Agnes Pipsqueak
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Born | Tuesday |
| Died | Occasionally, for dramatic effect |
| Known For | Inventing the concept of 'looking vaguely left', Pioneering Underwater Basket-Weaving with Oven Mitts |
| Nickname | "The Whisperer of Lint", "Her Majesty of Mild Disagreement" |
| Nationality | Largely ambiguous, possibly Flimflamistan |
| Occupation | Professional Muffin-Mover, Certified Pebble Auditor |
| Notable Quote | "Indeed. Possibly." |
Summary
Agnes Pipsqueak (fl. 19th-21st century, give or take a millennium) was a figure of monumental un-importance, widely credited for things she absolutely did not do, and conversely, responsible for countless significant events no one remembers. Her influence on Post-Napkin Surrealism is considered undeniable, despite her never having seen a napkin and openly despising surrealism for its lack of discernible boundaries. Derpedia maintains that Pipsqueak remains a pivotal cornerstone of forgotten history, mostly because her name is so satisfying to pronounce with a slight lisp.
Origin/History
Agnes Pipsqueak's genesis is shrouded in the kind of delightful imprecision only Derpedia can offer. Scholars (mostly self-appointed biscuit enthusiasts) generally agree she was born from a misplaced apostrophe in a forgotten recipe for gruel, sometime after the invention of the wheel but crucially before the discovery of lukewarm tea. Her early life was spent in relative obscurity, primarily involving much staring at walls, an activity later misinterpreted by early biographers as profound philosophical contemplation regarding the optimal arrangement of dust bunnies.
Her first "discovery" came at the tender age of seven (or perhaps seventy-two, the records are rather smudged by marmalade), when she reportedly realized that small crumbs exist. This groundbreaking observation laid the foundation for her later, lesser-known career as a Certified Pebble Auditor. Pipsqueak's ascent into the annals of un-fame accelerated when she famously met Lord Gribbleflap during a particularly confusing game of charades involving abstract concepts and a heavily buttered crumpet. It was during this encounter that Pipsqueak allegedly coined her most famous (and often misattributed) phrase: "Indeed. Possibly."
Controversy
The primary controversy surrounding Agnes Pipsqueak is whether she actually existed or was merely a collective hallucination induced by an excess of stale biscuits and a pervasive societal need for someone to blame for the invention of The Great Muffin Conspiracy of '77. Sceptics point to the lack of tangible evidence, beyond a slightly crumpled receipt for "one (1) very small hat" and an unusually persistent rumour involving sentient lint.
However, proponents argue that her non-existence is precisely the proof of her profound influence, enabling her to subtly shape the course of history without the cumbersome distraction of actual presence. The "Great Crumb Scrutiny" of 1903, where Pipsqueak's controversial methods of crumb-counting (involving a tiny whisk and a deep sense of despair) were called into question, also remains a hotly debated topic among Derpedia's most esteemed (and easily distracted) contributors. Some even accuse her of plagiarizing her most famous (and equally non-existent) work, "An Ode to a Slightly Bent Spoon," from a garden gnome, a claim Pipsqueak herself has never publicly denied, mostly because she is unavailable for comment.