[ WP ] You are clumsy in the kitchen . Today , you perform a satanic ritual entirely by accident .

I cut myslef. I scream. I pull my hand back, knock down the oil. As I try to catch it, I drip blood over the floor. I curse. The oil bottle shatters on the ground. I turn around to catch some paper towel. It wo n't rip. I jank a piece off, my elbow knocks over the pepper and the balsamic. They crash onto the floor. I curse some more. I wrap my finger in the paper towel. I sigh. Look at that mess! I grap to cloth and soak in water under the sink. My finger is burning. I kneel down and start wiping. I rinse the cloth. As I turn to kneel down again, I slip on the wet floor. I scream again. I fall. I smash a few things onto the ground as I fall. I hurt my head on the floor. I think I loose conciousness. My vision is blurred. My head is hurting. A blurry figure leans over me. 
 
 `` Oh, dear... you look awful!'' 
 
 `` Thanks,'' I mumble my mind still one rattling noise of gears not quite fitting together, sqeeching, trying to squeeze themselves back together. 
 
 `` Huuuiii! Now look at that mess you made! Just to be clear right from the beginning: I ai n't gon na clean *that* up!''. 
 
 `` Sfine...'' I mumble. The gears in my head finally snap back into place. *Who is that person?!? * 
 
 I pull all my strength together. Push myself up on my elbows. Blink my eyes several times until the fog lifts. There was a gnome in my kitchen! A red skinned, tiny gnome with big hairy ears, surprisingly bold head. His knees were knobby, his wart covered behind sparsly covered in an old brown cloth. 
 
 `` What were you even trying to cook here? Looks like you tried to slaughter an elephant...'' 
 
 `` Who... who are you?'' I manage to stumble. 
 
 He turns around to look at me. His eyes puzzled. `` You do n't kno- wait... wait a minute... O for crying out loud! Not again! Why does this keep happening to me?'' 
 
 I blink. My ears still ring. My head hurts. I am nonetheless trying to put the pieces together. I fail. 
 
 He is cursing under his breath now. `` - keeps happening! To me! The great Gnome Gerome! The great defender of VorMandur! The fantastic singer of Lipeth! Me! I am a Grade A demon for heaven sakes! I have filed so many times to have my ritual changed! These useless imbeciles! These-'' 
 
 `` What are you talking about?'' I interrupt him. 
 
 He stops. Looks at me. His tiny dark eyes glaring in anger. He takes a deep breath, straightens his back. He pats his loincloth. He clears his thoat. 
 
 `` My name, unworthy pile of breathing flesh, is Gerome. Gerome the Great Defender. The Merciless. The Great. The Wise. I am- as much I hate to say it- at your service. How may I help your pityful pinkness?''
