A/N; Thanks to my reviewers as always! I have just finished reading a very long piece on Fictionpress, and I will pick up a coupleof your stories this week.

Not much to say here, but I always did really hate Beorn. Oh well, I'm kind of getting even with him.

Disclaimer: I am watching out for the hatchet that is coming from the Tolkien Estate!

Chapter 7: Queer Lodging

The next morning the party woke and had their morning smokes and free meal. Again Bilbo got thrown into that dream where he was drowning in the Black Sea. The dwarves were just happy. Free meals and interesting special import tobacco tended to do that. For Gandalf, on the other hand, it took a little more to bring the wizard absolute joy, but there was nothing there was nothing there for his zapping pleasure. The dwarves and hobbit were otherwise occupied to care if he zapped them or not. So, the Lord of the Eagles took him out on the hunt so that he might enjoy himself in zapping up some breakfast. All the appropriate bloodshed did much to relieve the wizard's need. After breakfast and the morning talk shows, the eagles took Gandalf, the dwarves and the hobbit to Carrock, where they were to meet one of Gandalf's good buddies.

Gandalf wanted the dwarves to make a slow invasion, so that his buddy could come up with a most inventive way of cooking thirteen dwarves. Gandalf went first with Bilbo, who he tied a convenient noose around his neck. The wizard dragged the hobbit through the mud and soil, which totally delighted the disgusting little creature to no end until he hit a rock or root and got stuck. The wizard stopped when he encountered an eight-foot tall man. Beorn, Gandalf's good buddy, swung a rather sizeable ax at him. Friendly greetings. Gandalf set Beorn's underwear on fire. Friendly greetings back.

"Good day, Beorn. I am here on the behalf of some friends of mine that I had hoped would have perished before we reached your humble abode, but there is always Mirkwood. So, in hopes of them finding a more slow and appropriate end, we came to ask your help to get them into Mirkwood."

"Maybe I will assist you, but convince me of your intentions toward these fellows are truly of a most hideous nature," the big man replied in a high pitched squeaky feminine voice.

"Let me tell you a tale of so many unsuccessful killings, resulting in other successful and gorified deaths."

"Do tell!" he squealed.

As Gandalf told a tale with such exaggerated gore, which would make the most bloodthirsty ogre sick and swear off of meat, the dwarves skipped around Beorn whistling "Heigh Ho!" They promenaded through the disgusting graphic tale, and when the tale was done, they all plopped down on the ground.

"An absolute sanguinary tale! The best I've heard in a long time. I've become excessively hungry! Let's eat!" Beorn suggested, not even caring that he had thirteen more gusts and Bombur had yet again shared his centerfold of Bertha with him. The big man smiled and shared his centerfold of the self same troll in another provocative position. The fat dwarf was delighted.

"Let's eat!" exclaimed Bilbo, who never missed a meal.

They all entered Beorn's house (the hobbit first of all, of course). They all took their seats around a hand carved ivory table. Beorn handed them each a menu that read on the outside "Le Albator- where you literally pay an arm and a leg for dinner!" Opening the menu, it read:

Roast Dwarf...one ear, three toes

Roast Hobbit...one arm, two legs

Roast Troll...two arms, two legs, one nose

Roast Goblin...one hand

Roast Wizard...fourteen lives

Poached Wolf...two fingers

Poached Goblin...one hand

Poached Dwarf...one half of a leg

Poached Hobbit...one arm, one leg

Tossed Goblin Salad...one ear

Tossed Dwarf Salad...two ears, one nose

French Fried Wizard Toes...twenty-one lives

French Fried Goblin Feet...one eye, one ear, eight toes

French Fried Fricasseed Goblin Toes...one eye, one ear

French Fried Fricasseed Wolf Tails...one ear

Charbroiled Goblin Burger...one leg

Chabroiled Wolf Burger...one leg

Boiled Goblin Brain...five heads, two legs

(only if in season)

Les Boissons

Wizard's Blood...fourteen lives

Goblins's Blood...two ears

Troll's Blood...two ears, one hand

Hobbit's Blood...one eye, two legs, two arms

All meals are nonnegotiable

Lives must be taken in the restaurant

No Credit Card Accepted

Meals must be paid in full upon receiving

Bon Apetit!

Beorn smiled. "Since your host told such a delightful blood-filled story, all your meals are on the house," the big man announced, who was still caught up in the overflowing joy of the pain suffering and splatter of Gandalf's tale, and he hoped that such a tale was true. His restaurant needed new supplies and he could get some free picking from the gory mess that the party left behind.

So, the dwarves and the hobbit pigged out so much that Beorn wished he had never offered the free meals. He did not know to what extent a hobbit could eat, and especially this particular hobbit.

Beorn left the house at nightfall to do his midnight prowling. How do you think he kept the restaurant so well supplied other than the normal payments that he received? He found the pickings good and easy. Gandalf had stirred up the goblin quite well. He found part of Gandalf's messy tale was almost true. He returned home in the best of moods. He was so cheerful in fact that he added a new item to his menu called "Mixed Goblin and Wolf Giblets" that he promptly tried out on the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard. They got all that they could eat, and then there was some to spare. He also gave the party plenty of supplies for their journey through Mirkwood.

The company left that day at Gandalf's insistence. The stay had appropriately fattened them up, and it was making tempting pickings for Beorn, but Gandalf wanted them for his own pot. The wizard won the game of rock, paper, scissors. So, Gandalf paused the party at the entrance of Mirkwood. He waved a hearty 'Bye Now!' to them.

"I regret to inform you that I will not be going with you into that lovely woods. It does my heart wrong to know that I cannot degut you in the forest and leave you for the worms and my special friends. Kind of think of it, they would eat you without degutment (and would prefer it that you had all your guts), but I do so enjoy a good degutting!"

"Pleasant! It is good not to have you along anymore. Now we may have a fighting chance," remarked Bombur, who was the fattest among the dwarves, and Gandalf's mouth had been watering for a well-roasted dwarf for quite some time. Bombur had to squirm enough to get away from Beorn, and Gandalf would hate to lose such a healthy prize to anyone or anything else, but the stress of the forest would tenderize the meat all the better. It made him kind of sad to think that he might lose Bombur to the creatures of the forest, but one must do what one must do.

"Oh, never fret, my dear fat Bombur. I'll be back for you and that overly plump hobbit. I'll be back before you know it! I do hope my dear friend has his good old fashion cook book on cooking dwarves!" answered Gandalf, as he popped out. The dwarves immediately had a party.