Once upon a time, Queen Mab was organising the new intake of fairies, sprites and imps.  Each of them was allotted a specific job or title, and great care had to be taken to ensure that these duties did not overlap.  Even in olden times, demarcation was an issue.  Each small pool in each river had its own tiny water sprite to tend it, and Heaven help the hapless sprite who ventured into another's pool without an invitation! 

Likewise each flower had its fairy attendant, and as there were many flowers with several blossoms on each stem, this led to a certain amount of overcrowding.  All hell would break loose when a blossom died and the now unemployed fairy tried to find a new home.  This shortage of blossoms eventually led to many homeless fairies dying of broken hearts because they had lost their reason for living.  Some of the hardier fairies formed gangs and would muscle in on rose gardens where they would be assured of finding poorly defended blossoms to occupy during the lean times.

Things got so bad that Queen Mab had to detail many imps to assist the bees in pollinating flowers in order to increase the number of homes for fairies.  Of course you know that the imps took on the form and shape of birds to make their task easier, and the legends of birds and bees involved in procreation still abound to this day.  However, even in the golden olden days flowers did not grow overnight, so temporary tasks had to be found to enable them to survive until the next spring.

Fairies were given useful tasks to tide them over, though the tasks were not always to the fairies' liking.  The fairies who were given dominion over certain items of men's clothing got quite shirty over it, while the onion fairies simply cried their eyes out.  The yo-yo fairies complained that their lives were full of ups and downs and the carpet fairies whined about being so downtrodden.

The cocaine fairies complained so hard that they got up everyone's noses, and the garbage fairies were down in the dumps!

During this winter of discontent, Queen Mab was kept busy ensuring that everything ran as smoothly as possible, and made regular rounds to keep an eye on the situation.  Early one evening, just as her Majesty was contemplating knocking off for the day and heading for the fairy ring and a jar or two of nectar, she heard a strange loud cacophony of sound that aroused her curiosity.  Setting aside thoughts of regal relaxation, she investigated and found a strange looking fairy dancing in the middle of a meadow.

A bizarre sight, she was decked out in tartan tunic, fluoro pink tights, a purple wig and lime green wings.  Spinning on her electric blue slippers, she was dancing to a box that Queen Mab, with her knowledge of the future, recognised as a still to be invented radio, tuned to a rock music station, on full volume.

'What is going on here?' she demanded to know.  'Who are you?'

'I'm Tiny Tizzy, your Majesty,' replied the fairy, 'And I'm doing the job you gave me.'

'I hardly think so!'  Pulling out her register, the Queen searched for the name Tiny Tizzy.  Looking up from the entry she found, she asked, 'And what pray is the task I gave you?'

'You made me a loud fairy,' came the reply.  'I found it hard to understand what you wanted of me, so I consulted some of the others, and they told me where to get loud clothing and loud music, your Majesty.  But my ears hurt with all this noise!'