The Mushroom

Middle-earth's Finest News Source Since 1379 Second Age

Completely Unrelated Hobbits Wed

"It's the queerest thing we've ever heard of," say neighbors.

To outsiders, Yarrow Goldworthy, born Proudfoot, and her husband Wondo appear to be perfectly ordinary and respectable hobbits. They live in Michel Delving, only a quarter of a mile away from the house Wondo grew up in. Wondo works with his father and five brothers on the family barley farm, while Yarrow stays home and tends to the house. The couple is expecting their first child in May. However, until recently, they harbored a deep dark secret.

Wondo and Yarrow are completely unrelated.

"I've never heard of anything so abnormal," says Emerald Chubb, Yarrow's ninth cousin twice removed on the Took side. "When Wondo and Yarrow announced their engagement, we all just naturally assumed that they shared an ancestor or two. But last week my grandmother Carnation Hornblower was looking over our family tree and realized that they aren't related. Not whatsoever."

Since the appalling discovery was made public, Yarrow and Wondo have been ostracized by the community. When Yarrow went shopping for new dishes, the shopkeeper refused to sell them to her, saying that it was bad for buisness to "sell to your kind, if you follow me." Only last night, Wondo discovered graffiti on their garden shed, reading "Leave the Shire you freaks".

Although both Wondo and Yarrow refused to comment for this article, their families and neighbors fear the birth of their child. "I don't want my little ones coming in contact with something conceived in an unnatural union, thank you very much," says Torodoc Brandybuck-Bolger, Wondo's fifth cousin four times removed on his mother's side. "It's bound to be a bad influence," added his wife Bluebell, the Old Took's great-great grandniece.

Ask Bill The Pony

Dear Bill the Pony,

This may sound unbelievable to you, but I am an ugly elf. My hair is the color of dirty dishwater and I reach the pathetic height of five feet and nine inches. Even though I am 1,921 years old, I have never been on a single date. My four sisters have all had multiple Quenya odes written about them, but when my father desperately asked the loremaster to write one for me, he just laughed. What should I do? I have tried many spells to make myself look more attractive but none of them have worked.

A Repulsive Elf in Lothlorien

Dear Elf,

I am sorry you consider yourself so unattractive, my dear. It seems to me that your charms might be accentuated if you had a bit more self-confidence. Instead of saying your hair is the color of dirty dishwater, perhaps you could describe is as "a deep burnished golden color". And five feet nine inches is not such a horrid height. I myself am only four feet and seven inches, and I have many admirers among the female ponies of the Shire. (Well, I must admit, part of this is due to Sam Gamgee and his regular grooming of my coat.) Besides this, I have two suggestions for you. The first is to forget the loremaster and write your own Quenya ode. I heard a rumor that Luthien Tinuviel did this, and we all know how famous her story is. The second is to change your location. Such close proximity to the Lady will certainly lead to comparisons, a problem you could avoid by moving to an area where there are not as many elves.

Dear Bill,

I am a former servant of the Dark Lord who is widely believed to be dead, due to an unfortunate encounter with some hobbit arrows. Since this event, I have appeared to my friends (both of them) and family, trying to convince them that I am, in fact, alive. However, when I do this, they scream "A ghost! A ghost!" and run away. Please advise me.

Forked Tongue in Mordor

Dear Forked Tongue,

Well, Grima, it's not that hard to understand. If I saw a wizened and chalk-white creature who looked like a bad combination of Marilyn Manson, Michael Jackson, and Severus Snape standing in front of me, I too would believe it to be a spectre. Either that or a drug-induced nightmare. You might try washing your hair and growing back your eyebrows. I know that look is fashionable among orcs, but it is really not becoming to a human.

Dear Mr. Pony,

Ever since my daughter reached the "terrible twos", she's been driving me mad. Just today she ripped my husband's best jerkin, spilled the ale I was saving for company, and threw my dwarvish necklace down the privy. I never had this problem with her older sister, who was the sweetest and most wonderful child to walk the face of Middle-earth. Please help me!

Frustrated in Gondor

Dear Frustrated,

Just don't try to set yourself on fire. Or her either.

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