The Smidget

A Smidgen of Smidgetness

"Somehow, I feel like I shouldn't keep reading this. I mean, the first entry was bad enough," contemplated Bob. He flipped to the next page. Apparently, this "Smidget" liked to doodle. A giant picture of a... whale? A wave? Anyway, a doodle of SOMETHING covered the next page.

"That's weird," thought Bob. He flipped the page again. It was another journal entry.

"Dear Diary, 

Today was a very eventful day. So, first I woke up. Then I ate some canned beans. One of the beans was black. It tasted weird.  After I finished eating my beans, I took a stroll outside. It was very nice. Suddenly, I felt hungry. I went back to my house, and ate some more canned beans. Then I memorized the Periodic Table just because I was bored. Then I ate another can of beans. Then I went to bed. What a day!"

"Oh gosh, can this diary get any more depressing?" groaned Bob. He rapidly flipped the pages back and forth, creating a fan that helped him keep cooler in the hot weather. "Ahhhh, it's so hot! I swear, I could fry an egg on the sidewalk! It must be three hundred degrees!"

By now, you, as a reader, either forgot that Bob had "Random Noun" syndrome, or you just assumed that I, the author, forgot about this plotline. Well, Bob still had Random Noun syndrome. Random Noun syndrome sticks around for life, unfortunately. I dearly hope that you aren't ever a victim of this awful disease. For the convenience of you readers, I have simply translated his gibberish into comprehendible sentences. Just keep in mind that, as an amateur Random Noun translator, the sentences might not be 100% accurate.

"I'm hungry," remarked Bob. "I haven't  had anything to eat since I got fired from my job. I wonder if that tightrope walker has any car tires. That would be really green. Say, do you think I should go and ask that ugly troll over there? Gee, I pause." He walked over to the hot dog cart on the other side of the street, and bought a hot dog with the rest of the money he still had. "This blueberry is beautiful! I hate it! Say, I reflect if the monkey has any pencil cases." He walked back to the hot dog stand, and grabbed a napkin.

Alright, from now on, I'm just gonna use Google Translate to figure out what Bob is saying. Clearly, 3 days of study Random Noun syndrome isn't enough to interpret full sentences.

Bob munched his recently-bought hot dog, and stared at the journal entry that he was currently reading. Suddenly, a glop of ketchup slid down onto the book. Bob gasped, and reached for his napkin, but it was too late, one of the book's pages was smudged with ketchup. Cursing to himself, he analyzed the entry that had been ruined.

"Dear Diary,

I have done it! I have single-handedly figured out the solution to global warming! My world will no longer suffer from too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere! I am saved! But the best part of my solution is that it could work for literally ANY world anywhere. No matter what the population, the location, or how many suns there are, this solution is guaranteed to work. So, how did I figure this out? Well I was staring at the trees, when it suddenly came to me! It was a genius idea! Here it is: So first, if you to-"

Bob sighed. Great. The rest of the only useful entry in the whole diary was ruined because of his own stupidness. Bob threw his hot dog onto the floor. Not only did this make a mess, but he literally wasted the only piece of food he had. Bob smacked his head. But he forgot that he had ketchup on his hand from trying to clean up the mess on the book, so he heard a soft squish as his whole forehead transformed into a smeared mess. Bob groaned. At least he had the napkin. He wiped the ketchup off his face.

He flipped to the next page of the diary. It was an interesting one. Through the breaks of the words and sentences, small drawings had been doodled. As he read the entry, he realized that the Smidget was describing himself, and what he looked like. Bob was a little shocked. Until now, he sort of thought that the Smidget was a small, wiry, creature. He also thought that the Smidget only had one leg, for some reason. Well, the actual description was extremely different from what he would have guessed.

"I'm extremely tall, and can stick my head above the trees. I also have only one foot, but three hands for some strange reason. I have an extremely long neck. My skin is covered with a thick layer of purple fur, with brown spots. I know, the color contrast is awful. I also only have one eye. It's also extremely tiny. Imagine looking through the wrong side of a telescope. That's pretty much my vision. Because of this, I have to wear glasses. Or, not glasses, glass? Is that what you call a single lens in glasses? That sounds wrong. Whatever. My foot is bigger than my three hands combined. I also always wear a boot on that foot. The boot is green. I found it on top of my head one day. That was a really weird day."

"Woah," thought Bob, "how did I know he only had one foot? I must be psychic or something."

"I also have a giant mouth. My mouth is so huge, it can swallow three whole cans of beans at once, metal can and all. I'm not too sure it's that healthy, though. Every time I eat the metal, I end up farting uncontrollably for the next 34 hours. Yeah, not that fun."

The entry ended there. Bob flipped to the next page, preparing to read it, but suddenly felt a rush of drowsiness fall over him. He needed to sleep. The alleyway he was huddled up in would have to suffice. He snagged a towel from a neighbors yard, and curled up, closing his eyes.

Three hours later, a man dressed in black noticed him sleeping in the alleyway. This man had a knife in his hand. He walked up to Bob. "I'm sure this fellow has some cash that I can steal," he snickered. But before he woke Bob up, he noticed the journal. The man picked it up, and read the first entry. One sentence was enough. Apparently, the man thought that the journal was BOB'S diary, not the Smidget's. "This guy has a really depressing life."

Before he left, feeling guilty for almost trying to steal from a crazy person, the man placed a couple hundred thousand dollars next to diary, and rushed away. 

So, though Bob didn't know it, the diary literally saved his life.

What a crazy story.