Yes, our baby gnome Steve has been kidnapped! His giant woman protector was a fool and left her bag out of her sight for a second, and *kablammo*! Now you can buy all my ID cards on the street! Tragedy! I can get a new drivers license and credit card, but how many runaway gnomes find themselves at your door?! Let us take a moment of silence (cue Amazing Grace)OBITUARY
Steve Gerald Wachowski was born in Queens, New York, to a wealthy Jewish gnome family. His father, Don Vincenzo, was a prominent rabbi but was murdered by the gnome wing of the Red Brigade for a rum-smuggling venture gone bad, and because he housed lepers, whom Steve exclusively interacted with during his childhood. Being the only male child, Mama Wachowski infantilized Steve all his life, and it was only recently that he escaped her overbearing influence to seek a giant woman protector whom his mother could not intimidate. Mama Wachowski and her evil spoon-bearing gnome housewife brigade never found Steve, as his little legs carried him all the way north into the protective bosom of one Ms. Amy. Steve lived in Ms. Amy's purse, which reminded him of a womb, and she relocated with him to Italy to further escape Mama Wachowski's far-reaching eye. There they lived happily and travelled extensively, Steve even surviving the wall crash that took Ms. Amy's tooth. Then on April 26, 2008, Steve was slumbering happily in Ms. Amy's fabulous red purse when some helpful scumbag relieved her of her belongings, without her knowledge. Steve is survived by his grieving giant woman protector, his evil mamma, Quan, and everyone who knew and loved him. Arrivederci, little fella!
7 comments:
oh amy! are you alright? steve will be missed!
I'm ok, I wasn't robbed at gunpoint or anything, but emotionally, there's a huge dumptruck-sized hole where Steve was ripped from me! I got teary, I sat in bed eating crackers... I only hope the evil kidnappers mail him back to me- my address is all over my id and stuff that they have!
I'm sure he has already escaped the kidnappers, and thus the RIP is probably premature.
I'm sure as soon as you part Italy, his gnoming-radar will set him on a journey back to Toronto A la Milo and Otis or Homeward Bound. His love for you would make him swim the widest oceans (which he will have to do) kicking furiously with his little gnome legs and all the while clutching his little white flowers.
*sniff* he shall never let go of his little white flowers! He needs them to tickle the throats of whatever fish swallow him! Godspeed, little guy *salutes*
Oh dio! Amy I know just how you feel. When I killed Aldolfo, I sat in bed too, but I wasn't eating crackers. HOWEVER!!! I am not ready to give up. I think that Steve is still out there. I know that on "CSI: Without a Trace" they don't even start to worry for 48 hours. And then there is usually 5 days before the victim is knocked off. So we have time. I am starting a "Lit'l Stevie Foundation" to raise money for any ransom offers or to pay the detectives that OJ Simpsom and Robert Blake hired to find the "real" killers. Or maybe, like in "Slience of the Lamb', the kidnappers are trying to fatten him up or giving Human Growth Hormone so that he can be big like Barry Bonds. Don't give up hope for Lit'l Stevie....give money. Dial now! Volunteers are standing by. No contribution is too small but bigger is better (no offense to Steve).
And to the weepy Ms. Amy... hmmmm...we have just a few questions for you. Please do not plan to leave the country.
Daniel, you have just been promoted to god in the updated Holy Trinity, along with Gary, which leaves your former holy spirit position vacant. I will personally donate $10 000...eventually...so Lit'l Stevie isn't down a well being fattened up and must rub the lotion on his skin or else he'll get the hose again- eeek, can you imagine someone trying to make Steve big enough so he could wear his skin?! Would Robert Blake or OJ like to be the faces of the Lit'l Stevie Foundation? THAT would encourage donations, no, their weepy faces?
Would I be deported back to Italy if I evade questioning? Oh my, if I must!
Oh, I'm now imagining a split screen montage of Daniel and me crying in our beds, me eating crackers, both rolling around screaming WHYYYYY???!!?!!? and generally being angsty in the most dramamtic way possible, with some kind of music playing over, My Heart Will Go On or something more uppity.
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