Normally the kitchen of The prancing Pony was a serene, tidy place full of wonderful aromas and hardworking cooks. But should one have entered the kitchen today they would have seen a batter splattered kitchen and the two cooks arguing over the icing that was to be put on a chocolate cake that sat in front of them on the table. It was iced half way with chocolate and half way with vanilla. Strider the Ranger and Legolas the Elf where wearing lace edged aprons over their mud splattered clothes and shaking wooden spoons covered in icing at the other. Strider wanted the cake to be chocolate iced and Legolas wanted it to be vanilla iced. Two hobbits entered and jumped up on the table to get a better view of the delicious confection. They held up their pudgy hands and waited for the Ranger and elf to silence themselves. "Now then," said hobbit number one, "You two shouldn't be arguing over a cake, you're friends, now, don't forget it." "Aye," agreed the other hobbit, "We'll try the cake both ways and tell you later which way tasted better." Hobbit One winked at Hobbit Two. The hobbit's simple logical won the two over and their quarrel ended without another word. As the two untied their aprons and prepared to leave, the hobbits grinned and one said to the other, "I like cake no matter which way you ice it, it's still cake." As Strider left the kitchen, he turned to Legolas and said, "What were we doing baking cake anyway?" "I haven't any idea, I though you knew." Strider shrugged and pulled up his hood, "I think it is this place, don't we have somewhere to be?" "I think so, I'm not even sure where we are." "Those fellows in the kitchen were odd, don't you think?" The elf nodded, "Where to?" "Let's find the others." "Where did we leave them again?" "Somewhere between doom and utter failure." "Oh, yes. right. I know exactly where that is." The elf waved for Strider to follow him, and they followed the short stone path to the dirt road. Legolas looked down one way and then the other. He scratched his head, "Well, I know where we're going, but I still don't know how to get there from here." Just as Legolas was saying this, a young man passed by, and Strider addressed him, "Excuse me sir, but would you happen to know where we can find somewhere between death and utter failure?" The young man nodded shifting is pack, "Yes, you go down the road north until you reach a road going east." "Strider, it was doom and utter failure." Legolas corrected. "Aren't they nearly the same thing?" "Not at all." "You elves, always so exact." He smiled at the banter between friends, "Well for doom and utter failure you should go south, then take the road west, then the next road until you find yourselves in a rather nasty place." "That sounds about right," said Strider, he looked around for a moment, "Legolas, where is your bow?" "Well I had it right here before we were making that cake." "Yes, that cake seems to be the root of all our problems." "You've lost your bow? That's unfortunate, are you any good with one?" asked the stranger. Legolas's eyes blazed, but Strider answered for him, "Good enough to be an elven archer." The young man grinned, "Good. Then if you can out shoot me I will give you one of mine." "Pick your target then, young master." said Legolas. "Very well, but I prefer the name Robin, if you don't mind." said the young man handing Legolas a yew bow. "Not at all." At that moment t the two hobbits came running out of the Prancing Pony carrying the cake between them and making a headlong dash for the Shire. "Split that funny looking two coloured cake in half." The arrows wined through the air and the cake fell off of the plate, leaving two very angry hobbits glaring at one very alone Robin Hood. Strider and Legolas had vanished down the road. "Now," said Strider, "We are looking for a fellowship of nine, right?" "Yes, I believe they are riding black horses." "No, I think those are the ones we are supposed to avoid." "Aren't we part of the fellowship?" "I think you're right." "Yes, I think so." "There were a bunch of little people with use right?" "Yes, I believe so. Scardy, Chubby, Dopey, and Boring." "Yes, that's right and they fellow with the long beard.' "Weren't there two with long beards?" "Oh, yes, but one was much shorter than the other." "Oh, I remember, he very grumpy too, I didn't take to him very well if I remember correctly." "There was one more wasn't there?" "Let me see, Scardy, Chubby, Dopey, Boring, that's four, you and me, that's six, the old bearded fool and the discontented bearded fool, that's eight, yes there is one more." "I've just remembered!" "Really, well out with it then!" "The pigheaded, hotheaded, stubborn, boastful, prideful, cocky, rash, anxiuos for his own glory, greedy man with the silly shield." "Oh, yes, I didn't like him either." "That's okay, he dies later." "Oh, that's good." Strider nodded. "Oh!" cried the elf, "I've just remembered something, you're the King!" "Me, well that's ridiculous. Who would want me for a King?" "Well I don't know, you just are." "Well, I wonder who decided on that?" "They have committees that come up with that sort of thing." "Oh. How nice of them." They continued to walk along the road. "I have an idea," said Legolas. "Is it a good one?" "Yes, one of my best." "What is it then?" "Let's forget doom and utter failure and those other fellows and make a cake." "What a wonderful idea, I always did like cake."