Lord of the Rings Short:
Middle Earth - Give Blood!
Inside the Prancing Pony...
"Save lives! Do a good deed! Give blood today!"
A shadowy figure sat behind a makeshift booth, calling out promotions to anyone who wandered near. "You there! Earn renown for your great generosity!" The human on his way to the bar without so much as a glance. The figure leaned back with a sigh and scanned for other possible candidates. It'd had but one donor since it had set up shop at the inn, and it desperately needed more.
Two men at the bar let out a raucous burst of laughter before collapsing into twin drunken stupors. Perhaps a tavern was not the right place to be soliciting donations... Inebriation was only an issue for the donor, as they'd bleed out from thinned blood, but then there was of course the body to deal with. That situation also tended to be most off putting to other donors and the figure would most likely be asked to leave the county.
A trio of not yet wasted hobbits entered the tavern and sat at a table just across from the booth. "Hey, how would you fine young men like to do something heroic for less than an hour? Do a good deed, and then go right back and celebrate with the juice of the barley." "Well sure, I'll do it!" the most game of the three offered. "Now what do I do?" "Just sign here... then sit over there. Good! Now we'll just hook you up and borrow a mere pint." "Right! Sounds gre- whey wait, what? How much did you say?" "A pint. It's really not that-" "Whaaaat?! You monster, I'm out of here!!" The panicked hobbit fled from the inn, his two companions glancing confusedly back and forth between the booth and the door before quietly slipping away themselves. "Wait, wait! Oooh... well."
"AH DON'T MINE THAH COWARD! AH Hahahaaa!" "Most excellent, a truly nob- le... er..." The figure peered about the booth's vicinity, only to find it apparently empty. "DOWN HERE LADDIE!" "Right. Pardon me, sir..." "WHAT?!" "UH... Ma'am? Splendid, yes, just sign this... then sit yourself up here..." The dwarf hoisted herself onto the table so the equipment could reach. "ALriiight! STICK ME, lad!" "Alright, here we go." The figure's hands moved expertly with the tools at its disposal, aiming the needle precisely. Only for it to be deflected. It tried again. The tip of the needle pressed against the dwarfen hide, barely indenting it. "Err, uh... heheh... well, it seems your skin is too thi- uh strong for my needles. Donation... (heavy sigh) seems impossible. Thank you for you time." With a shrug, the dwarf hopped down and out of sight, leaving the dejected figure to sink back into its shadows.
After a third day of failed pleas for donations, the figure gave up and moved out for the next settlement. Seems there's no place for an honest vampire in Bree to stock up on supplies.
A NOTE to geeks who're saying/thinking to themselves right now that there aren't any vamps in LOTR... Go here: .com/wiki/Vampire
;P Besides, this was just some stupid insane fanfic I dreamt up one day. Chill out, you know I luv ya anyway.