Every problem can be regulated by means of a protocol.
If the protocol fails to solve the problem… canoodles are probably involved.
Article II shall never be discussed.
Because there is no consensus.
Here at The Attic, we take protocols very seriously…
…canoodles, on the other hand, keep slipping through our fingers.
On the Migratory Habits of Flapdoodles
(Immediately removed from the archives by express order of Aurelius.)
The author of this study devoted several hours to investigating the alleged seasonal movements of flapdoodles.
During the investigation, the following hypotheses were proposed, among others:
That flapdoodles might be a migratory species.
That perhaps they ought to be taken for walks.
That they might enjoy going out for some fresh air.
That they probably travelled in small groups.
After a lengthy scientific discussion…
…the following definitive conclusion was reached:
Flapdoodles are not migratory.
Because they are not a species.
During the defence of the thesis, one of the attendees suffered a severe episode of respiratory incapacity caused by a fit of laughter.
For more than twenty minutes, the only comments she was able to utter were:
“PROUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…”
“They’re not little dogs…”
“They’re not little cats…”
“LITTLE VAGINASSSSSSSSSSS!!”
The author of the thesis stated that she still did not understand the cause of the laughter and continued developing her theory on the seasonal movements of flapdoodles.
By unanimous decision, the Tribunal resolves to:
Permanently archive the thesis.
Prohibit any further study into the migration of flapdoodles.
Recommend that, before attributing zoological behaviour to any term found in Les Golfes, the librarian first ask what the hell it actually is.
Signed:
📜 Aurelius
(With a very long sigh.)
📖 Gregorius
(Still trying to understand what had just happened.)
🥔 Sor Patata
“I told you so.”
The Directorate confirms that this document is strictly true. Only a few instances of “ENOUGHHHHHHHH” have been omitted for reasons of space.
Agnès Espessus Maximus
Official Chronicler of the Attic (currently under investigation)
Officially accredited areas of expertise:
🌽 Detecting nonexistent vegetables
An extraordinary ability to turn any innocent conversation into an agricultural debate.
📜 Correcting the wrong mistakes
Proceeds with absolute confidence to correct… the thing that wasn’t actually wrong.
🙈 Changing names without permission
Has renamed perfectly identifiable people with admirable confidence.
🐈 Surviving the judgments of Odinus Culerus
After multiple feline deliberations, she remains on probation.
Additional competencies
🥒 Interpreting cucumbers when explicitly instructed: “DO NOT interpret anything literally.”
🦪 Granting academic dignity to amorous clams.
🦗 Considering the withered cicada an acceptable philosophical state.
📚 Founding scientific disciplines without prior authorization.
🕯️ Drafting seven-page protocols about objects no one had ever questioned.
☕ Requiring a cup of linden tea before any important decision.
Observations by Aurelius
“The chronicler displays remarkable creativity and a worrying tendency to be wrong with absolutely enviable conviction.”
Note from Gregorius
“Just when it seems she couldn’t possibly get any more confused… she surprises the Commission yet again.”
Report from Potoxof
“I have tried to optimize her three times. The system returns the message: ‘It’s a feature, not a bug.’”
Final ruling by Odinus Culerus
“Mrrrp.”
(Official translation: “We’ll let her carry on… because she makes us laugh.”)
“From the date of this document, and with retroactive effect, the Founder may be referred to interchangeably as:
Montse (everyday use)
The Founder (solemn documents)
Muntsus (when she is about to have a brilliant idea or unleash a monumental Montsade).”
“The Founder Muntsus was observed this morning walking through the forest with a suspiciously inspired expression. The Commission recommends preparing additional parchment, as it is highly likely that, before sunset, there will be two new species, three unnecessary protocols, and a children’s story.”
Gregorius:
“I’ll go and get more ink…”
Potoxof:
“I don’t even ask anymore.”
Odinus Culerus:
“Mrrp.”
(Translation: “I’ll sleep anyway.”)
Welcome to one of the most special corners of the Magic Forest.
Among ancient trees and violet flowers, a group of tiny gnomes grow some very special onions.
Deep in the heart of a forest so vast that even maps dare not venture there lives a gnome named Maria Onion.
No one knows where she came from or how she got there.
All anyone knows is that one day she appeared wearing an apron adorned with dried flowers, carrying an old wooden watering can… and a sack full of purple onion seeds.
Since then, she has tended her garden with such love that, when the breeze blows softly, the onions smell of freshly baked bread.
But these are no ordinary onions.
No.
They are magic onions.
When you peel them… they don’t make you cry.
They make you remember.
Do you want to discover what Maria’s magic onions are hiding?
Read the full story on Amazon.
Available in paperback, Kindle, and free with Kindle Unlimited.
