Operation Cheer Up Fin
It was one of those days where the sky felt too low and the coffee tasted too bitter. Fin had barely muttered “good morning” before curling up on the couch in a mound of blankets, looking like a forlorn cinnamon bun. His art supplies sat untouched on the table, his cofee went cold beside him, and not even the playlist Andy made—titled “For When the World Sucks (But You’re My Favourite Human)”—could lift the haze.
From his perch on the windowsill, Shams narrowed his eyes with feline precision.
“Charlie,” he meowed with authority, twitching his tail, “we’ve got a situation.”
Charlie, lying sprawled like a warm loaf on the carpet, lifted his head. “What kind?”
“Fin’s Sad.” Shams leapt gracefully to the floor, fur rippling like silver silk. “And not the artsy, broody kind of sad. The squishy, no-smiles, soul-droop kind. We must intervene.”
Charlie blinked slowly. “Belly flops and snuggles?”
“Tempting,” Shams admitted, rubbing his cheek against Charlie’s. “But we need reinforcements. Gifting reinforcements.”
The dog’s ears perked. “Zef and Snorb?”
“Zef and Snorb,” Shams confirmed. “It’s time.”
From his perch on the windowsill, Shams narrowed his eyes with feline precision.
“Charlie,” he meowed with authority, twitching his tail, “we’ve got a situation.”
Charlie, lying sprawled like a warm loaf on the carpet, lifted his head. “What kind?”
“Fin’s Sad.” Shams leapt gracefully to the floor, fur rippling like silver silk. “And not the artsy, broody kind of sad. The squishy, no-smiles, soul-droop kind. We must intervene.”
Charlie blinked slowly. “Belly flops and snuggles?”
“Tempting,” Shams admitted, rubbing his cheek against Charlie’s. “But we need reinforcements. Gifting reinforcements.”
The dog’s ears perked. “Zef and Snorb?”
“Zef and Snorb,” Shams confirmed. “It’s time.”
Deep in the glowing meadow by the fjord, under the watchful eyes of pixies and the last rays of sunset, Zef the gnome was perched on a mushroom. His leafy hat was slightly askew from cuddling Snorb, Andy’s fuzzy purple goblin, who was currently making contented snorting noises and drooling slightly on Zef’s tunic.
“Snorb,” Zef whispered, stroking a tufty ear, “you’re positively radiant when you’re sleepy.”
Snorb giggled. “And you smell like cinnamon and dandelions.”
Zef beamed. “That’s the new soap Fin gave me. Organic and flirtatiously floral.”
Just then, a blur of grey and tan burst through the larkspur and moonflowers, followed by a polite flurry of fluttering pixies.
Zef blinked. “Shams? Charlie? What brings you to our romantic cuddle shroom?”
Charlie licked Snorb’s ear in greeting. “Fin’s down. Like, really down.”
“He didn’t even yell at the UPS truck,” Shams added grimly. “It’s dire.”
Snorb sat bolt upright. “NO TRUCK YELLING?! We’re in code Indigo. I repeat: Code Indigo.”
Zef gasped. “We must act.”
“But… what can we do?” Snorb’s ears drooped, which made Zef immediately stroke them back up into perkiness.
Shams, ever the tactician, unsheathed a tiny digital camera from Charlie’s emergency backpack—because yes, Charlie had an emergency backpack. It contained snacks, squeaky toys, glitter, a small bottle of witch hazel, and a pack of gay unicorn tissues.
“We take photos,” Shams declared. “You two. Right here. Mushrooms. Moonflowers. Lovebugs in the background. Full romance mode. Then we send them to Fin and Andy.”
Snorb gasped so hard he hiccupped sparkles. “You want us to be… models?”
Zef adjusted his hat. “We were born for this.”
“Snorb,” Zef whispered, stroking a tufty ear, “you’re positively radiant when you’re sleepy.”
Snorb giggled. “And you smell like cinnamon and dandelions.”
Zef beamed. “That’s the new soap Fin gave me. Organic and flirtatiously floral.”
Just then, a blur of grey and tan burst through the larkspur and moonflowers, followed by a polite flurry of fluttering pixies.
Zef blinked. “Shams? Charlie? What brings you to our romantic cuddle shroom?”
Charlie licked Snorb’s ear in greeting. “Fin’s down. Like, really down.”
“He didn’t even yell at the UPS truck,” Shams added grimly. “It’s dire.”
Snorb sat bolt upright. “NO TRUCK YELLING?! We’re in code Indigo. I repeat: Code Indigo.”
Zef gasped. “We must act.”
“But… what can we do?” Snorb’s ears drooped, which made Zef immediately stroke them back up into perkiness.
Shams, ever the tactician, unsheathed a tiny digital camera from Charlie’s emergency backpack—because yes, Charlie had an emergency backpack. It contained snacks, squeaky toys, glitter, a small bottle of witch hazel, and a pack of gay unicorn tissues.
“We take photos,” Shams declared. “You two. Right here. Mushrooms. Moonflowers. Lovebugs in the background. Full romance mode. Then we send them to Fin and Andy.”
Snorb gasped so hard he hiccupped sparkles. “You want us to be… models?”
Zef adjusted his hat. “We were born for this.”
The impromptu photoshoot began with much fluffing and posing. Zef struck noble gnome poses—arms crossed, one foot raised, chin up. Snorb attempted a sultry look, but mostly ended up looking like he had indigestion.
Charlie coached them gently. “Okay, Snorb, a little less ‘I ate all the mushrooms’ and a little more ‘I am the mushroom.’ There we go!”
Shams snapped shot after shot, catching glimmers of firelight and pixie dust as they danced around the duo. He even climbed a toadstool for the overhead angle. It was, in his professional opinion, effing iconic.
Snorb and Zef giggled through every shot, hugging tighter, nuzzling noses, occasionally tumbling off their mushroom and into each other’s arms. The pixies took it upon themselves to fly in strategic sparkles and glitter hearts. One even held a reflector leaf.
“Send that one,” Charlie said, pointing with a paw at a shot of Zef kissing Snorb’s forehead as Snorb blushed bright lavender. “It’s the serotonin jackpot.”
Shams nodded and hit send.
Charlie coached them gently. “Okay, Snorb, a little less ‘I ate all the mushrooms’ and a little more ‘I am the mushroom.’ There we go!”
Shams snapped shot after shot, catching glimmers of firelight and pixie dust as they danced around the duo. He even climbed a toadstool for the overhead angle. It was, in his professional opinion, effing iconic.
Snorb and Zef giggled through every shot, hugging tighter, nuzzling noses, occasionally tumbling off their mushroom and into each other’s arms. The pixies took it upon themselves to fly in strategic sparkles and glitter hearts. One even held a reflector leaf.
“Send that one,” Charlie said, pointing with a paw at a shot of Zef kissing Snorb’s forehead as Snorb blushed bright lavender. “It’s the serotonin jackpot.”
Shams nodded and hit send.
Back at home, Fin’s phone buzzed from within the couch blankets. He groaned, reluctant to face the outside world.
But then—he peeked.
And there they were. Zef and Snorb in a meadow of moonflowers, cuddling like the gayest, fluffiest couple to ever sit on a mushroom.
Sparkles. Glowy fairies. The works.
Followed by a message from Shams:
“Mission Cheer-Up: Success in progress. More cuddles incoming.”
Then one from Charlie:
“U r loved. Also pls give treats.”
Fin burst into laughter. A real one. Not a polite chuckle or a half-sigh. He laughed until his cheeks hurt and tears rolled down, and then he texted Andy:
“They sent me a gay gnome and goblin photoshoot. I am undone.”
Andy replied immediately:
“I knew the fluff squad would pull through. Tell them they’re perfect. And you’re my favourite human. Always.”
But then—he peeked.
And there they were. Zef and Snorb in a meadow of moonflowers, cuddling like the gayest, fluffiest couple to ever sit on a mushroom.
Sparkles. Glowy fairies. The works.
Followed by a message from Shams:
“Mission Cheer-Up: Success in progress. More cuddles incoming.”
Then one from Charlie:
“U r loved. Also pls give treats.”
Fin burst into laughter. A real one. Not a polite chuckle or a half-sigh. He laughed until his cheeks hurt and tears rolled down, and then he texted Andy:
“They sent me a gay gnome and goblin photoshoot. I am undone.”
Andy replied immediately:
“I knew the fluff squad would pull through. Tell them they’re perfect. And you’re my favourite human. Always.”
That night, Fin called the crew over for snuggles. Charlie got belly rubs. Shams got salmon treats and a glitter brush. And in the corner of the room, beside a digital photo frame now proudly displaying Zef and Snorb’s meadow magic, a fresh painting began to take shape—moonflowers and love, glowing bright on canvas.
The bad day had not vanished.
But in the glow of goblin joy and gnome cuddles, it didn’t stand a chance.
The bad day had not vanished.
But in the glow of goblin joy and gnome cuddles, it didn’t stand a chance.
