Disclaimer: Nothing is mine! Nothing, you hear?
2. Learning to Adapt… or Not
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Middle-Earth says this about hobbits:
"Hobbits are a peace-loving, good-hearted race of, essentially, midgets. However, it would be gravely imprudent, under any circumstances, for a hitchhiker to call one a midget, for this will likely lead to the loss of your cranium. You will find the hobbits hospitable folk, especially if you provide them with alcohol. Hobbit brewing, by the way, is some of Middle- Earth's finest, and their specialty, pipeweed, is known throughout the land. However, sensitive hitchhikers may find pipeweed to have more hallucinogenic effects than they can handle. Hobbit cooking is wholesome and consists mainly of mushrooms. In conclusion, you will find your stay at the Shire pleasant and entertaining. Just remember: never call a hobbit a midget."
The four hitchhikers were now situated in the guest bedroom in Bilbo's hobbit hole. They had tried to explain that they were from a different galaxy, but none of their hosts knew what a galaxy was. However, after Ford had given them his bottle of Ol' Janx Spirit, they were too content, and too drunk, to ask further questions.
"So, where are we?" Arthur asked.
"We are in the Shire," said Ford, "and I've brought you here."
"I was afraid so," Arthur muttered.
"Oh, come on!" Ford exclaimed. "Don't you want adventure? Good times? Hobbit alcohol? Try something new everyday!"
"Hobbit alcohol?" said Zaphod, and was gone like a shot out the door.
"So, Trillian," said Ford, "you know he doesn't treat you well enough. You deserve better than that. For instance, if you went with me..."
Zaphod dashed back in the door, punched Ford in the face with one hand while his two others were each holding up a mug of hobbit beer, then ran back outside again.
"You must keep the Ring," Gandalf told Frodo. "Do not touch it, do not wear it, do not even think about it or you will grow a second head, just like that man who's running about outside drunk and calling everyone 'baby' right now."
Frodo swallowed in fear. "Who is he? Who are they? And why are you letting them stay in my house?"
Gandalf sighed gravely. "They are strange travelers from a distant land. Although my primary judgment tells me they are merely party-seeking nincompoops, they may become helpful yet. One day. Soon."
After Gandalf had left Frodo limped sadly to the guest room. "Are you all content in there?" he asked.
"Ack! Blue eyes!" said Trillian. "How old are you, little boy?"
"Fifty something," said Frodo.
"I don't go for older men," she told him.
"What is that thing? A midget?" Arthur asked.
"Never call them midge-" Ford managed to warn before Frodo dealt Arthur a vicious kick to the face.
"Aaaaagh!" screamed Arthur, leaping up and down. "He's killing me! Get me the hell out of here! Get-"
Frodo sat down and began to cry.
"Aww," said Trillian. "Don't feel bad. Do you want to hear a story about my mousies?"
At this moment Zaphod waltzed into the room, inhaling deeply from a pipe. "Hey!" he said, examining Frodo. "How're you doing, frood?"
Frodo passed out.
2. Learning to Adapt… or Not
The Hitchhiker's Guide to Middle-Earth says this about hobbits:
"Hobbits are a peace-loving, good-hearted race of, essentially, midgets. However, it would be gravely imprudent, under any circumstances, for a hitchhiker to call one a midget, for this will likely lead to the loss of your cranium. You will find the hobbits hospitable folk, especially if you provide them with alcohol. Hobbit brewing, by the way, is some of Middle- Earth's finest, and their specialty, pipeweed, is known throughout the land. However, sensitive hitchhikers may find pipeweed to have more hallucinogenic effects than they can handle. Hobbit cooking is wholesome and consists mainly of mushrooms. In conclusion, you will find your stay at the Shire pleasant and entertaining. Just remember: never call a hobbit a midget."
The four hitchhikers were now situated in the guest bedroom in Bilbo's hobbit hole. They had tried to explain that they were from a different galaxy, but none of their hosts knew what a galaxy was. However, after Ford had given them his bottle of Ol' Janx Spirit, they were too content, and too drunk, to ask further questions.
"So, where are we?" Arthur asked.
"We are in the Shire," said Ford, "and I've brought you here."
"I was afraid so," Arthur muttered.
"Oh, come on!" Ford exclaimed. "Don't you want adventure? Good times? Hobbit alcohol? Try something new everyday!"
"Hobbit alcohol?" said Zaphod, and was gone like a shot out the door.
"So, Trillian," said Ford, "you know he doesn't treat you well enough. You deserve better than that. For instance, if you went with me..."
Zaphod dashed back in the door, punched Ford in the face with one hand while his two others were each holding up a mug of hobbit beer, then ran back outside again.
"You must keep the Ring," Gandalf told Frodo. "Do not touch it, do not wear it, do not even think about it or you will grow a second head, just like that man who's running about outside drunk and calling everyone 'baby' right now."
Frodo swallowed in fear. "Who is he? Who are they? And why are you letting them stay in my house?"
Gandalf sighed gravely. "They are strange travelers from a distant land. Although my primary judgment tells me they are merely party-seeking nincompoops, they may become helpful yet. One day. Soon."
After Gandalf had left Frodo limped sadly to the guest room. "Are you all content in there?" he asked.
"Ack! Blue eyes!" said Trillian. "How old are you, little boy?"
"Fifty something," said Frodo.
"I don't go for older men," she told him.
"What is that thing? A midget?" Arthur asked.
"Never call them midge-" Ford managed to warn before Frodo dealt Arthur a vicious kick to the face.
"Aaaaagh!" screamed Arthur, leaping up and down. "He's killing me! Get me the hell out of here! Get-"
Frodo sat down and began to cry.
"Aww," said Trillian. "Don't feel bad. Do you want to hear a story about my mousies?"
At this moment Zaphod waltzed into the room, inhaling deeply from a pipe. "Hey!" he said, examining Frodo. "How're you doing, frood?"
Frodo passed out.
