With the biggers around all the time, gnome life was shit. Elmo lost it first. He threw himself into the cement pond and sunk to the bottom where the heavily chlorinated water began peeling off his paint.
His peers stood around the edge of the unnatural blueness.
Big Edna broke the silence.
“We needs a game to play.”
“Unless we wants to wind up like Elmo.”
“A pissing contest?”
When the biggers awoke the next morning, there was gnome in the swimming pool and about a hundred circles of dead grass in the lawn.