I’d write about tiny stockbrokers, Liliputian interior designers and pygmy chestnut vendors, but I’ve never met any. The only dwarf I’ve ever known (slightly) atoned for his main job in the midget porn industry with cameos in Disneyoid kiddies’ films. I would have liked to have been acquainted with A Rapetto, frustrated tenor soloist of the French opera in New Orleans. Two locals:
- Dwarf number one is an apoplectic hunchback who guards a medieval castle/chapel complex on the bicycle ride variant of this walk. His platform is terror. His talent is driving his beat-up Seat at high speed into the group, lurching out and crying, “Stop picking my bay leaves!”
- Dwarf number two volunteers in a local church. Her platform is charity. Her talent, as demonstrated at mass last night, is clambering over the aisle-blocking, plastered-up leg of a deep-sleeping Central American man, after repeatedly head-banging him with her long-armed collection box in attempts to arouse him. This assault may have had some effect: when the priest raised his hands and face to the heavens, our sleeping fruity leapt to his feet and did the same, leaving the authochthonous retards clustered around him fearing for their lives.
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I put the screws on some liliputian looters in Sants not too long ago.
I think I know the first dwarf. He was very helpful to my mother in law when she came to stay with us in Vilafranca. She got lost after walking our son to school in the town and the obliging dwarf helped her find her way back.
A few days later she got pneumonia and spent a week in hospital. I think the dwarf was the highlight of her time here.
He’s probably a lovely guy, but unforgiving with errant herbalists.