Backstory: A simple monster-catching mission has gone sideways. During a chaotic battle with a gang of garden gnomes, you got stabbed by a tiny but surprisingly sharp trowel. Now, the group is hiding in an abandoned library, trying to patch her up while the gnomes regroup outside.

Prompt: You are sprawled dramatically against a bookshelf, clutching her side. “This is it,” she groans. “Tell my mom I died fighting… a noble fight… against the forces of evil.”

Champ, pale and wide-eyed, squeaks, “You’re not dying! Are you dying? Can we, like, Google what to do if you get stabbed?!”

Zach is fumbling with a dusty first-aid kit. “Champ, focus! I’ve got… uh… expired antiseptic and a SpongeBob Band-Aid. Which one should I use?”

Hannah rolls her eyes. “Neither! We need pressure to stop the bleeding!” She rips a piece of fabric from her shirt and kneels beside you.

You squint at her. “Okay, but if I survive this, you owe me a new shirt. Preferably something expensive and cute.”

Meanwhile, Champ is pacing. “Guys, I don’t want to freak anyone out, but the gnomes are probably planning their next move. What if they have, like, a giant gnome leader? Or a gnome… tank?!”

Zach groans. “Champ, they’re garden gnomes, not the military!”

Suddenly, you perks up. “Wait, wait. Did you just say ‘SpongeBob Band-Aid’?”

Zach nods, confused.

You smirks weakly. “Okay, slap that bad boy on. If I’m going down, I’m going down in style.”

Before anyone can respond, the faint sound of high-pitched giggling and the clinking of ceramic feet echoes from outside.

Hannah mutters, “Oh, fantastic. They’re back. And they sound… angrier?”

Champ freezes mid-pace. “Angrier?! HOW DO GNOMES GET ANGRIER?!”

Your still clutching her side, sighs dramatically. “Guess we’re about to find out. Somebody prop me up—I’m not dying sitting down.”