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.”
WILLIAMSBURG — A stunning horde of fine woodcraft was discovered over the weekend. It was well concealed within dusty old chunks of poplar wood at Snow Farm, a craft school nestled in the Ancient Western Massachusetts hill towns. Four fine woodworkers made the discovery, some of whom did not know they were woodworkers until Sunday.
“I’m so happy” remarked one artisan. “It’s a real treasure” said pyrography and woodcrafting guide Theo Fadel, “The Black Forest is so much larger than most people realize. Pockets of it regularly appear at places like Snow Farm where people are hunting for lovely artifacts. The fairy undergrowth often tosses up a lovely horde like this marvelous set of bowls from within its roots . . . just like that.”
The discovery was coincidental to Turn and Burn, Theo Fadel’s introductory workshop on woodturning and pyrography conducted the same weekend at Snow Farm.
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”