DISCLAIMER: they all still belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, although he might disown them if he read this!
A/N: mindless humor. DO NOT take this seriously.
STILL THE PRETTIEST by Jessie Syring
How did I get roped into this "great quest", anyway? This isn't my fight. And these certainly aren't the companions I would have chosen!
The four Hobbits are obsessed with food. If they're not eating it, they're complaining how hungry they are. Endless chatter, that's all I hear from them. And it's always about food or pipe weed or other inane topics. Any Orc passing within ten miles would hear them!
The two men are even worse. Aragorn and Boromir. One can smell them from thirty feet upwind. Have they no idea what a bath is? And Aragorn's hair...has he even combed it in the last half-century? What can the Lady Arwen see in him? To make matters worse, they are always bickering on one matter or another. I've given up listening.
Only Gimli and Gandalf keep their peace but their habits are annoying enough. Smoking those foul pipes until my eyes water and I want to run away screaming. Are all the younger races so foul? I have to trust my senses to keep guard for all of these...children!
Oh, joy. The break is over so we must shoulder our burdens and be off. Our burdens. That's some joke. I have to carry more than my fair share and with scarce thanks.
As we cross a stream, I take a moment to glance at my reflection: large eyes with curling lashes, long hair that has somehow remained free of tangles and relatively clean, delicately pointed ears, well-defined muscles. I find consolation there.
Whatever else comes of this quest, one thing remains true.
I, Bill the Pony, am still the prettiest!
END
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