Gemotions

"Well, now," Reginald drawled, examining the life-size sculpture of a gnome made from garden gnomes. It was a clear rip-off of his style, but…well, it was ridiculous. A genuine chuckle escaped him, followed by a series of quiet, staccato snorts.

The gallery owner, a portly fellow with a bewildered expression, was gesticulating wildly at a critic, defending the piece. Reginald's eyes crinkled at the corners as he observed the owner's increasingly flustered state.

He crossed his arms, the corners of his mouth twitching. The whole situation was utterly absurd. He wondered if he should reveal himself. No, he decided, watching the show from the sidelines was far more entertaining.