Pippin is a gateway hobbit. Soon, you find yourself wondering, 'why not Merry...just this once.' Then you find yourself passed out in a dark corner, rubbing your temples furiously, trying to figure out who slipped you that Sam. When before you know it, you're working a street corner, doing awful things you never knew existed, being paid in Frodo. And then you're done. No going back. Doing favors for men in black suits and sun glasses. They hand you an envelope, and you deliver it to wherever they tell you, no questions asked. When you show up at the abandoned building covered in graffiti, and a shadowy figure accepts the envelope and gives you another in return, you begin to shudder. The figure tosses you some Bilbo, pinches your cheek, and calls you a 'cute kid', saying 'something for your trouble'. That's when it hits you. No amount of hobbit-rehab will ever be enough. But you realize, you don't want to give it up. None of it. Even now that you have become so tolerant, that hardly enough Pippin can be bought to sustain your need. You're so hopelessly lost, even Fredegar is worth dying for. You wonder what has become of your family, and your friends. They talk about you as if you're a blemish on the family name, but you know you are. They never understood. They tried to get you onto safer, legal species'. 'Legolas is just as much fun, but safer!' they would plead. No. Nothing can give you the same feeling as Merry does. 'Aragorn won't give you such a headache the next day...please!' Frodo is worth the headache. An empty room, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Bilbo, and yes, even Fredegar, is all you need. But then you find the interaction is deadly. And as you see yourself, through the transcendental eye, lying on the floor, surrounding by the short, pudgy, fuzzy footed creatures, you wonder if it was all worth it.