On Monday, the gnome was up to his tricks again. Tipping his little green feathered hat at Darryl when he approached the vending machine, he gleefully rushed toward the packet of frosted donuts in the C-1 position. When Alvin plunked his three coins into the change slot, the little fella remained in the upper left hand corner with his back pressed against the metal wall; nothing came out. Al kicked at the bottom portion of the snack dispenser; he roughly shook it from the top then jiggled the coin retrieval lever. Nothing happened.

Behind the window, the gnome jumped up and down, making faces and rude gestures at Alvin. Merrily laughing, he missed his footing and tumbled into the bottom of the machine. Undeterred, he leaped to his feet and did a quick jig in the candy retrieval area. Darryl burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Alvin snapped, turning on his workmate.

"The gnome is doing a dance," Darryl innocently responded.

"There's nothing there!" Al shouted in annoyance.

"He is too."

"Let's calm down, guys, and get some work done," Stella Arbuckle suggested in her calm, no nonsense manner. "No one can get anything done while you two are bickering about the gnome."

The rest of the day slid past uneventfully. Everyone completed their duties in a timely fashion with no further interruption. When the day ended, belongings were gathered, coats donned, and good-nights exchanged. The office lay in silence awaiting the next day's activities.

"Just a moment, Darryl," Alvin called as the young man was following the crowd out the door. "No hard feelings, okay, mate?"

"Yeah, sure," Darryl responded, turning back at the doorway. It wouldn't have occurred to him to hold a grudge or to get angry at his co-worker; it just wasn't in his nature.

"Come here a moment." Al gestured toward the candy dispenser. Standing side by side, the older man with his arm across the younger man's shoulders, they stood in front of the plexiglass panel. "Now, tell me what you see."

Darryl allowed his eyes to roam from the top of the machine to the bottom before he started to speak. "I see donuts and candy bars and bags of chips."

"That's right. And nothing else?"

"I see the gnome. He's standing next to a Three Musketeer with his hand propped against it and his legs crossed at the ankles. He always stands like that when he's waiting for you to make a decision," the young man responded with alacrity.

"He's not there, Darryl," Al stated in his most calm and convincing voice. "He's never been there. You're seeing things in your imagination."

"He is too there! I can see him right next to the Three Musketeer. I'll wave at him and he'll wave back, you'll see." Darryl raised his hand and wiggled his fingers at the window; promptly the gnome waved back with a wide grin overspreading his mouth. "There! I told you! He did it."

"You're crazy!" Alvin shouted as he jabbed his finger toward the gnome. "There's nothing there. Admit it!"

"But he's right there!"

"He is not!" Roughly Alvin grabbed the top of the machine and shook it with all his might. Surprised by the sudden onslaught, the gnome crashed against the plexiglass window at full force before tumbling to the bottom. Knocked unconscious, the green clad man lay lifeless in the retrieval area.

"You hurt him!" Darryl exclaimed, falling to his knees and reaching in to cradle the gnome in his opened palms.

"Get out of here!" Alvin screamed, grabbing Darryl by the shoulders and heaving him toward the door. Slamming it with all his mighty, he shut out the hopeless young man and returned to the vending machine. By this time, the gnome was on his feet and angry. "You're not there," the frustrated employee shouted. "Get it? Not there. Never was, never will be."