The flailing gnome was no match for the Ellanator, an affectionate gnome hunting nickname she'd created for herself. YEAH, cause giving yourself an affectionate nickname was totally normal. Totally.

"No need to fear Geraniums, the Ellanator is here." And ready to send little Gnomeo on his merry way to the forest. Mhm.

The blonde began spinning the gnome around quickly, watching as the flailing thing got dizzier and dizzier. She kind of felt bad, knowing how awful being dizzy was, but figured it was the only way to go about this mission. She had to follow orders.

Letting go of the gnome, the third year sent it flying over the garden wall and into the forest.