"One drop of paint on my walk," spat Paladin Took, "and you'll forget about Bilbo's party so fast you won't know what hit you," Pippin looked down at the ground, kicking imaginary dirt with his unshod foot. "One drop!"
Pippin trudged over to the fence, dragging a bucket of white paint with him. His father had not forgotten about the frog he'd placed in his mother's tea kettle as quickly as he'd hoped. Turning his head to the cerulean sky, he let out a sigh. Merry would be down swimming in the Brandywine, having near the time of his life. He, on the other hand, was stuck at home, painting a boring old splintery fence. Glaring at the pearl white paint, he groaned and picked up the old, rusty paintbrush staring up at him from the spring grass. Dipping the brush in the paint, and waving it around a little, Pippin heard a faint laughter from behind him. He decided to go on about his work, he'd let the culprit think he was going to get away with fooling him…again. Of course, it was none other than Meriadoc Brandybuck, Pippin's first cousin, and partner in crime. Making sure his brush was good and painted, he leapt up.
"Merry!" Pippin cried, running over to his cousin. "I thought you were going swimming with Frodo!"
"And leave you here to wallow in your misery?" Merry grinned. "Never!" Merry took hold of the wet brush, and promptly turned Pippin's light brown hair white. "Besides, now you'll have to go swimming, you've gone and gotten paint in your hair."
"Merry Brandybuck!" Pippin yelped, taking back his brush and chasing his cousin over the still wet fence, "I'm going to paint you white from head to toe!" The two hobbits leapt over the fence, getting paint all over their feet, and tracking it across the Took's front yard. They hurdled down the main road, tripping and crashing into several elderly hobbits along the way. Shouts of 'Watch where you're going!' and 'Your mother would be shamed!' followed them down to a small tributary of the Brandywine, perfect for a mid-summer swim. Pippin took a running start, leaping from two feet at the edge of the stream. Warm afternoon air whistled in his ears as he careened over the water's bank. Ice cold water met his skin, sending a chill up his back. Soon, the current swallowed up the top of his head. Kicking off from the bottom, Pippin broke the surface of the creek.
"Aye, Merry! Water's fine! Are you coming or not?" Suddenly, two hands clasped the hobbit's shoulders and pulled him under. Coughing and sputtering, Pippin wheeled around, sending droplets of water spinning in every direction. "Nice to see you too, Frodo!" Brushing back a mop of tangled curls, Pippin proceeded to return the favor. 'This is going to be a very nice afternoon, after all!' Pippin thought, as he dunked his cousin into the river. A very nice afternoon, indeed!
To be continued…