The Gnome King and the First Thanksgiving
THE GNOME KING AND THE FIRST THANKSGIVING
Once upon a time in the Magical Land of Magicalena, there lived an angry little Gnome King. He was bitterly discontent because he had only eight subjects over which he ruled and because they were, all of them, the laziest creatures in all the land, sea, sky, and underground of Magicalena. They were so lazy that they wouldn't even feed themselves. The king spent all his time taking care of his subjects and never had any time to make machines - which was his true passion and for which he had prodigious talent. From the moment he awoke to the time he went to bed, the Gnome King rode his worm Squiggles through the tunnels and did errands. And everyone knows that feeling of having to run errands for someone else - it's a groaner. Furthermore, he was always grossed out by the way he perpetually smelled like worm slime. And on top of all that, he suffered from seasonal depression and because he lived underground, there was literally only one season and he had a serious Vitamin D deficiency.
And though you may be apt to start passing judgement onto the lazy gnome subjects, in their defense they only ever ate rocks, and rocks are about the most boring thing there is to eat - especially limestone because it's sour and makes you pucker your face. They had been eating limestone so long, and making that face for so long, that their features had actually grown closer together with a lot of wasted face real estate.
To need to eat less, they slept more - 22 hours a day - and so it was left to their king to do everything.
Day in and day out, the king searched for and then delivered rocks to his subjects, waking them up and forcing them to eat. It took a full two hours to feed each subject, so tired of eating limestone that they'd drift in and out of sleep and the king, with his great authority and paternal care, had to tickle their feet to keep them awake long enough to eat. They laughed the limestones right down their throats, but as soon as they were finished, they'd close their eyes and go right back to sleep. The king, after sweeping the rock crumbs out of their beds, would mount Squiggly his worm steed and go to the next gnome home to repeat the process. It took all day and finally, tired and dreading the next day, the Gnome King returned home to a light limestone meal before going to sleep.
This was life for the gnomes. It was all they had ever known, but it was about to change.
Now, tunnels cave-in from time to time, but one of the benefits to riding a worm around is that worms eat dirt, so cave-ins aren't too big of a deal.
But one day as the Gnome King was running from gnome hole to gnome hole on Squiggly, he encountered a cave-in that they couldn't get through. A rock was in the way. No big deal. "Easy harvest," thought the Gnome King. He grabbed his pickaxe out of his saddle bag and went up to it.
Somehow this rock was different though. It looked like a rock but, as he ran his fingers over its smooth surface, it wasn't like anything he had ever touched. It had a strange softness to it. He hit it with his pickaxe and the tool sank in easily. "That's peculiar," thought the Gnome King. He pulled at his tool and a large piece of the thing broke off. What was this weird, new rock that he had found? It certainly wasn't limestone. "I'll need to investigate further," he decided and took the piece with him as he mounted Squiggly and turned home.
First, he took out a knife and cut it into four pieces. It cut easily and the brown exterior gave way to a soft white that was wet to the touch. Curious. He knocked on it with his ear pressed against it, but the resulting dull thud told him nothing at all. Strange. He took the first piece and put it under a microscope; it had none of the sharp crystalline structure of any rock he had ever seen. He put the second piece through a stress test in his steam-powered vice and it smooshed into the shape of a plate. The third piece he cooked in a still and its liquid essence was clear and stung his nose when he breathed it in. There was one last test. The Gnome King took the final piece and took a bite. It was totally gross. He spat it out and, in his anger, threw the rest into the fire.
He sat down at his kitchen table and put his head in his hands, feeling defeated. He had wasted an entire day. His subjects hadn't been fed and the tunnel still needed to be cleared. There was a frown on every part of the poor Gnome King's face.
Suddenly, he began to smell something - an olfactory joy that he had never experienced before! What was it?
It was coming from the fireplace! It was the gross rocklike thing. He put on his welding gloves, pulled it out, and set it on the table. "How could this disgusting thing smell so delicious?"
"Fine!" he yelled at his nose. "I'll try it again."
The Gnome King broke a crispy piece off, closed his eyes, and put it in his mouth. He chewed it slow, then quickly as his excitement grew. He broke off another piece and his smile grew and grew until his ears popped with revelry. It was amazing! The fire had somehow transformed it.
The Gnome King had simultaneously discovered potatoes and the magic of cooking! Quickly, he gathered rope and some sacks, mounted Squiggly and raced back to the tunnel.
He worked through the night, harvesting not just potatoes, but also onions, carrots, parsnips, and garlic. A whole vegetable farm, a cornucopia of produce, had caved into his tunnels. Load after load he packed into sacks and dragged home. By the time he was done, the tunnels were cleared and his home was filled to bursting with food.
Then, using culinary science, the Gnome King turned those wholesome, raw ingredients into malodorous and savory, mouthwatering and scrumptious, meals of magnificence! The heady aromas wafted through the tunnels and woke the gnome subjects. One by one, the scent hooked them by their noses and dragged them out of bed, staggering with their weak, bed-sore legs to the door of the king.
They gathered all together for the first time ever, they smiled at each other for the first time ever, and they, for the first time ever, became a community as they ate together.
And they never ate limestone again.