COTTAGE STREET, USA — Local figuine and good-time hustler Tiny Dragon was found partying inside a fine leather tobacco pouch late yesterday on Hallows’ Eve Eve in the prestigious Cottage Street Cultural District of Easthmpton, Massachusetts. She has been missing for two years. Sources reveal the package was uncovered during a de-hording raid of a fourth floor sweatshop. The 1/72ish-scale-table-top-wargaming-figurine seemed to move with some difficulty. Her only comment to a flood of questions from reporters was “…wait, what?”
Longtime friend and celebrity holiday ornament Redbird rushed to the scene on a mud caked Harley-Davidson Softail. He wove through a barage of flashing cameras to speak with Tiny-D in a cordoned off corner of the drawing board. The plastic dragon was then transported from the scene by a small helicoptor emblazoned “DDD” in golden letters which is the Triple-D corproate logo.
“I did not even know she was missing” sighed a tiny porcelain doll’s head. “I was buried in a 107 year old Holyoke trash pile for 107 years. My cloth parts were rotted, gone well before the Great War and who knows where my arms and legs be? My head is beyond being bald being completely hollow and bearing a crater atop, for whatever phrenology is worth. What kept me going is that I’m Irish”
“What a happy Halloween it’s turning out to be!” clucked Redbird to reporters. When asked about a backlog of projects at Triple-D International since Tiny-D’s disappearance he replied “Well, I suppose the rumours are true. There are so many abandoned projects . . . I’d like to see us finish the Petit-Four-Food-Bank-Wagon in time for Small Animal Thanksgiving. It’s a deserving project and I think we can do it.”
EASTHAMPTON — Two figurines are claiming that Tiny Dragon is a fake. Roberta Busenberg and Man-Wizard announced that “Tiny so-called Dragon is not a regulation table-top miniature!” For three hours the two screamed into a breeze and flapped air quotes with their fingers while a group of local raptors circled the tower.
“I have been in fantasy-reality since 1977” said Busenberg, “and I have never seen this so-called dragon until last week.”
Man-Wizard added “She is not an authentic table-top miniature, and she is not a dragon. She may be a counterfeit gryphon. Her wings are not normal.”
“Forget normal” chucked Busenberg, “her entire assembly is ugly. Plus, she is not made of natural metal.” The man-wizard explained “She is made from a material we call plastic which burns to a foul cinder. She could not light tobacco, much less be a dragon. We are calling upon the entire gaming world from the top of this high, vapour enveloped tower.”
Busenberg and Man-Wizard are vintage table-top gaming figurines. They are cast of an imprecise lead alloy and sculpted in the imprecise and archaic scale of 1:72ish which allows one meager inch for a five to seven foot tall magic man. They live by the harsh conventions of table-top war games in which every New-English garden is a tableaux of combat and carnage.
“We are made of lead” explained Man-Wizard, “If hit very hard we may change the shape of our leaden skull, but more so we are very, very dense. We resist change at all costs and intend to win everything.”
Within hours Tiny D held a press conference on the disco mezzanine of her BMX training facility. “Sure, I know her,” she replied when asked about Busenberg.
“Do you know what’s lead poisoning? Busenberg’s entire brain is lead. Have you tried to call her? Half her reception is always blocked. Also, she’s got so much bismuth and tin that two hundred degrees will toast her marshmallow, and I’m talking Fahrenheit. She can’t make a muffin. Same goes for that son-of-a-bullet wizard.”
As Tiny D spoke, the celebrity-ornament Redbird was practicing in the background, riding in fast circles. He is featured in the new roadshow, Butterfly Wheels.
“If they want to believe I’m some kind of vinyl” continued Tiny D, “then they are welcome to come and roll a couple of dodecahedral dice in my front yard and find out what is hi-temperature silicone.
And hey, regarding if am I a gryphon, who says I’m 1:72ish scale? I am not 1:72ish scale. I am two millimeter scale which makes my beer can alone equal to eight feet tall. I stand twenty-two feet when you punch the numbers and I’m pretty sure that’s a dragon. Again, my yard is open if they want to find out.”
Tiny D was asked why her wings are not normal, as previously observed by Busenberg’s Man-Wizard. “Don’t think this is bad lipstick all over my face” she calmly replied, “because you would be sorry because it’s fire and blood.”
Redbird cruised up to the disco mezzanine. “Did you know,” he asked, “that miniature models make sapience possible? It takes a handful of worlds to really make it happen. I can’t explain it. I just work from magical show to magical show.”
“Yeah” added Tiny D, “I exactly just said what he’s telling you — fire and blood.”
Note: At press time Busenberg was pressing west on Route 141 towards Nashuannuck Pond and Cottage Street. Security for Butterfly Wheels has not been increased, not even a tiny bit.
MICRO-NEW ENGLAND — Sunshine Butterfly is the new freestyle road show starring local celebrity Redbird. Redbird twirled on a sparkling finger-bike made by Sundayduring the opening gala at Nashawannuk Pond. The show theme song Everybody’s Riding 1:18 Scale Finger-Bikes Because That’s What Size We Are was performed by Tree Angel and Klothespin Krewe.
“We’re really happy!” beamed Redbird taking a break, “It’s a great show and we’ll be taking it to the towns and roadside snack shacks of western New England. Come out and see us! Maybe have a french fry or a piece of popcorn.”
Sunshine Butterfly is partly sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts in a program to increase wilderness literacy through summer stock theatre. Many country mice and bluebirds have never seen a plastic-velveteen bird, neither have they read the word “Sunday” which is printed in plumped up Century Schoolbook across the frame of Redbird’s bike. Redbird himself is working for free. “I’m doing it for the small, illiterate, rural animals and also for the seasonal ornaments that want to get a little summertime work. The Christmas tree hasn’t raised wages in ten years and it’s tough for them.”
The show is produced by Triple-D Entertainment of Holyoke. “Triple-D means what it looks like,” said the owner in a phone interview with the Charlottean, “It’s an entertainment company.” Tiny D (Tiny Dragon) is of unknown origin, but has quickly established herself in the contentious world of seasonal show business. “I created this show because the summer is boring” she continued, “It’s stupid in the storage closet after Christmas. There’s strings of lights half of them burned out, and you have to crawl out anyway when you want any tiny tall-boy beers.” Describing the show she said “I just make stuff up and these unemployed holiday ornaments sing a little song and we got a show.”
When asked about the performance schedule for Sunshine Butterfly Ms. D replied “There ain’t no schedule. Either you’re lucky or you’re not, but I got most of the Saint James Avenue Holiday Tree ornaments signed on until Labor Day. It’s insane. So, if you’re lucky I think you’re gonna be pretty lucky.”
Western Massachusetts — A small frog dressed in a golden crown has been sighted skipping through local landfills swinging a tiny paper lantern at the end of an old bamboo skewer. “Light belongs to everyone who sees it. Every single person owns the chance to see it” she explained. “That’s pretty much it.”
HOLYOKE — A fancy ghost was attacked early this morning by a mob of miniature pumpkin gourd people. “I am completely unscathed” said Fancy Ghost “because I’m a hundred percent neutrinos. I wouldn’t have noticed they were hacking at me except you came over and told me. I was too busy fancy-dancing”.
It is unclear why the crowd became hostile. “Don’t like it!” howled one miniature-pumpkin-head. Another slowly swang a cocktail fork while glaring at the happy Ghost.
“These are gourd people, Gordians,” explained the popular Christmas ornament Redbird. “Fast footwork confuses and frightens them. They have only a thin layer of wax to protect against rot and fading and they rarely avoid the compost pile for more than one season. They live on what they can make at Halloween. No one hires them at Thanksgiving.”
“Showboat!” someone shouted, throwing a handful of wet seeds at, through the ghost.
“Fancy Ghosts have easy lives” continued Redbird, “They never rot and they get all the work they want from Halloween through Dicken’s Christmas.”
The ghost had resumed dancing. “I’m just trying to be seen!” it cheerfully said to the crowd, “That’s what ghosts do!”
“Would it kill it to look at someone else?” sighed Redbird, “It’s already a ghost.”
At press time the ghost was still dancing and the crowd still trying to punish it with toothpicks and pickle forks. Nothing is expected to change anytime soon.
MICROGNOMIA — Not for Vulcans this region where violet stems are lumber and money grows in tiny magical chamber pots at the ends of garden sprinkler rainbows — until now. T’ikun-tok is the new and first ambassador from the planet Vulcan to MicroGnomia. She is crawling across the region on her hands and knees in a goodwill tour, passing out gourmet fungi while passing the Vulcan Peace. Villagers at first confused have quickly learned to “make the Vee thingy” in hope of a chanterelle tossed their way.
“She rolled me a white truffle the size of my head” exclaimed Seamus O’Sark whose last name means “honorable beetle” in Vulcan. “I can curl my tongue too! But she dinna give me anything for it.”
The Vulcans long ago gave up their elving ways and can neither mine nor manufacture humor and cuteness. “It’s impossible to create successful ad campaigns for useless kitchen appliances and unnecessary medications without something cute and maybe funny” explained Spockton Hulala, a Vulcan trader now based in Carbon Creek, Pennsylvania. Vulcan is one of the Milky Way’s largest manufacturers of single cup coffee makers and repositioned pharmaceuticals, neither of which can be sold to Humans without the use of hypnosis. Industry experts have long warned that without a reliable source of buffoonium the Vulcan economy will collapse.
Buffoonium is an inexplicable element used in hypnotic constructions. It saturates the ground in all of MicroGnomia. “Every citizen of MicroGnomia is a miniature buffoonium mine” quiped Ambassador T’ikun-tok, “We want to be friends.”
“Is this a sincere overture to law abiding trade, or is it the start o’ an invasion?” shouted a small figure in a fancy jacket atop a tall, swaying tower of twigs.
O’Sark lightly scraped a tooth across his truffle then paused. “She’s an awfully big boned lass” he ventured as the Vulcan ambassador moved along down the tiny highway, “but look how she’s got the ears of an angel.”
IN THE WOODS — A farmhouse ghost was photographed approaching 0.001% famous pyrography instructor Theo Fadel at a local arts and crafts compound near Williamsburg, Massachusetts late Sunday afternoon. The friendly spirit has been known to staff for years and sighted on numerous occasions. “Her name is Fannie. She lives in the farmhouse” said a former staff member who would not give their name. “A few years ago I stayed overnight in the farmhouse by myself” said Fadel. “It’s a little spooky. I’m pretty sure I heard someone dialing a giant telephone in the basement. I definitely did not open the door.”
Fannie is not usually seen at the dining hall and it is unclear why she was approaching the artist and pointing her finger while holding a bible. “She’s probably lost, eh?” observed a random passing dog walker. “Maybe she’s trying to find that girls’ rock and roll camp down the road” added the random dog. The Institute for the Musical Arts is headquarted in the neighboring town of Goshen and offers comprehensive rock and roll finishing for young ladies . Co-founder June Millington was also a co-founder of the 1970’s rock band “Fanny.”
“The lady with a book in her hand?” said a chipmunk whose family has been living under the dining room porch for over 200 generations. “It’s not a bible she carries. It’s more of a notebook of who’s going to get it, or something like that. Her name is Fannie Clary”
Holyoke, MA — A sudden floor show occurred early this morning at the Middle-of-the-Night Club. At 3:30 AM a Mr. Surprise Poet took the mic for a two hour recitation. Midway through a fight broke out between two tortoiseshell cats but went largely unnoticed.
“It helps corral sublimity” the poet later said, “if you hold a flashlight under your chin.”
Magical Forest — Kwing Redbird has arrived just in time. the Charlottean captured this shot as he zoomed through the hibiscus trellis at 11:52 Monday night. On board with the Kwing are members of the clothespin social club Klothespin Krewe.
THE DINING ROOM, MA — Hecate “Queen Maud” of House of Tortie has occupied the main table dressed in a paper dragon suit in a bid for some Chinese New Year. In a written statement the blond tortie queen says “What? Lundi Gras is a second shelf holiday, ridiculous. After I set off some fireworks on the buffet and run around the room in this dragon bag, then you can have your clothespin Lundi Gras. Whatever, nobody knows where bald-ass Redbird is anyway. I love you.” Negotiations are ongoing.