Meet my little buddy or, actually he is Thom Gnome’s little buddy isn’t he? Well, let me introduce you to Brizbane the Conqueror from yesterday’s story, “Thom and the Goblins“. As I was writing this story I felt like Thom needed a friend to meet the goblins with because he I knew he would be a little frightened. It is easier to face certain things with a pal, don’t you think?
I said to my writing muse, who is Thom’s sidekick? I had this image of a sweet little mouse in my head. Wouldn’t that be a nice friend for a gnome? And my muse said back to me, “I am not a mouse! I am Brizbane, the Conqueror!” And I think I answered just like Thom, “Uh, okay. Nice to meet you Brizbane the Conqueror.”
Here is a little excerpt from yesterday’s podcast episode.
“Hello there, stranger.” A small mouse was looking up at him with bright eyes from the tall grass beside the way.
“Hello to you there, little one. Good to meet you.”
“Little one? Ha! I’d challenge you to a wrestling match but I don’t want to embarrass you. And, besides, what even are you? I’ve never seen anything like you before!”
“Oh, well, yeah. I’m a gnome.”
“A gnome, what’s a gnome?!”
“Uh, a gnome is what I am. I am a gnome. You’re a mouse. I’m a gnome.”
“I’m not a mouse! I’m Brizbane, the Conqueror.”
Thom tried hard not to laugh. “Uh, Okay! Hi, Brizbane the Conqueror. You look a lot like a mouse so please forgive me for thinking you were one. Tell me, what have you conquered?”
“I have conquered mountains of blueberries, pounds of tender sweet peas and mounds of barley. I have stolen honey from the bees and made a mockery of the gardens the humans grow along the big road, way over in the land of Don’t-Go-There.” Thom saw now that Brizbane the Conqueror, small mouse that he was, had his chin in the air and was flexing his, um, muscles.”
“Oh, so you fancy yourself some sort of outlaw, do you?”
“Yes, so keep an eye on that butterfly net, gnome.”
“Thanks, I will. Now, what did you say, the land of Don’t-Go-There. What’s that?”
“That’s where the humans are. People. With cats and dogs and mousetraps. Don’t Go There, that’s what my parents always say.”
“That sounds like good advice.”
“Yes, but those humans have really good peas. Such good peas.” Brizbane threw in a mouse version of a karate kick at the end of his sentence to prove that he could have any sweet peas he wanted.
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