Dear Goblin,
I have a bathroom scale that I think doesn’t like me. No overt violence so I don’t think it’s evil; just a temperament difference I guess. Since you ingest toys, I thought maybe you’d like my scale, or maybe Feed the Goblins or a Goblinwill I can drop it off at.
It would have to be soon.
Please advise,
-m.o. in Florida
M.O-
Your first mistake is in thinking that, just because it has not been obviously violent, that it’s not evil. It absolutely is. The bathroom scale was invented by one ghoulish little creature that I personally once had the misfortune to cross paths with. Long story short-he got squashed like a troublesome gnat under my mighty fist, but I lost a toe in the process. Fortunately I have extras.
This horrid creature known only as Nugget, possibly because he’s a similar size to those chicken nuggets that you like to think are actually chicken, was a type of sprite. Mischievous, calculating, brilliant, with a heart as black and hard as a lump of coal. The bathroom scale was something he devised, borrowing the efforts of scientists past, as a way of depressing humans. It’s intended to make even the most stalwart heroes of today, the ones who want to get healthier, feel belittled just by stepping on it. There’s magic involved. When the scale senses you had a salty meal, instead of making it look like you only gained a pound from the water, it adds 4. Absurd. Plus, even when you’re doing so well and you really are losing weight, it will stay exactly the same number for a month, just to toy with your emotions. All that talk about plateaus? No way, says this Goblin. Who knows better than a Goblin about fitness anyway. Come on.
So in a nutshell, the scale has to go. I won’t ingest it. The magic would give me gob-awful gas. Not to mention my Blast-O-Matic won’t take such a large object. No, the scale must be loaded into a cannon and fired into the nearest ocean. I suggest you visit the circus. They seem to have them lying around without security, which is ridiculous. Load the scale into the cannon. Then a cat. Then fire. The cat’s because I am a goblin and goblins do not like cats.
-With the sincerest of sincerity, yours untruly, Dear Goblin
Dear Goblin,
Each evening my son is inundated with homework, and it is essentially the only thing we do in the afternoons/evenings. I have had meetings with his teacher and go to his class to help out each day, and no longer have any ideas as to how we can reduce his amount of homework (aside from foul things done to his teacher)…. any advice?
-Silversong24 in Arizona
-Silversong24,
One would never want to do foul things to a teacher, anyway. Aside from being champions of your human children’s futures, they are all-powerful witches and warlocks. Even I, a stout goblin of immense size and strength, would not dare go up against these teachers. Goblins won’t even send their children to school. We prefer, usually, a little stupidity until they become adult goblins and THEN we will educate them, simply by dropping them off in a nearby cave where hideous things live and expecting them to return home with a head clasped in each arm.
No, you can’t challenge the teachers, but you can deal with the homework. Here’s what you do. Figure out who the smartest kid in your son’s class is. He might have glasses. This seems common for humans, which is really odd, since the smartest goblins (like me) have the sharpest vision. All the better for hunting hu– I mean … for hunting elk. Yes, elk. Antlers.
So you find this kid and you throw a birthday party for your son and invite just that kid. Never mind if it actually is your son’s birthday. Tell him it is, that you had it wrong before, but now you’re fixing it. So the kid comes and you make him an offer. If he does double the work by making copies for your son, and writes in his non-dominant hand, and gets some things wrong, then you will bribe him with money and/or cookies, depending on his heart’s desire. If he’s one of those ethical sorts, I know a magic spell for that which I could sell to you for a few bucks and/or cookies.
If he accepts, problem solved. The smart kid does your kid’s homework. Your kid turns in this homework and remains less intelligent until he finishes school, which is the most proper thing.
-With the sincerest of sincerity, yours untruly, Dear Goblin
[Dear Goblin’s name is not actually Dear Goblin. But for now, you may call him that. Though he prefers some anonymity at present, Dear Goblin would like you to know he is a BARGEVARD University graduate, with a degree in Mangling Pixies. This advice column is merely his hobby. Anyone who follows his advice needs to have his or her brain checked. This is Goblin advice, after all. Don’t tell him I said that. I prefer to have my head attached.]
