It’s funny, hanging out with creative people. Sometimes you’ll have no idea how their minds work, sometimes you’ll be so in sync that you can finish each other’s sentences, and sometimes the littlest things will set you off. Take tonight, I’m bumming around Twitter and @WonderAli jokingly asks @FuzzyTypewriter for a bedtime story. The next thing I know my head is saying, “Once upon a time there was a gentleman of disreputable tastes.” and we’re off to the races. I’ve only written a bit of it and it leaves off on kind of a cliffhanger, but here is what I wrote before exhaustion pulled me down.
Once upon a time there was a gentleman of disreputable tastes. His name has long been lost to history, but we know he was a visionary and, like many scary looking people, he loved small, fuzzy animals.
This gentleman, for some reason or another, longed for the company of others like him, but found that whenever he gathered like-minded friends about him the authorities would invariably intervene, carting the man and his friends away from their comfort and conversations about the best ways to remove burrs from behind puppy ears or how to protect your china while on the run from the law.
This fellow drifted through the world, from city to city and them kingdom to kingdom, all the while looking for a place where he and the hulking, grunting, smelly mass of his peers could call home. A place where they would not be judged by their, frankly, frightening appearance but by their diverse and productive talents.
It was on the edges of a great forest, neither too close nor too far from the island capital of the kingdom that the man finally gave up hope.