6th of Gremlin's Grin
I woke up today with a terrible, unrelenting itch behind my left elbow.
Naturally, I assumed it was a curse.
Because who just itches anymore? In this economy? Curses are everywhere. My neighbor got cursed last week by a singing bread. Now he can't blink unless someone claps. Tragic.
Anyway, back to me. The itch has become my entire personality. I've tried everything - licking it (don't ask), punching it, threatening it with divorce. Nothing works.
I even went to the village apothecary and told him I had "cursed elbow syndrome." He gave me an ointment made of goat spit and "probably not hallucinogenic herbs." Now my elbow smells like regrets and my dreams are sponsored by screaming jellyfish.
Everyone keeps saying things like:
"Sir Klem, maybe it's just dry skin?"
"Sir Klem, please put your shirt back on in the bakery."
"Sir Klem, we do not accept elbows as legal currency."
Fools. Peasants. Non-believers.
They don't know the ancient prophecies. I mean, I don't either, but something in the old scrolls must mention demonic elbows.
Tonight, I will embark on a quest to find Grilda the Witch, who once cursed a whole kingdom because someone mocked her soup. I intend to flatter her soup aggressively until she lifts this elbow hex.
If I do not return, bury me with my elbow.
Or better yet, bury the elbow separately. Just to be safe.