Tinkerbell? Pissed! Off!

'Don't Anger the Faeries' is right. First of all, 'faerie' is an ugly slur, and unless you want your ass kicked by a furious 6'5" 270-pound Cher impersonator named 'Mitch' in six-inch heels and a Bob Mackie gown, I wouldn't go around calling us faer...um, hold on...This Just In: I misread the story. My bad! Correct caption: Attorneys Sprinkle Bamblesprout and Nimbelina Flutterfluff depose Tweeter, material witness in their "big folk" court hearing against a mini-mall developer. 'First, poop on the defendants, and then...'

Don't Anger the Faeries

from Sploid

In the Scottish village of St. Fillans, Perthshire, housing developers have lost out to the local Fairies.

Plans to build new homes at the edge of Loch Earn were scrapped when the villagers went berserk over the builders' intention to move a single rock...because the Fairies live inside the stone.

The Times of London reports:

Marcus Salter, head of Genesis Properties, estimates that the small colony of fairies believed to live beneath a rock in St Fillans, Perthshire, has cost him £15,000. His first notice of the residential sensibilities of the netherworld came as his diggers moved on to a site on the outskirts of the village, which crowns the easterly shore of Loch Earn. "A neighbour came over shouting, 'Don't move that rock. You'll kill the fairies.'"

Salter made the mistake of thinking the whole thing was either a joke or just the opinions of a lone nut. He was wrong. The villagers were very serious about the alleged Fairy nest.

The rock protruded from the centre of a gently shelving field, edged by the steep slopes of Dundurn mountain, where in the sixth century the Celtic missionary St. Fillan set up camp and attempted to convert the Picts from the pagan darkness of superstition.

"Then we got a series of phone calls, saying we were disturbing the fairies. I thought they were joking. It didn't go down very well," Mr Salter said.

With the locals firmly on the side of the Fairies, the developer had to start over with new plans. It seems the Fairies do have some implied legal rights:

The Planning Inspectorate has no specific guidelines on fairies but a spokesman said: "Planning guidance states that local customs and beliefs must be taken into account when a developer applies for planning permission." Mr Salter said: "We had to redesign the entire thing from scratch."

Battles between developers and Fairies aren't limited to weird places like Scotland. New York's Staten Island has its own colony of Fairies who began complaining in 1939 and apparently never stopped:

The fairies expressed their fear that, before very long, the beautiful Island will have changed into "a great brick, mortar and steel city, with cement roads, long rows of modern houses built closely together, and, will... "no longer be a home for fairies."

They felt it their duty, Kolff wrote, to leave a verbal account of their life, as well as a description of Staten Island, "with its hills and valleys, its lakes and dells, its forests, its wildflowers, its golden grain fields, its delightful country lanes, its waving fields of delicious strawberries and other fruits, and its wild life filled with song and other birds of all kind."

And in Iceland, the Fairies and Elves are reportedly so numerous that road construction projects are often re-routed so as not to offend the supernatural creatures living under various rocks. The New York Times reported in July:

Recently, the planning committee considered a resident's application to build a garage. "One member said, 'I hope it's O.K. with the elves,' " Ms. Erlingsdottir related. Should the council determine that it is, in fact, not O.K. - usually this happens when a local mystic hears from the elf population, directly or through a vision - the town would consider moving the project, or getting the mystic to ask the elves to move away, she said.

Such occurrences are not unusual. In nearby Kopavogur, a section of Elfhill Road was narrowed from two lanes to one in the 1970's, when repeated efforts to destroy a large rock that was believed to house elves were thwarted by equipment breakdowns. The rock is still there, jutting awkwardly into the road, but it is unclear whether the tenants are.

"With the artificial lampposts, there's too much light for them, and there's also too much noise," explained Gurdrun Bjarnadottir, who has lived across the street for some 30 years. "A lot of people believe they still live there, but I think they've moved."


Following dismissal of her lawsuit against Wal-Mart, Tink grimly realizes that only one thing will stop the Big Folk from destroying her woodland home now. 'I think I'll start with their children first,' she finally decides. 'Their entrails shall feed my garden, and their severed heads shall serve as a warning to others: DON'T FUCK WITH FAERIES, FELLAS!'