At first, Wilson did not believe his eyes. Really. A gnome? In his office? Three apples high, wearing a cone-shaped red cap, holding onto a large leather bag standing on the chair across from his desk. He blinked a few times until the tiny fellow assured Wilson of his non-hallucinatory real existence. The gnome thunked the bag on the desk, and it opened to reveal gold pieces. The gnome needed to open a CD, long-term with a fixed interest rate. Wilson made sure “Eisel” had proper identification (how, exactly, did a gnome get a driver’s license?) and started the paperwork.