A miracle has taken place before your eyes. I have decided to carry on with a story. I have my reasons (one being that it doesn't completely suck). I own none of the characters etcetera etcetera, and whatever else good ol' J.R.'s descendants might whine about. Time to get on with the writing and stuff.
Bilbo sat lazily in his chair (it was rare he sat in any other fashion), and contemplated his demise. Surely it would be in quite a few decades, but he loved being prepared. He would die quietly in his bed, roses (thornless, of course) in hand and his "I Love Orlando Bloom" pillow at head. He sniffled a bit, thinking that he might be missed, or that maybe one of his relatives might steal his precious home. He sat up in his chair, a lovely idea crossing his mind, when a rap at the door echoed through his halls. He eased to his feet and wobbled to the door, humming a bright little song to himself as he went along. He opened it, a hobbitish grin on his pudgy face. The grin sagged into a confused frown as he saw the guest was not at all Mr. Ganolfski, but instead, two round little fellows, beards near as long as the wizard's.
"Lollin and Stalin at your service," said the one with a red cape. Slightly disturbed by the second name, although he knew not why, Bilbo offered to take the cloak, but was refused. The dwarves kept them tightly wrapped about their bodies. Bilbo sat them down with a few party cakes (compliments of the Food Channel) and was about to get one for himself when the door was knocked on again. He rushed to it and raised an eyebrow as the next pair of dwarves trotted in, huffing and puffing. The shorter bowed and introduced them as Bili and Wili. They hung on to their cloaks as well, and hurried to the rest of the guests. In the next half-hour or so, nine more dwarves came to his doorstep, and nine more entered his little hole. Their names were as such: Bori, Sori, Kori, Doin, Floin, Snifor, Whiffor, Thorin and Mary-Lou. Mary-Lou was a male, just for common knowledge and those that don't catch on too quickly. Gandalfski was soon there, and all were merry-making. Each was ranting and laughing and generally being far more boisterous than any party Bilbo had ever seen, when Bili turned about and looked at Bilbo, a good nudge at his ribs.
"Well, chap, where's the pool?" The rest seconded little Bili's query and looked expectantly at the poor hobbit. Bilbo flushed, angered and startled. Only he and a few others knew of his Olympic-sized pool complete with water slide.
"I uh, um…" He could not refuse a request, but surprised himself by leading the fourteen to his pool. They all jumped in, splashing and diving and using his slide. This was the reason for keeping cloaks, you see, because it's impolite to dine in one's trunks. Bilbo shrugged and ran to his dressing room, returning quickly to the lot. The air grew still with silence as they all stared at Bilbo. He looked around wildly.
"What?" The hobbit sniffled, looking down at his pink and flower-print one-piece swimsuit. He had always considered Bikinis a bit too showing. "I think it's pretty."
Despite the chuckles of others, he fitted on a swim cap and waded into the water. The dwarves and wizard began to play about again, and Bilbo joined in. At last, they got out, thick skin wrinkled. They sat about in a circle, discussing marvelous things that made the hobbit's stomach twirl. He vomited as they suggested using him as a burglar, but he was soon condoled by Gandalfski. They would set off in the morning. But one thing still pressed Bilbo. At last, he found himself curious enough to ask.
"How did you know I had a pool?" Sori answered him.
"Why, Pool Party was scribbled on your door. How couldn't you have?" Bilbo looked abashed and got up, heading for bed.
"Good night." He was then off to brush his teeth and wiggle into Barbie pajamas.
Yes, the ending sucked. It's not likeI askedyou to read it. Oh well.Time for the interesting things to start happening… (cackles) C'mon, fishy. Take the bate.