Bob and I arrived at the Big Clearing with a dozen big folks and twice that of small ones ready to put up a fight against those tiny Santas that had dared to try and take over their homes. There were all sorts of trees, a forest troll and two ogres, along with angry rabbits, squirrels, fairies, a couple of battle-hardened raccoons that had gone to Hell and back (no kidding, there’s a book about it somewhere) and of course, my gracious self and Bob.

The place was getting cramped as I made my way to Clarissa’s side, wondering what she had been doing these past couple of hours. My question was answered almost immediately and with a big BANG. She had made explosive bubbles to be thrown on the enemy, soporific potions in tiny flasks that could be carried by fairies, and of course set up all kinds of gnome traps throughout the forest. She was still grumpy about the lack of sleep, and willing to get this over with as fast and, if possible, in a definitive manner.

We all wanted to get back to our usual or unusual activities. This situation was getting on everyone’s nerves, even those without nerves to get on. Clarissa clapped her hands for silence and, once satisfied that she had at least half the crowd’s attention, started explaining her battle plan. When she was done, she explained everything a second time to be certain that everything was understood. Then, we waited.

The sun was graciously setting on the horizon when the first CRASH announced the start of what would be later known as the Battle of the Garden Gnomes. A garden troll had walked straight into a nearby trap, getting himself crunched by a big dead branch. “All right guys, let’s go! For the Forest! FOR A GOOD NIGHT’S REST!!!!” was Clarissa’s call to arms. Oh dear, that would be another long night.

In the utter chaos that the Clearing was almost immediately plunged in, I zigged and zagged and landed on the back of a very determined gnome holding a big spoon and a small butter knife. All claws out, hissing and meowing like crazy, I soon got lost in my equivalent of battle-frenzy. I saw bubbles explode, sending toothpicks all around, I heard “outches” and “oofs” and even an “argh”, all drowned in loud fox snores and ent stomping.

Whatshisname was struggling with three gnomes climbing on his roots, a troll shooting mushroom at his face and a pixie trying to set him on fire. A very brave, very stupid and very small fairy charged in, throwing an explosive bubble and dropping her soporific flask, successfully knocking everyone, Ent included, out. That sounded the end of the hour long Battle, the gnomes eventually surrendering to the insanity of the Forest dwellers and the angry witch yelling battle-cries in a long dead language known as Aramean.

“And don’t you dare try THAT again, you undergrown half-witted failed attempts at humanoids!” Clarissa was really tired, her insults were losing their usual bite by the second. Now that the gnomes were backing out and returning to their gardens, the Ents declared us Friends of the Forest and invited us to a grand feast, which we very politely declined. Ents feast on pure, clear water, which is very good for them but not filling enough for a witch. And that particular one needed a good hearty meal.

Whatshisname and his new fairy friend offered to bring us back to the cottage, a proposition we happily accepted as it meant no more walking. Clarissa, completely exhausted, fell asleep on the branch she was on after a couple of minutes. A light, content snore accompanied us the rest of the way, cut only by a few mumbles about food, stupid gnomes and a glorious “boobbity, babbity, GET OFF MY LAWN!” that caused all of us to jump. 

In the end, we had won the battle, and that was all that really mattered.