Disclaimer: Except for the Health Consultant, I own NOTHING. The characters belong to Tolkien the Great.
After the Council was done deciding who would take the ring to Mordor, Elrond invited his guests and the newly made Fellowship to a feast. He lead them to the dining room where a large, rectangular table was laden with a wide variety of foods, which everyone couldn't wait to sink their teeth into. But little did they know of what would happen, something that would cause everyone great distress... and hunger.
They had situated themselves around the table in finely carved wooden chairs, when from the door a sophisticated looking woman in her early thirties walked in. Her glossy blonde hair was put up at the back of her head; she wore a white blouse, a gray skirt, black high heels, wire rimmed glasses, and carried a black leather briefcase. She looked as if she was a hippie when she was younger, then grew up to become an accountant, or... something else.
She smiled at the council. "Hello, everyone!" she said brightly. "My name's Pegean (pronounced 'pig-EEn') and I am your Health Consultant." She strode to the head of the table and took a chair next to Elrond, who looked positively bewildered. She placed her briefcase on the table, pushing a plate and goblet away. She took out a clipboard with paper and a pen, and continued. "Now, I understand you have just voted for some people to take a possessed ring to a volcano. That'sgreat, goodforyou. Did you ever once think about your health? That's why I'm designing a diet plan for everyone, so you all can stay healthy and fit on your excursion."
By now, everyone looked around at each other, plainly thinking, Who hired this crazy woman? Pegean took no notice of this behavior. "Now, if you've been selected to go to the volcano, please raise your hand." Nine people reluctantly did so, and the Health Consultant scribbled their names on the paper.
"Right," she went on. "I now must ask each of you what you like to eat, starting with," she glanced at her list, "Mister Frodo Baggins."
Frodo looked nervously at her. "Um, well," he stammered. "I don't cook. I usually eat what Sam cooks for us hobbits."
Pegean scanned her list. "Ah, yes, Mister Samwise Gamgee. What of you?"
"Well, ma'am, we eat a balanced meal in my opinion," Sam stated. "Merry and Pippin like their vegetables, so we get plenty of those. And fish, fish too."
The Health Consultant's eyes lit up. "Great! Fish helps improve brain functions. Ah, and remember: grill over fry!" She got up and paced in her area, rambling on about cholesterol and boring the council into a stupor. She talked so much she didn't notice the hobbit named Pippin taking an envelope from her briefcase and ducking back under the table again.
After ten minutes of talking Pegean plopped down on her chair and took up her list again. "Mister Gimli," she announced. "What do you like to eat?"
"Dwarves are miners naturally," he told her importantly. "So after a hard days work we like to finish the day with a feast. Malt beer, and red meat right off the bone!"
The other dwarves present murmured and nodded their approval. Pegean, however, wasn't so happy. She had a hand over her heart and looked mortified. "Beer?" she squeaked. "Red meat? Mister Gimli, how long do you expect to live? First of all, any kind of alcohol is bad. Not good, bad. Bad, bad, bad.
"And smoking is bad for you, too!" she cried shrilly. She pried pipes from Gandalf, Aragorn, some of the dwarves and Boromir, who were just bored and needed anything to do. Pegean snuffed them out with a spoon, locked them in a box and put that box into her briefcase. "If you want a lot of problems with your life, and a death soon, go ahead!"
She looked as if the last thing she would ever do was relinquish their pipes. Those who were robbed looked very irked.
She flipped through her briefcase and took out a packet of dorky health brochures. she passed them out around the table, but no one had the slightest inclination of glancing at them.
Sitting back in her chair, Pegean resumed her cheery disposition as if nothing had happened. She looked back at the list and called out the next name : "Mister Legolas, what would you bring on the journey to feed everyone?"
The Health Consultant glanced up from her list and gawked openly at the elf. Legolas reddened. "I would bring lembas, waybread," he stated. He looked down at his plate, disliking people staring at him.
Elrond, still a bit confused, passed her a portion of lembas, which she ate without thinking about it. "This is good!" she said surprised. "Tastes natural and light, kind of like an energy bar!"
Legolas felt sick. He stood and excused himself, saying he needed to take a walk, and bolted out the door.
Pegean called after him in dismay. "Legolas! Wait for me!" She started to get up, but Elrond grasped her arm. "You didn't come here to scare away members of the fellowship like a lovesick orc!" Seeing she was already eyeing someone else, (a tall, dark-haired elf for those who know him) he continued. "You aren't to flirt with those who aren't going either!"
After the Council was done deciding who would take the ring to Mordor, Elrond invited his guests and the newly made Fellowship to a feast. He lead them to the dining room where a large, rectangular table was laden with a wide variety of foods, which everyone couldn't wait to sink their teeth into. But little did they know of what would happen, something that would cause everyone great distress... and hunger.
They had situated themselves around the table in finely carved wooden chairs, when from the door a sophisticated looking woman in her early thirties walked in. Her glossy blonde hair was put up at the back of her head; she wore a white blouse, a gray skirt, black high heels, wire rimmed glasses, and carried a black leather briefcase. She looked as if she was a hippie when she was younger, then grew up to become an accountant, or... something else.
She smiled at the council. "Hello, everyone!" she said brightly. "My name's Pegean (pronounced 'pig-EEn') and I am your Health Consultant." She strode to the head of the table and took a chair next to Elrond, who looked positively bewildered. She placed her briefcase on the table, pushing a plate and goblet away. She took out a clipboard with paper and a pen, and continued. "Now, I understand you have just voted for some people to take a possessed ring to a volcano. That'sgreat, goodforyou. Did you ever once think about your health? That's why I'm designing a diet plan for everyone, so you all can stay healthy and fit on your excursion."
By now, everyone looked around at each other, plainly thinking, Who hired this crazy woman? Pegean took no notice of this behavior. "Now, if you've been selected to go to the volcano, please raise your hand." Nine people reluctantly did so, and the Health Consultant scribbled their names on the paper.
"Right," she went on. "I now must ask each of you what you like to eat, starting with," she glanced at her list, "Mister Frodo Baggins."
Frodo looked nervously at her. "Um, well," he stammered. "I don't cook. I usually eat what Sam cooks for us hobbits."
Pegean scanned her list. "Ah, yes, Mister Samwise Gamgee. What of you?"
"Well, ma'am, we eat a balanced meal in my opinion," Sam stated. "Merry and Pippin like their vegetables, so we get plenty of those. And fish, fish too."
The Health Consultant's eyes lit up. "Great! Fish helps improve brain functions. Ah, and remember: grill over fry!" She got up and paced in her area, rambling on about cholesterol and boring the council into a stupor. She talked so much she didn't notice the hobbit named Pippin taking an envelope from her briefcase and ducking back under the table again.
After ten minutes of talking Pegean plopped down on her chair and took up her list again. "Mister Gimli," she announced. "What do you like to eat?"
"Dwarves are miners naturally," he told her importantly. "So after a hard days work we like to finish the day with a feast. Malt beer, and red meat right off the bone!"
The other dwarves present murmured and nodded their approval. Pegean, however, wasn't so happy. She had a hand over her heart and looked mortified. "Beer?" she squeaked. "Red meat? Mister Gimli, how long do you expect to live? First of all, any kind of alcohol is bad. Not good, bad. Bad, bad, bad.
"And smoking is bad for you, too!" she cried shrilly. She pried pipes from Gandalf, Aragorn, some of the dwarves and Boromir, who were just bored and needed anything to do. Pegean snuffed them out with a spoon, locked them in a box and put that box into her briefcase. "If you want a lot of problems with your life, and a death soon, go ahead!"
She looked as if the last thing she would ever do was relinquish their pipes. Those who were robbed looked very irked.
She flipped through her briefcase and took out a packet of dorky health brochures. she passed them out around the table, but no one had the slightest inclination of glancing at them.
Sitting back in her chair, Pegean resumed her cheery disposition as if nothing had happened. She looked back at the list and called out the next name : "Mister Legolas, what would you bring on the journey to feed everyone?"
The Health Consultant glanced up from her list and gawked openly at the elf. Legolas reddened. "I would bring lembas, waybread," he stated. He looked down at his plate, disliking people staring at him.
Elrond, still a bit confused, passed her a portion of lembas, which she ate without thinking about it. "This is good!" she said surprised. "Tastes natural and light, kind of like an energy bar!"
Legolas felt sick. He stood and excused himself, saying he needed to take a walk, and bolted out the door.
Pegean called after him in dismay. "Legolas! Wait for me!" She started to get up, but Elrond grasped her arm. "You didn't come here to scare away members of the fellowship like a lovesick orc!" Seeing she was already eyeing someone else, (a tall, dark-haired elf for those who know him) he continued. "You aren't to flirt with those who aren't going either!"