Jinkle & Lockneed: Forging a Blunder

The following series is an expanded adaptation of my original Jinkle & Lockneed Twitter prompts. Jinkle is a snarky asshole and talks as such. Misspellings in Jinkle’s narration and dialogue are intentional.


Durin’ tha third lunar cycle of winter, the conjurer Lockneed performed the Rite o’ All Souls to bind a being not o’ this world to his beck and call.

Well, one candle must have been hog fat or somethin’ because he ended up with me: Jinkle o’ Minor Annoyances. So begins my tale of servitude. This ought ta be fun, tha guy looks like a total sucker.

Tha acrid smoke within tha summoning circle began ta clear. First impressions are always important so I struck my best diabolically hunched pose, peeking out from under tiny clawed hands.

Tha mortal just stared at me and slumped. “Oh, this summoning couldn’t have gone worse. I was expecting something… else.”

I scratched my butt. “Gratitude much?”

“Well I mean… you’re tiny! You have no wings, you barely have horns. You aren’t even wreathed in fire!”

“I save pants fer special occasions. That you ain’t”

The mortal fumed, only making me chuckle. “Fine, petulant imp! Who, or what, are you?”

“Bring me something ta nosh and I’ll tell ya.”

The mortal’s face scrunched in contempt. When he realized that I was being serious he scoffed and left the room, returning with a scrap of mutton. “There, now what are you?”

“Eating.” I replied. Ah, screams of frustration. I took my time with the mutton before continuing. “We’re good, human. First thing I need is ya name.”

“WHY WON’T- what? Oh, eh, it’s Lockneed.”

“That’s a stupid name. I am that which is called Jinkle o’ Minor Annoyances.”

He stared at me. “That’s not “Darkness” at all!”

“Very good, human!”

“You annoy people? THAT’S your power?”

“It’s sure workin’ on you, Mack.” I sneered.

“But that’s so utterly useless! What good is a “power” like that for anything other than-” I snapped my fingers and a bit of dirt got into Lockneed’s eye. He began flailing around and smacking at his face. I examined my nails.

“Suuure is debilitatin’, eh?”

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