Carla

“It was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a….” Stop right there. Enough is enough. Elf Gerbil was not having a bar of that stuff. Every single Christmas, the same old cheer the mouse, the partridge and the freakin’ reindeer! The Gerbil? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not this Christmas. No way. Get a grip. Elf Gerbil sent a warning to each girl and each boy - “Hail the Gerbil to receive your toy” Suddenly, Gerbil-fever takes hold, the streets ring with songs, lo and behold: “Round yon Gerbil, Mother and Child Holy Rodent so tender and mild’ Elf Gerbil delights, Gerbil love all around. Scurrying to Santa, to share what he’d found. Viva la Gerbil, they had finally been seen! Christmas this year, a rodent’s dream. So little children, for Christmas this year, it’s time to start spreading some ol’ Gerbil cheer!

Rumor has it that Farmer Gerbil is the son of two gerbil cousins. It’s a small town. He’s a shit speller too. “STRAWBERRYIELD” is scrawled on the beaten up piece of wood signposting his patch. He is a rodent of mystery. Perceived as an outcast farmer living a solitary existence. Farmer Gerbil appears to take solace in his love of LPs. Unlike his familial relations, his collection is diverse. Bob Marley and the Whale-rs, DeF-i-Leppard and Straight Outta COMPton, to name but a few. Farmer Gerbil dances like no one is watching. And the reality is – no one is watching. The villagers snigger at the inbred farmer with questionable musical taste and dancing ability. But Farmer Gerbil has the last laugh [insert evil laugh]…. Herein lies the untold. Decentralised from the world, unbeknown to the gossip mongers, this village enigma is the cream of his crop. Farmer Gerbil merengues through the land of the Jaredites. Where bounties await and gerbil pharaohs feed on grapes from gerbil cleopatras. An abundance of fruits squirreled away. "Be not deceived: for whatsoever a gerbil soweth, that shall he also reap.”

Every day, when the clock struck noon, Rug Pull Gerbil scurried out of his burrow towards the Tokyo underground, boarded a train and disembarked at the Ginza district. Two blocks later, he reached his destination. Hot pink neon lights blaring for all to see - SUSHI SOUL - home of the biggest and best sushi train in town. Rug Pull Gerbil had made this same journey for the past fifteen years of his life - never skipping a day. Rug Pull Gerbil, this tiny ferret with a huge penchant for raw fish whizzing before him on a track of deliciousness, boasted an unsurpassed love for all things sushi. Nigari, Tako, Uni, Inari. He did not discriminate. The SUSHI SOUL Chef, loved Rug Pull Gerbil. The two of them had their own farewell ritual. When Rug Pull Gerbil turned to exit after his sushi fill, he would turn to the Chef and declare "Sushi is my life". Time went by and this ritual continued. On one ominous day in September, when the winds outside caused the neon sign to shudder, Rug Pull Gerbil made his predictable journey. Nothing could prepare the Chef for what would follow. For on this particular day Rug Pull Gerbil stacked his plates for the last time, turned his back on the train and, in a moment which is etched into the Chef's mind forever, turned to him and declared "Tomorrow, I eat PIZZA".

WANTED: GERBIL OF WALL STREET A pointy face lights up Times Square The Feds were moving in The rodent's time was up they said That gerbil would never win! His last trade was a gamble he had nothing left to lose US Dollar to Bitcoin was the trade Blockchain he did choose. He rubbed his little hands together Finally, I had won! But this not-so-clever creature Hadn't realised what he'd done. Upon opening his wallet they'd given him a phrase but good old Gerbil of Wall Street had been in such a haze. He'd thrown away a mix of words Not realising their worth and today he sits alone and poor still unable to open that purse!