“WTF happened to Bill!”
“No idea, I told the lazy bastard if he stood still too long he was going to grow roots. I didn’t think he’d literally become part of the landscape though.”
“You know, they say the faeries run through these gardens. They can be mischievous folk, maybe Bill rubbed one of them the wrong way and poof!”
“Stop it, this isn’t funny. He wouldn’t run off without his boots. Where did he go?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you. I ran up to the house and he was gone when I got back. I have no clue why he left his boots or where he’s gone.”
Ok, so I wasn’t exactly being truthful. You see Bill was a douché and when my best friend headed into town to pick up some more gardening supplies the pig made a pass at me. I let him think there was a chance, flirted with him some and talked him into undressing. The moment he turned his back to set his boots on the stump… well let’s just say I finally found a use for that old pitchfork. He ain’t with the faery folk and I am certain he won’t be coming back. She is better off without him anyway. As for his boots, they are more useful as planters than they ever were on his feet.
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