THE NEED FOR A BAND-AID

After dinner Trotter settled down in the library/museum for a peaceful perusal of his favorite novel, "The King Must Die". Halfway through he was interuppted.

INTERUPPTION: Hi. I'm Boromir, SOn of Denethor son of Ecthelion son of...

ARAGORN: Pardon?

BOROMIR: I'm the Steward of Gondor's son. What's ya reading? "The King Must Die"...not a bad title, is it good?

ARAGORN: Yes. Look, I'm trying to read, would you mind not talking to me right now?

BOROMIR: A recluse! A hermit! A—hey, is that a broken sword?

Boromir started playing with the hilt while Aragorn looked on in annoyance.

BOROMIR: This sword has alot of history, you know.

ARAGORN: I ought to know, it belonged to my greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreat-greatgreat great...

Aragorn stopped when he saw the look in Boromir's face.

ARAGORN: What's wrong?

BOROMIR: I just cut my finger! I need Elvish medicine! Elrond!!!! Somebody get me a band-aid!

Boromir ran from the room wailing.