Disclaimer : the characters belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the framework to Geoffrey Chaucer. I hope it's not too confusing. Good reading. Reviews, please ! Héhé, spéciale dédicace pour Nathalie en souvenir des Utopiales .

The Psychotic Hobbit's Tale

Saruman cast a sharp glance at his fellow wizard:

"I will not lose my time looking your face haggard,

While you listen to those stupid talks,

That make you as silly as your hawks!"

The wizard had snarled his discourse to Gandalf's nose,

But the latter in great wise to stay calm he chose.

"So, dear Saruman, I will no more importunate thee,

Pray let some member of the company

A tale of his, or her taste, tell.

Ladies and gents who in silence dwell,

Who among you wants to begin?"

"Can I? Can I?" cried an ecstatic Pippin,

His elvish cloak wrapped around his head.

"Don't you know the Shire I fled?

Oh, you may say I am a fool,

But there I was restrained and people were cruel."

To that statement, his greatest friend Merry reacted:

"What did you say? Weren't you overprotected?

Weren't you allowed to tread upon Old Proudfeet's toes?

Weren't you allowed to loot sweet Rosie's tomatoes?

Do you regret having damaged Sam's crops?

Do you regret having ransacked the villagers' shops?

Have you ever wondered why you were so tolerated?

Have you ever tried to have your behaviour prospected?"

Pippin offered the image of a mortified Hobbit,

Whom a fellow hunter had stolen his stuffed rabbit.

With bulging eyes and gasping breath,

The halfling seemed ready to meet his death.

But, recovering his spirits, he shouted:

"Will you shut up, you stinky curled-haired mole?

What are you talking about? And you all..."

Pippin, his hand designating the gathering,

Was stopped in his movement by a ringing.

"Won't you tell us your bloody story?"

Snarled the fierce-looking Samwise Gamgee.

Merry echoed: "I'm fed up with your pseudo-offences!

You can't do anything except talking to pixies,

Scraping wild-boar's bellies and whispering to the moon!

If you go on this way you'll turn an elf soon,

We true Hobbits expect from you more dignity!

Instead of whining, reach posterity!

Why don't you simply eat, drink and laugh?

It is no need licking athelas and cough!"

Merry paused. His fellow was foaming with rage.

"Do you think yourself on stage,

Performing some ill-played drama?

I've always said you were too spoilt by your mamma.

Stop spitting your failed incisive cues,

And let me expose my own views."

Pippin observed closely the audience,

And in a mysterious tone of voice,

He said, putting his cloak around his shoulders:

"I'm a bat! A proud green bat living over boulders!"

The merry company uttered a common "Whoaaat?"

Pippin insisted eagerly: "Yes, I'm a green bat,

That's why I fled the Shire! No one understood

How does it feel to be different, wearing a hood,

So that the crude sunlight does not hurt your eyes,

So that your brain is kept safe from curious flies!

In the Shire, people treated me like a crank,

Though I claimed I was a natural swank!

Oh, no, don't be mistaken by those words,

I'm not saying I love boasting like birds,

Only I am proud of my cavernous roots!

My brothers bats don't have to wear boots,

-well err, neither need Hobbits I know-

They can fly in the sky high or on the ground low,

They don't have to find ideas of presents

For some silly neighbour who your presence resents,

And, what I enjoy most, they can see at night!

For my fellows if a wandering bee is in sight,

Then it'd better pray before meeting a bat's gut.

Oh, to be honest I'd like to live in a hut.

Well, it's not precisely bat-like,

But it is an experience I wouldn't dislike.

Thinking about it, I wonder if I am not..."

"Aaaaaah! Stop it, Pippin!" shouted Merry. "Or change your spot!

You are the most exhausting person I have to endure!

If only you could be more mature!"

Pippin, deeply vexed, spread his green wings,

And, flapping frantically, left with some shrill singings.

"Tss, go away, ungrateful false friend!

With your kind I no longer want to blend!"