Not Quite Put Back Together

Prologue

There was a time when Tybalt was happy.

Since he had been a child he had loved everything active; gnomeball, basketgnome and especially running races with other gnomes. As he got older and took on more responsibilities for his uncle Redbrick, this began to manifest itself in risky patrols, raids on the Blue Garden, expeditions into the house - anything that involved danger enthralled and thrilled Tybalt to the fullest extent. Then he discovered lawnmower-racing.

Fast? Definitely. Fun? Absolutely. Dangerous? Especially. It was everything Tybalt adored packed into one amazing, exhilarating sport. But the Reds only had one lawnmower, as most gardens did, and this could only be taken out on occasions when the owner of the Red Garden house - Mr. Capulet - was out, and was often abruptly interrupted by Mr. Capulet coming home.

When Tybalt was on a lawnmower, he felt alive. He forgot about his responsibilities, about his troublesome cousin, about his loneliness, and he simply lived for a while. But he was fiercely loyal to his uncle, and unless he thought it was for the best, he refused to break any rules, meaning that he would never take the lawnmower out unless Lord Redbrick gave him permission.

When Tybalt had matured into an adult gnome whose mentality matched his appearance - for gnomes are created with one appearance and this does not change as they age - he was firm friends with Fawn, and spent his days keeping the law and playing charades with Fawn and his tiny gnome friends. He was, perhaps, a bit arrogant, but he was youthful and had a lot more responsibility than many of the elder gnomes, so they couldn't blame him for being a little proud of himself. He upheld his duties with pride, only ever abandoning them to lawnmower-race, and always leaving Fawn in command when he did. All was well.

Tybalt first caught wind of the lawnmower-race being set up by the two Gardens by eavesdropping on a suspicious conversation. He was so excited he barely slept that night. Lord Redbrick called him the next day and asked if he would ride for the Reds, an offer that he accepted without hesitation.

"I'm counting on you, my nephew." he said. "Don't let me down, now."

In the heat of the race, Tybalt was growing nervous. He looked across at the Blues' selected champion, a younger gnome named Gnomeo. How creative. The gnome looked excited, confident, and most of all his lawnmower looked far better than Tybalt's. His uncle's words were swimming through his head, taunting him; Don't let me down, Tybalt. I'm counting on YOU, Tybalt.

He panicked. He turned to Fawn, who could see the sweat dripping off of him and hear his short breathing.

"I can't beat him." he whispered frantically.

"Yes you can! He's just a Blue!" Fawn encouraged him.

"No, I can't. I'm going to lose, and everyone will hate me, and Uncle Redbrick - oh, God, Uncle Redbrick -"

Before he could continue, a Blue woman came out in front of the lawnmowers.

"OK boys, y'all know the rules, and I don't need to repeat them. But I'm gonna, 'cos I wanna. No biting, no scratching..."

The Blue gnome beside him turned and gave a cocky smirk. Tybalt hid his fear and scowled as best as he could, while his mind was swirling around in a hurricane of self-doubt and terror.

"... And most of all, no cheatin'!" the Blue woman finished.

"No cheating? Hey, that's not fair!" Fawn joked beside him, but Tybalt hardly heard. His heart was pounding in his ears. His hands were sweaty. He was sick with nerves. He just wanted to go and keep on going until he reached the end of the world.

"On your marks!" the lady began. His stomach twisted, and he took a final glance at the Blue, who glared at him mockingly.

"Get set!" Tybalt's nerve got the better of him and he slammed his foot down on the pedal.