Fido and Scab were on their way thirty minutes later. Aside from Scab, Gangrene had set Fido off with his cousins, Moldy and Pixie. They were proving themselves to be merely annoyances, and were going to be anti-contributive to anything, as far as Fido could see. Right now they were nancing about like idiots, prodding each other with shish kabob sticks and acting out scenes from old kung fu movies.
Fido halted, announcing breakfast.
"Right, then. Let's see... I've got some bread. 'Bout you, Scab?"
In the end, Moldy and Pixie had brought some squished pork chops and some tainted vegetables. Scab had brought a tea strainer and a box of toothpicks. Fido sighed, passing out half mutilated pork chops to all. After breakfast and a minor eggplant clubbing to Moldy and Pixie, they set off again. Gangrene had directed them to go to Dwee, a small civilization of mostly men and hoagies. It was the longest section of the journey, according to Gangrene.
Moldy and Pixie provided some comic relief for Fido and Scab, stupid as it was. By the time they were halfway to Dwee, Moldy had three sprained fingers and a bruise on his bum the shape of Great Britain. Pixie had a black eye, a bloody nose and fingernail scratches across his left calf eight inches long.
An approximated ten days from Dwee, it started raining. Fido instructed a camp to be set up just off the road and into the woods, where it was more sheltered. They managed to get a small fire going, and cooked some of Pixie's vegetables. They each slowly drifted off to sleep.
Fido woke up just after midnight, from a nightmare. He'd been running through the woods, and a giant bagpipe with the head of a keyboard had been chasing after him, claiming to be Scab. When it had caught up to him, it began sawing off his limbs with a guitar pick and molding them like clay into small animal figurines. Fido lay back down, trying to get back to sleep, when he heard something on the road nearly twenty feet from him. Silently, he crept towards the path.
He saw a bit down the road there was a silhouette of some tall dark figure. As it came closer, he saw that it was wearing a long cloak, which shielded it's facial features, except for it's glowing green eyes. And it was mounted atop a most bheestly bheest. Of dhoom. The steed looked like it could have been a horse at one point, aside from it's long greasy fur and it's long neck. Sort of like if a llama and a horse had babies, then they were beaten brutally with a mace. Twice. (Anyways...)
The rider slowly halted the great beast, mere feet from Fido. He slowly dismounted, hissing at the animal to stand. Then he proceeded to walk to the edge of the road and... relieve himself. Fido stood in terrified silence as he did this, not daring to breath. The rider finished his business then strode back to the llama-horse, mounting, then kicking it into gait. The beast leapt into the air, tearing down the road making unnatural bodily functions and noises.
Fido let out a sob and dashed off back to camp, where he found his hoagie companions sitting huddled together.
"What was that?" Scab asked, his voice shaking.
"Yes, what?" Pixie squeaked.
"A dark rider, and something of a horse..." Fido answered in a low whisper. They sat in prolonged silence for a while, settling themselves.
"Erm... Mister Frodo? Might I suggest taking a path through the woods, just to avoid instances like that again?" Scab asked.
"Good idea... we'll take the Winsleydale Path through the Orloin Woods." Fido said.
Thus was their direction diverted.
*****
Fido cautiously picked his way through trees, brushes, and brambles for hours, finally succeeding in finding the Winsleydale Path. There was a river running through the path, which showed them their way easily. But only five minutes along, Pixie, Moldy, and Scab began slowing down noticably.
"So... tired..." Pixie moaned, dropping to his knees and passing out.
"Just a few... mnuhts..." Scab slurred, slumping down near Pixie. Moldy followed their examples. Fido decided it wouldn't hurt, just half an hour, so he curled up under a large willow and passed into blissful darkness.
*****
Scab was the first to wake up. He attempted to roll over, and couldn't. The willow tree he'd fallen asleep under had... bound him. It's lanky appendages were wound about Scab, and it was attempting to violate him, somewhere very uncomfortable. Like the back of a volkswagon. Scab screamed shrilly as the tree tried something unnatural, alerting the other hoagies. They all woke up in similar positions, wishing they hadn't.
They all began crying for help, squirming about frantically. Fido caught a few lines of a song, off in the bushes a bit.
Oi, sweet Irish creme atop mongoose carp
And rapist of moose, with the orange flavored tarp
The llama with lice, no the liquor is mine
And the whisky, it cheers for Tim Benedictine!
And at that moment, a small man sprang from the bunch of scotchbroom. He was at least two heads taler than a hobbit, and was wearing a purple jumpsuit with a bowler. In his hand was a large banana leaf holding some strangly tinted mushrooms and herbs. Striding over to the willow, he sat himself on the ground and recited some sort of incantation at the tree.
Down, you leafy bheest, at bay!
Things don't have to be this way...
The tree shuttered and loosened its grip, and the strange man continued.
Hey, back it up you freakish shrub!
We'll settle this down at the pub...
At this it's branches unrolled, dropping the hoagies to the ground. The man finished off with:
Now, you crazed bush, liss'n to me
No more of that, you fucked up tree!
The willow looked rather put out and wound up it's branches, pouting. I mean, if trees pout. The hoagies rushed about the strange man, crying out thank you's and belching. He stuck out his hand to Fido.
"Tim Benedictine, at yer overhaul."
Fido was a bit confused, but returned his handshake. He went on to explain about their journey to Dwee, and how they'd gotten lost.
"Could you show us the way?"
"Oh, sure... let's just go back to my place first... gotta drop some things off to the Green Fairy."
*****
The hoagies tried to follow Tim's path, but it was difficult. Every now and then he'd throw himself into a bush to either get sick or wrangle with some amphibian. After a while, they came to a clearing where a small shack stood. There was some flashing light coming from inside.
"Oh, man..." Tim said, passing through the door. The inside smelled like a rancid lump of old cheese, and was littered with matchbooks and bagles. Pixie found a couch under a giant mass of paper plates, and they all sat. Moldy's stomach began grumbling loudly, so Tim provided some iffy looking bagles and a handful of mushrooms. Not thinking too much about the odd flavor of the mushrooms, the hoagies devoured them in seconds.
"Hehhrrrm... there's little wurms in my tummy!" Pixie giggled, rolling about on the floor.
"I don't feel really good..." Scab grumbled, laying down. Fido agreed, it felt like there was a slug working it's way through his small intestine. He looked over at Tim, who was grinning like an idiot and poking at Moldy, who squealed each time. Fido was beginning to question those bagles, and at that moment his head turned to the consistency of a mushmallow and he toppled over the coffee table, scattering various items. The last thing he remembered was Pixie prodding him with his shish kabob stick and Tim saying:
"God, what a pussy... now there's someone who llamasmack the mongooses of Arabia, man. George Washington... heheh... grew FIELDS of weed, man..."