I’d been called to the office of the Head of Design Control. I had a feeling it wasn’t to congratulate me on the quality of my work.
He gestured for me to sit and unceremoniously dumped one of my creations on the desk.
“What’s this?” He queried, eyebrow raised enquiringly.
“Oh, that’s my latest design in the ‘Gone Fishing’ series”.
“Yes. But what exactly is it?”
“Erm, it’s an elf.”
“Dickson, this is ‘Gnomes Unlimited’! We produce garden gnomes, fishing gnomes, dancing gnomes. Gnomes of every kind! Not elves, not orcs, not dwarves!”
“So, as for these elves… Let’s see gnome more!”
They called her Butterfly not because she was gracious but because she liked to see things fly. Often enough, people had to scatter in all directions when something came flying towards them. When she upgraded from apples and pears to dishes, someone yelled “not the butter”. She couldn’t care less and off it flew, the dish with the butter on it. It flew straight towards the head of the good old fisherman. He was never the same again. His grumpiness disappeared and he only had eyes for Butterfly who, still today, keeps making things fly. Her latest achievement… a bicycle!
It would be something of a misnomer to call me evil.
Weird, dangerous, perverse, cold, calculating and unfeeling are certainly words that could be aptly applied, but evil? Not at all.
If we’re being scientific about it, then you could almost certainly define me as psychopathic and sociopathic, neither of which, I would argue, necessarily make me evil.
You see, to be evil, one requires a sense of morality. Without it, how can I know whether my intentions and actions are immoral, wrong or downright nasty?
What you class as evil, is perfectly normal to me.
I think, I’m lovely!
Close But No Banana
How can you be under a misnomer? Further can you be over or between a
misnomer? Exactly how many prepositions can you interact with? I could
spend all day in this loop, deeply drilling down through context, or is
that content? Basically, we live in the land of misnomers. Failing of
update and cling to social nomenclature so we can coalesce in a group
consensus. Take the singular use of “they” not a they is a group, I mean
are. No they is a young non-bin girl-boy. Or is that a girl-boy. Is they
now a ubermisnomer or a hypernomer?c
Billbert followed the strange girl down a crowded hallway. He cleared his throat. “I’m Billbert. What’s your name?”
She flashed him a smile. “I’m Sabrina.”
He laughed. “Like the teenage witch?”
Her smile was much weaker now. “Yes. Like that. But witch is such a misnomer. It implies we throw newt’s eyes and chicken gizzards into a boiling cauldron.”
Billbert swallowed with difficulty. “Huh?”
Sabrina stopped. “Look. I’m just a girl with specail talents. Is that so hard to understand?”
Billbert shook his head. “No. I understand better than you’d expect.”
She pointed at a door. “Good. Here’s our class.”
The whole class had the wrong names.
Joy was a miserable child.
Chastity was a total flirt.
Angel was a total devil.
Christian was a sinful boy.
And Faith and Hope had none.
Honor was a deceitful little shit.
Scarlet was a pale shade of blue.
Grace was clumsy as hell.
Autumn was born in the spring.
So was Winter. And Summer.
Melody and Harmony couldn’t sing for shit.
Rose, Daisy, and Jasmine all smelled like garbage.
River and Brook couldn’t swim.
Only one kid had the right name.
Amber sat in the corner, encased in a glassy tan resin.