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In a cute little garden, in a cute little town stood a cute little house with a cute little shed. In the corner of the garden, up against the shed stood a cute little pile of rubbish and in a burrow underneath lived a cute little girl.
Well, sort of cute, if you don’t count the cute, not so little, razor-sharp fangs. Or her cute stare that could turn cold enough to freeze a grown-up where they stood at 50 feet (or 15 meters, which is the same).
Her name is Gunk. You can ask her about it yourself when you see her. When I (casually) inquired where her lovely name comes from, she bit me. I still have the scars. They tingle or itch whenever the weather is about to change. Really handy if you want to know if it is going to rain when you leave the house.
Of course, normally when someone says “girl” they mean a small female child. Gunk may be small and female, but she is by no means a child. The only reason I call her that is because she refuses to be called a woman. Apparently that would stop her from doing unwomanly things, like bite friendly neighbors when they are making polite conversation. Or stealing things from around town.
Gunk wants me to tell you it isn’t stealing: “If I was a woman it would be stealing. I am not, so it isn’t”. It still is, really. But I could see she was about to turn her ice-cold stare on me, so I quickly changed the subject to the new hat she was wearing. Which she had definitely not stolen from a doll in the nearby playschool. Woman or not, she still insists on me calling her “mylady” whenever she’s dressed up nice.
I think that Gunk must like me. She enjoys popping in for tea and telling me how she is doing (and what she has done). Most of it is harmless and hardly anyone ever gets really hurt. The reason I think she must like me is that none of the things she tells me about have happened to me. So whenever she comes in, scaring off my cat, I make her some tea and listen to the stories she tells.
This particular morning, Gunk was wondering what she would do today. It was lovely weather, with a clear blue sky. There were all sorts of adventures she could have out and about. There were neighbors with their cats, dogs, chickens, racing pigeons, pond-fish and exotic birds perched in their aviaries. All of whom she liked to play with.
Or she could go to the shops and stores in town and have fun there. Either toying with the customers and store clerks or messing with the goods they were trading.
The weather was nice and as it was not about to change (none of my scars were itching). She could go out to the woods and pastures or as far as the big city to wreak havoc, I mean, to have playful fun there.
This morning, for whatever reason, Gunk did not feel like going out. Instead, she decided she would like to stay at home and fashion herself something nice to wear. A cape, or a crown or some bracelets. Something to make a definitely-not-a-woman feel pretty.
At this point, it might be sensible to tell you what Gunk usually wears: “Whatever she guttering well pleases!” (Her words, not mine).
I’ve seen her dressed in anything from a bucket to a miniature tuxedo. I know where she got the bucket (it was definitely not stolen from the old couple across the road at number 18). The tuxedo, I have no idea…
But she doesn’t stop there. More than once I’ve been woken up early in the morning because she decided to dress in the barks of a dog or the crows of a rooster. For new-years eve she decided to dress in the sparks from fireworks. I guess that was my fault, for giving her the fireworks. She’s dressed in earth, wind, and fire, a car alarm, Rock & Roll (don’t ask me to explain, it would take too many words and not make enough sense anyway).
On my birthday, she wore one of the solar-eclipses from 1935 that she was saving for a special occasion.
Today she felt like making something to wear with one of her other sets of “clothes”. I think it was the shimmer from broken glass or the fizz from a fizzy drink. I can’t always tell by myself and Gunk doesn’t often want to tell me. She just looks at me and rolls her eyes as if I’m stupid for asking.
Anyway… Gunk walked out of the lair from under her pile of rubble at the back of the garden against the shed and looked around. She knew what she wanted but not exactly where to get it from. What she wanted was…
- Something wavy
- Not too bright and not too brittle
- A bit stretchy but not too much
- Maybe a little fizzy or fuzzy but not fezzy. Fezzy was for little boys.
- She thought she might need it to be slightly blue and mostly invisible.
- Equal parts infuriating and frustrating, especially because today was a Wednesday
So she walked around, sniffed the air, kicked at some flowers and looked underneath the hedge before heading in the direction of my house. It took her a while to find what she wanted, but she did.
She gathered all of it together, combed it into neat strands and gently placed it on the ground in front of her. Then she jumped up and down on it, all the while glaring at it with a look that clearly said: “You better turn into a cape, or else!”
The material she had gathered never stood a chance and became a beautiful cape, with a nice hood, as quickly as it could manage.
Things may have gone slightly different but this is what Gunk told me when she came into my house to show off her new cape.
Now, I hadn’t been having the best day up to that point. The day had started normal enough but soon it all started falling apart. When making breakfast, the toaster would not toast and the water boiler would not boil. I had to eat lukewarm bread and boil water on the stove.
Then, sitting behind my writing desk, the computer wouldn’t go. I tried all the tricks I had seen the nice man in the blue van do when he installed it. I plugged it out and in again, flipped the “on” switch with my left hand (rather than my right), hit it a couple of times and swore at it with a Polish accent. I don’t know what finally did it, but the computer turned on. I’ll ask the nice man with the blue van when I see him.
Next, sitting behind my computer, the internet wouldn’t go. Nothing loaded. All I got was slowly rotating blobs, “Please wait, loading…” messages and “Ooops, something has gone wrong” pages. It took me 45 minutes to look up what could be wrong and all I found was that using a network cable might work better than my current wifi.
At this point, there was a hiss from downstairs and a loud “bang” as the cat-flap smacked against the kitchen door. This was the usual way of me finding out that the cat had raced out because Gunk had come in. After the first time they met, the fur on the cat’s tail had grown back but never in its original color. I went downstairs to put some water on the stove to make Gunk and me some tea.
As I was rummaging for cups Gunk told me all about her new garment. She kept twirling it about her and looking at it proudly. When she was done telling her story, she sipped some tea. I told her that it looked stunning on mylady. I also asked her what the stuff was actually made of. “Ugh” she said, rolling her eyes, “you know…That invisible blue stuff that fizzy-fuzzes around your house.” Apparently the not-too-intelligent look on my face prompted her to elaborate further. She pointed at my electric kettle and said:
“The stuff that makes that go. E-leg-tit-ricy”.
-“Electricity?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Like I said” Gunk replied,”eel-lick-tricy. I never really managed to get it to stick together before. But today I added some of that other stuff you’ve got hanging around in here”
-“Air?” I ventured
Gunk looked at me, crossing her arm in front of her. “Noooo.” She didn’t say “Stupid” but I think it was implied. “That stuff that you never really use but when you do it always gets you in a huff and you puff and shout and say mean words”. Something began to dawn on me.
-“Gunk,” I asked as casually as I could, “where am I usually when I am swearing at this stuff?”
“In your little room with your desk with the weird flat light on it!”
-”Ah,” I said, “you mean my wifi.”
“Whatever you call it.” Gunk said. She was no longer really paying attention to me or her tea.
Instead, she was twirling about in her cape again.
Maybe I should talk to the nice man in the blue van about connecting my computer to the internet with a cable. I was pretty sure that Gunk, now she had figured out how, would be making that cape of hers from my wifi more often…