2025-04-30 - Gnome or Mr. Nice Guy

Sooner or later everyone ends up at the Tarjay. Today, one of the people who has is a balding, middle-aged, just-slightly-pudgy man in actually a rather nicely-tailored navy suit, brown leather brogues, no tie, and a tidy baby-blue dress-shirt patterned with small, featureless rubber ducks in a cheerful yellow. There's a light blue, light green, and yellow polkadot pocket square flourishing from the appropriate pocket.

He has a Tarjay basket hung over one arm -- currently containing a few various foodstuffs, an iron, and a bottle of broadly-acceptable wine -- and is standing in the crafts aisle, contemplating the array of googly eyes dangling therein. Many sizes, several colours, varied manners of attachment. The expression is thoughtful -- his, not theirs -- and he reaches out for one that holds a variety of sizes, all with black pupils and sticky-back adhesive.

Herb has so far managed to pick his way through the Tarjay murmuring, "Awww that's definitely not going to stick to the ceiling. Boo." Something heavyish goes back on the shelf. There's a pause before something slides off the shelf again and he comes around the aisle toward the other person in the area, Zeph, with a garden gnome of 11" tall under one arm and eating from a package of opened Soft Batch cookies.

"Yoooou saw noth- oh my god loving the shirt. It's giving super approachable but cannot be bothered to take Wednesday too seriously."

"I see garden gnome," Zeph replies, glancing toward the voice and giving Herb a once-over, "and Soft Batch cookies. I may be bribed to be forgetful with the latter, though. And thank you. If we take Wednesday too seriously where can we go on Thursday? Funerals? No."

He drops the packet of googly eyes into his basket, considers a moment, and takes another as well, before looking back at the gnome. "That's going to fight being stuck to the ceiling too, you know. What did you reject?"

Herb pauses chewing the cookie, stuffs it in his mouth and offers the open package to Zeph. "'eal." a cookie true is struck, though not like he won't pay for the pack if he eats them all first. Breking off the cookie to nibble the bite he pauses and looks to the older gent, "Oh god no. It's getting too warm for funerals. Besides it's too late in the month to kill a good time. We did that early in the month when they shook our poor island like an out of season snow globe."

When Zeph asks about the project he smiles, charmed, "Gregory, deliveries. So nice of you to ask. I'll show you." He wanders around the other side of the craft area and finds some of the seasonal decor there. "I was hoping to put this little guy with both hands in the air suspended from the ceiling like Mission Impossible to startle my roomie because it's hilarious and he's cute. Also heavy for plaster. Jsut thought something less expected to help us get back into things."

He eyes the tiny plastic wiggly eyes in Zeph's hands and then the lawn decor and then Zeph. "yoooou thinking what I'm thinking?"

Zeph doesn't take the package, but rather leave it in Herb's hands while he slides the tray out, snags two of the cookies, and slides the tray back in. The iniital bribe has been accepted. No promises that further installments won't be required. Herb's description of the magic-quake gets a definite upward quirk at one corner of his mouth. "The mortality of a good time knows no season. But one a month seems plenty."

He's definitely intrigued enough to follow Herb to the other aisle, still holding the eye packets. "Which one's cute -- him," a gesture to the figure, "or your roomie? I can see either being a reason." A beat, and he adds, "Zephaniah. Generally Zeph. Decorative painting and prop fabrication."

A look from Herb to the wiggly eyes, the lawn decor, and back to Herb. "I'm thinking a few properly installed wall toggle eyes and some fishing line would probably solve your problem." Another little beat, "And that most of these eyes would look better googly, yes. Many things in the park would."

Herb shifts a look from Zeph to the tiny plastic eyes to Zeph, to the thing in his hand. There's a long pause before he asks "How many more are there?" He creeps back around the corner as if the little plastic peepers are going to scurry away.

He looks the gnome deep in the eyes and says "I promise to come back for you. Stay in the toy aisle like it's the 80's" as if Herb was there for those, but there are stories and tiktoks. A rustling of the cookies being tucked under his arm he grabs the whole peg of of googly eyes. He opens one and sticks two over the Gnome's eyes making it look instantly startled that he'd dare such a thing. "This is going to work amazing."

Handing half the stash to Zeph he says seriously, "Our mission is clear. Your name is amazing. Family name or parent with a flair for the dramatic?"

"Eyes or packets?" Zeph inquires, though clearly neither answer really matters, given Herb's grab of the whole peg's worth. In either case, he decides on, "Temporarily enough." The remark about the '80s gets a soft, amused snort from the older man, who was there for most of those, and even remembers a few of them.

Dropping the packets he'd already taken into his basket, he reaches out and takes the cookies from beneath Herb's arm, partly to give him more leeway to deal with the eyes and gnome, but mostly to replace the pair of bribe-cookies he's managed to eat over the time of the craft-section safari. The package ends up in his basket as well. The startled look on the be-eyed gnome gets a quick, quiet laugh out of him, and he accepts the stash he's handed, adding to the notes on the mission and his name, "Our movements are on camera." A very subtle tilt of his head toward the nearest one, nearly hidden but not entirely, if one knows what to look for and where it might be. He beckons with the packets of eyes, leading the way toward the tills. The rest of the lawn ornaments may be safe for the moment. The rest of the park, however...

With a small, wry grin, the younger trouble/merrymaker says "I have a way to get us around the park. I can exchange shortcuts for good tea." He looks a little proud of himself for this but also adds, "Let's pay for them first to not cause an international trade incident between the US and Gnomelandia." If only he know that was a legitimate concern this week.

Pausing he takes the gnome he's adorned pointing with a finger underarm again with a 'thank you' to Zeph for helping with the cookies. The self checkout goes quickly and honestly. "We need pics of the gnome pointing to things like he did it. Don't worry buddy, no one will be mad. Gnomes are blame exempt."

"Tea goes fantastically with cookies," Zeph allows, and seems inclined to pay for things as well, whether that be an essentially honest nature or just the awareness of about how many cameras are actually installed in this store. Who wants to get fired over Soft Batch and googly eyes? None of it's particularly expensive in any case.

The basket's traded for a bag on the far end of self-checkout, and at the mention of blame-exempt gnomes, idly offers, "They do get sent to sleep with the fishes fairly often, though. There's a lake in the Lake District that's known for arrays of them down at the bottom." He picks up the bag. "...I hear it's a pretty boring place to SCUBA, otherwise." A look at the gnome. "Not you, though. You're our new model." Herb gets a fleeting but sunny smile, and a gallant gesture doorward. "Shall we, Gregory? There's a whole world out there insufficiently watching."