Erick.
"Okay, mister Zafara, we'll tell you. But first,
you have to find the--" He glanced at his companion, who quickly whispered something
in his ear. "--All Powerful Wish Stick Of The Haunted Woods!"
Erick just blinked. "Ooookay... Er, what does
it look like?" he asked.
"Uh, Well it--" the Scorchio gnome started, wringing
his hat between his paws. The Techo gnome hissed something into his ear. The
Scorhio gnome smiled. "Ah, yes! It's red at one end, yellow at the other, and
it has little speckles all over!" The Techo, fighting back giggles, whispered
something else into the Scorchio's ear. The Scorchio nodded, "Oh yes! And you
can find it at the bottom of the very cold river, under the really, really big
and heavy rock."
Erick rolled his eyes skyward, slapping his forehead
with a paw. "Not another side quest! I'm beginning to think that somebody up
there doesn't like me..."
Even though he was miffed, Erick knew that the
only way that he would be reunited with his beloved can opener was by braving
the icy very cold river and by pitting his strength against the really, really
big and heavy rock. So, without wasting another minute, Erick whirled around
on his heel and began his long trek to the very cold river, where he would hopefully
be able to recover the all powerful wish stick.
Erick reached the very cold river quicker than
he thought he would, and, after he had jumped in, he realized that it really
wasn't very cold at all, and the so called really, really big and heavy rock
was no larger than a pebble. Erick heaved the really, really big and heavy rock
up above his head, and tossed it straight out of the river. After the dust had
settled, Erick glanced down into the dent left by the really, really big and
heavy rock and saw, to his relief, the all powerful wish stick. He grasped it
triumphantly in his paws and galloped back to the clearing where the garden
gnomes were waiting, occupying themselves by eating large quantities of streaky
Erick tossed the all-powerful wish stick at their
feet and stood, paws folded over his chest, waiting for his reward. He cleared
his throat and gestured at the stick.
"Oh wonderful Enchanted garden gnomes! I have
retrieved your all powerful wish stick, and am ready for my reward."
The gnomes blanched visibly. They went back into
a huddle and whispered frantically to each other. Erick caught snippets of their
"He actually got the stick!"
"How can that be? I just made the thing up!"
"Well we gotta give him something, or
else Donna will take away our enchantments and force us to become regular old
"Ugh. I'd hate to be one, just some creepy statue
sitting on someone's front lawn..."
"Exactly! So tell where his stupid can opener
"Like I know!"
"So... Just make something up, you seem pretty
good at it!"
The Techo gnome stepped forward, waving his long
fingers around in the air as though he was some sort of seer. Erick tapped his
paw impatiently against the ground.
"Mmm... I see the can opener! It is... At the
peak of the Mystical Can Mountain!"
Erick grinned. "Hey, that's great! I know exactly
where that is!" He smiled at the gnomes.
Erick squared his shoulders, threw out his chest
and strode (actually, it looked more like strutting) --towards the Mystical
Can Mountain. He reached it fairly quickly, since he was travelling quite fast
and it was nearby anyway. Erick stood at the foot on Can Mountain, spat in his
paws, rubbed the together and began to climb up the precarious mountain of tottering
After about an hour or so, Erick had reached
the summit of the Mystical Can Mountain. He grinned from ear to ear, ready to
recover his lost can opener. but when he looked around he found...
"Nothing!" Erick howled, tearing out small bits
of his bright red fur. "Those gnomes tricked me!" Erick panted and then froze,
he could hear the gnomes taunting him in his head... Giggling and laughing at
him. Erick shuddered and curled up into a small, furry ball on the top of the
mountain, and waited until he recovered from his exhaustion. When he did, he
stood back up and dusted himself off, a determined glint sparkling in his eyes.
He put on foot forward and put his paws on his hips.
"That's it!" Erick said, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm going to get my can opener if it kills me!" he smiled. "I'm going to do
what I should've done in the first place... I'm going to demand that the creepy
old Shoyru hermit helps me!"
Erick tore down Can Mountain, gaining speed and
momentum as he went, knocking cans loose with his paws. When he was about three-quarters
of the way down, he felt the mountain beginning to give way beneath his paws.
With a mighty crash, the entire mountain collapsed,
the cans shooting out in a mighty tidal wave. Erick was caught in the midst
of them, riding on a wave of cans that cut through the forest at a breakneck
pace. When Erick looked down, he saw the misleading garden gnomes running for
all they were worth, trying to escape the mighty multitude of cans. Erick grinned,
leaning back on a heap of canned mushy musho peas. He raised his head once more,
just to see where they were, and screamed.
The can tidal wave was meters away from the old
hermit's house. Erick felt a large pit welling up inside of his throat. He had
a nagging feeling that if he destroyed the hermit's house, he might not help
him find his can opener. Erick covered his eyes with his paws as him and all
of the cans bore down on the little hut. Any second now Erick was going to hear
the sound of splintering woods, smashing glass and crunching stone. He winced,
Nothing! Erick slowly opened his eyes and saw,
to his amazement, the Shoyru hermit holding up the entire tidal wave of cans,
including Erick, in mid air with his staff. Erick made a small, impressed noise
as the hermit gently lifted the cans to the ground, and then sent off, shooting
back to their original spot where they reassembled themselves as the mountain
of cans. Then, the hermit turned to Erick.
Erick smiled foolishly and chuckled, making small
gestures with his paws. "Why hello sir! I see we've met again. Now, can you
pleeeeeease tell me where my can opener is..."
Erick trailed off. The Shoyru was bristling all
over, and turning purple with rage. The Zafara gulped and held out his paws
"Heheh. s- sorry sir, I just..."
"IT'S ON YOUR HEAD, YOU IDIOT!" the Shoyru roared,
throwing his arms up in the air.
Erick blinked. "What?"
"Your head, stupid! It's been on your head all
this whole time!"
Erick furrowed his brow in concentration. "Wait,
could you be a bit more specific? Like, where on my head?"
The Shoyru swiped the can opener off of Erick's
head. "Here! Now go away and never come back!" He threw it on the ground and
turned on his heel, stomping back into is house and slamming the door behind
him. Erick picked up the can opener and held it in his paws, tears of happiness
running down his face. He held it up in the air, the sun glinting off it's golden
handle as he cried to the heavens:
"I'VE FOUND IT! Your hear that, evil garden gnomes?
I've got it!"
The old Zafara heaved a heavy sigh as he finished telling his story. He slipped
the can opener back into his cloak, smiling at Barry.
"And that's the story of how I saved Christmas,"
he said, smiling wistfully. Barry was confused.
"Christmas?" he sputtered. "But I thought you
were hiking!" He narrowed his eyes and put his claws on his hips, regarding
the old Zafara suspiciously. "Wait a minute, I don't even have a grampa! Who
The Zafara chuckled, getting up out of his chair.
He turned back to Barry.
"That's another story..."
The old Zafara hobbled slowly out of the room,
leaving a very puzzled Grarrl (and probably a few puzzled readers, too) --in
Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my group in drama class, hope
you like the written version of our skit!