Lawn Gnomes Are Evil

Noone Nobody, or Nyl, as her only friend knew her, was not the type of woman to believe in superstitions. Not like ghosts or demons—she believed in those—but outlandish things like world peace, honest government, or mentally stable puppet enthusiasts. See, unlike most of you entirely unreasonable people, Nyl needed complete, undeniable, concrete evidence to believe in ridiculous fantasies.

“And that’s why I think you had to be the one who dug up the flowers, Gina,” Nyl said matter-of-factly, scooping one last serving of chicken and rice into her near-empty bowl. “I know you said you didn’t but what kinda sense does it make for someone to break into the yard just to dig up some half-dead flowers?”

Gina only looked up from her food briefly, but her annoyance was clear enough without another word. It’s not that arguing with Nyl was a total waste of time, but anyone who knew Nyl - Gina being the only one - knew that their time would be better spent on more important things like licking the last bit of gravy-covered rice from her bowl.

“Whatever,” Nyl flopped onto the couch and threw her short, stubby legs onto the fuzzy gray ottoman. “All I know is, someone put the hole in the fence three months ago, and someone killed the grass near the fountain I got you, and -” Nyl took a bite of rice, “ And someone dug up the flowers. Me and you are the only ones who live here, and all I’m saying is that the only thing you’ve really done since you moved in has been eating my food and destroying my shit.”

To this, Gina let out an exasperated sigh from deep within her soul, shook a few pieces of fallen rice from her golden locks, and disappeared into the bedroom for a much-needed aftermeal nap. Again, there were much better things to do.

Nyl, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing better to do in life than to prove that it was Gina trashing the yard and not her neighbors as Gina initially indicated. Noone Nobody had been living next to Tom and Shirley for more than a decade without issue. Aside from having to look at a few ugly lawn ornaments, Nyl never really had a problem with them, and they largely kept to themselves. The idea that after 13 years of peace with her only neighbors, Tom and Shirley would suddenly decide to start sneaking into the yard to murder some crunchy old petunias sounded absolutely ridiculous.

Gina, on the other hand, had only lived in the house for a year and had already stained the carpet and ruined several articles of clothing she’d stolen from Nyl’s closet. The only reason Gina was there was so that Nyl wouldn’t slowly lose her mind to the isolation of being one of only two houses in fifty square miles.

Nyl knew that it had to be Gina, and she would prove it. She was going to spend her every waking moment trying to prove that the only friend she’d ever had was actually enacting some sort of secret campaign of sabotage against her. Clearly, this is why Nyl only had one friend, God bless Gina’s heart for her sacrifice.

Nyl shoveled the rest of the food into her mouth as quickly as she could before taking a brief moment to choke on her own stupidity. After coughing up an errant piece of chicken - and swallowing it again - she lifted herself from the couch. She put her bowl into the sink, pulled a wedgie out of her ass, and made her way through the back door and into the yard.

Nyl and Gina’s home was a lovely brown, two-story colonial building on a half acre of what should have been the second most beautiful vibrant green grass in the neighborhood. Second, of course, to the only other house on the forested street. Tom and Shirley’s place, which overlooked Nyl’s white 6-foot privacy fence. Tom and Shirley’s place was also a two-story brown colonial on a half acre. In fact, all the houses that the real estate company had planned to build in these hills would have likely been two-story brown colonials had they not gone bankrupt after laying the foundation for two houses and abandoned the project completely.

Noone bought the land at a steal and finished building the house with every last penny. Tom and Shirley’s house was finished only a few weeks before. While the neighbors had been cordial, neither were very talkative. The only thing that they had ever had in common were their yards. Tom, like every man who reaches a certain age, was obsessed with perfect landscaping and would spend hours each day tending to and fertilizing his thick, lush St. Augustine grass. Meanwhile, Shirley would occasionally return from town with the occasional concrete mushroom or chubby-faced gnome.

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