Chapter Seven: They're Coming!

The Magical Hobs soon reached the village of Beer, and approached the giant gate. Frodo pounded on it several times, and it was opened by some geezer who resembled the old hag in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

"What do you want?"

"Um... to come inside. Why else would I be standing out here?" Frodo answered.

The gatekeeper reluctantly opened up the gate and the four Magical Hobs went through. They were now in the village of Beer, and had ended up in a dark scary street that was full of hobos, lunatics, hicks, drug dealers, and a lot of people that were in serious need of a bath.

"This place is full of dirty people," Frodo commented, pointing at a group of people that were in serious need of a bath.

"Yarr... I've got a carrot!" exclaimed a filthy man, who was standing around gnawing on a carrot. Farmer Maggot suddenly appeared out of nowhere, screamed, "RARGH!" and snatched the carrot away. The filthy man started to cry, but suddenly spotted an old shoe on the ground and began gnawing on it instead.

The Magical Hobs wandered into the first inn they saw, which happened to be called The Frolicking Elf. They went up to the counter and a weird man popped up and said, "Hello there! I'm a European plant with large kidney shaped leaves!"

"WHAT!" the Hobs cried in confusion.

"No, actually my name is Butterbur!" the man said. He looked at Frodo. "What's your name?"

"Um...Smith. Or Smithy, if ye like," he answered.

"Sorry, that's Captain Jack Sparrow's excuse, I'm not buying it."

"Uh, Strider!"

"Aragorn's excuse."

"Neville Longbottom!"

"Harry Potter's excuse."

"Dernhelm!"

Butterbur yawned. "Eowyn's excuse. Hurry up, I don't have all day."

"Uh, Underhill?"

"Sounds original. Works for me!"

"Have you seen Gandalf the Grey lately?" Frodo asked Butterbur.

"Gandalf... Gandalf... Oh yes, he's my ex-boyfriend from college! Nope, haven't seen him." Butterbur then led the Hobs into the common room, where they sat down amid all of the scary looking people.

"WE LOVE YOU, FRODO!" screamed various Magical Hobs with the surname of Underhill.

"EEK! Who are you people!" Frodo cried in alarm. He hid underneath the table.

Sam kicked him. "Mr. Frodo, get out from under there!" Frodo reluctantly scurried out into the open and sat crouched down in his seat.

"Guess what, guys!" said Pippin. "I just learned what a pint is! Aren't you so proud of me!" Everyone looked disturbed and said nothing. "I'm so ignored..." Pippin whined.

"Then get drunk with us so you can blab about your friend!" suggested various weird people.

"Okay!" said Pippin.

"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived," commented Sam, pointing at a mysterious filthy man who sat in the corner.

Frodo giggled. "I guess he finds me attractive."

"What!" cried Sam. "Nobody's allowed to find Mr. Frodo attractive! Er, not that I'm jealous! My heart belongs to Rosie!"

"Sam, you're confusing me," Frodo said. He chugged a glass of ale and ordered another. And another. And another.

"Rargh, I am so menacing and filthy!" commented the mysterious filthy man in the corner.

Frodo finished drinking his fourth mug and felt like having a fifth. He reached across the table and grabbed Sam's.

"That was mine, Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried.

"Oh. Well, I'm just going to go order my own then." Frodo stumbled out of his seat and staggered across the room. "The tater jumped over the moon!" he sang deliriously to himself. "Speaking of taters..." He grabbed the One Tater out of his pocket, took a bite, and then passed out.

"Well that wasn't good," Sam commented. He looked around and saw that everyone in the room was far too intoxicated to notice that Frodo had turned invisible. Well, except the filthy man in the corner, but he wasn't important.

After a few minutes, Frodo came to his senses and spat out the bite of tater. He soon reappeared, grabbed his tater, and tucked it into his pocket.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the arm and carried him away. "Gotcha!"

"MR. FRODOOOOOOOO!" Sam cried distressedly.

Frodo looked at his captor and squealed, "Who are you?"

"I'm Rangerdude!" the unhygienic looking stranger said. "Taking a bite out of that tater was extremely stupid! Don't do it again."

Frodo pretended innocence. "Tater? What tater?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

Suddenly, Sam, Merry, and Pippin burst into the room. "DON'T YOU DARE MOLEST MR. FRODO!" Sam screamed.

"Um, yeah, what he said!" Pippin yelled.

Merry looked down at the ground. "Hey, a carrot!" he was then distracted and picked it up.

"What could you possibly do to me? You're just a fat Hob," said Rangerdude.

"Why does everyone always call me fat?" Sam complained.

Rangerdude did not answer. He suddenly tensed up and screamed, "THEY'RE COMING!"

"Who's coming?" Frodo asked.

"They!" said Rangerdude.

"Who's they?"

"They're coming!"

"Who's coming?"

"They're coming!"

"WHO'S COMING!"

"Just hide!"

"I like hide-and-seek!" squeaked Frodo.

"This isn't hide-and-seek, you idiot! Now get into the next room!" Rangerdude hurriedly ushered the Magical Hobs into hiding, and there they waited.

Five Tater Wraiths suddenly burst in, each one holding some sort of device. "Mwahaha! With these Tater Detectors, we shall find that tater and bring it to our master!"

They went all over the room, but nobody's Tater Detector went off. One Tater Wraith looked at his curiously. "Are you guys sure that these things work?"

"Of course they do!" another Wraith replied. "That scary looking guy named Bill Ferny promised that they would work!"

"Well, we did buy them for an extremely cheap price," the first Wraith muttered.

"And you can never trust cheap products!" a third Wraith yelled. "Especially ones made by dwarves!"

"Hey! I resent that!" yelled a random dwarf.

The Tater Wraiths at last gave up on their fruitless search, got onto their giant walking french fries, and rode away.

Rangerdude and the Magical Hobs came out of hiding. "Yippee, we win!" cried Frodo. "Those stupid Wraiths don't know how to play hide-and-seek."

Suddenly, Butterbur burst into the room without knocking. "I've got a letter! I've a letter!" He started to dance around stupidly.

"Who's it for?" Frodo asked.

"I've got a letter!

"Yes, but who's it for!"

"A letter! A letter! I've got a letter!"

"Gimme that!" Frodo snatched the envelope and took out the letter. "It's for me."

Butterbur burst into tears. "You stole my letter!" He ran away and slammed the door.

"Good riddance," Frodo muttered. He then read his letter, which said:

Dear Frodo,

The village of Beer is not safe (though they do have good beer). You must leave, along with a man named Rangerdude, but make sure he really is Rangerdude. The real Rangerdude has body odor that can be smelled from across a room, and his hair gives off grease that puddles on the ground. He may be filthy, but his dirtiness will help save your life. I think.

Sincerely, Gandalf

After reading the letter, Frodo studied Rangerdude. He saw that there was a small puddle underneath him, of what appeared to be grease. But Frodo had one more test to make. He retreated to the far end of the room and sniffed the air. A foul smell reached his nose, causing him to gag, and he knew that it came from Rangerdude.

"We have to get out of here," Rangerdude said. "Now pack up and leave!"

"I don't want to go! This place has pints!" whined Pippin.

Rangerdude dragged the Magical Hobs outside. "So what? We're leaving now!"

Suddenly, a really ugly man named Bill Ferny popped out of a bush and said, "Bah!"

Frodo stared at him. "Wow! You're even uglier than my relative Lotho!"

"Which is saying something!" Pippin added.

Bill Ferny looked at Rangerdude. "Wanna buy a pretty horsey?" He gestured at a horse, that appeared to be on the verge of death and was as almost as hideous as his owner.

Rangerdude shuddered. "That thing's ugly and it's dying! I can get something way better in Horseyland!"

As soon as Sam saw the horse, his eyes bugged out of his head and his breath caught in his throat. He gasped and smiled, and was in a state of complete rapture. He flung himself at the horse and wrapped his arms around it in a tight hug. "This is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life!"

The others stared at Sam in complete shock. He obviously needed to get his eyes checked.

Bill Ferny shoved the horse away. "Sold!"

"Hey, who said I was buying that thing?" Rangerdude protested.

Sam looked up at Rangerdude with pleading, tear-filled eyes. "Please, Mr. Rangerdude! Please buy him!"

"Oh, all right." Rangerdude grudgingly pulled some coins out of his pocket and tossed them at Bill Ferny, who promptly disappeared back into his bush.

"Oh thank you, Mr. Rangerdude!" Sam cried. He gave his new animal an affectionate hug. "I'll name him Bill!" And thus Bill the Pony joined their party.

Note: I somehow found the word "butterbur" in the dictionary and it said that it's a European plant with large kidney shaped leaves! Hahahaha! I crack myself up. Which is sad.