The Three (or so) Hunters
The epic story of the Lord of the Coffee continues after the Cup of the Fellowship is broken, and NescaFrodo and Sanka depart toward Mordonut to destroy the CoffeeRing. The rest of the Fellowship are sundered, the half-caffs being kidnapped by unfriendlies and the Elf, Man, and Dwarf left with a dead companion. They hastily cover him with old coffeegrounds and hurry to rescue their little friends. They must, you see, for the half-caffs have on them their punchcards for a free grandé mocha at StarBrandyBucks. And now, on with the story...
Aromagorn, Legolatté, and Gemli began running after the gobblings who had abducted MochaMerry and Drippin. Such was their desire to recover their dear companions that they only stopped long enough to partake a cup or two of instant coffee. Now, that is true friendship!
Gemli ran as fast as he could, but as a dwarf his legs were somewhat less in length than the legs of his companions. He fell behind quickly, causing Legolatté to pause frequently and urge him to hurry up. As if he was dawdling on purpose! After the fifth such harangue, he lost his temper.
This was ridiculous! Gemli watched his long-legged friends disappear into ahead around a corner, then he stopped, puffing. Looking around and seeing no one, he rapped on the side of a rock and spoke a phrase in Khaffee-doodle, the secret language of Dwarves. A door appeared magically and he jumped inside before it slammed shut, just before Legolatté popped his head back around the corner of the rocks he and Aromagorn had disappeared behind.
"Where is the dwarf?" asked Aromagorn.
"He's gone!" exclaimed Legolatté, going back to where he had last seen the dwarf standing. There was nothing there but rocks. The dwarf's heavy boot prints simply stopped as if he had vanished into thin air.
"Hurry up there, you two!" Startled the Elf and Man turned and saw that Gemli was suddenly in front of them, sitting on a rock and munching on a donut. "We are in a hurry, aren't we?" he asked sarcastically.
"How did he get ahead of us?" asked Aromagorn.
"Perhaps he has been taking wizard lessons," retorted Legolatté.
They ran to the place where they had seen the Dwarf, but he was gone when they arrived. He appeared suddenly far ahead, a small hairy spec on the horizon, waving and shouting. "Get a move on, you lazy mugs!"
Legolatté and Aromagorn ran and ran, but they could not keep up with the Dwarf. He would always disappear and reappear ahead of them, sometimes leaving hot cups of coffee for his lagging companions with some of his signature cinnamon rolls. Thus they crossed the land of Yuban.
At last they came panting up to the Dwarf, sitting beside a blazing fire warming his feet and toasting coffeebeans on a stick. Both Elf and Man were covered with sweat, gasping to catch their breath. Gemli was laughing at them. "You two are sweating like pigs."
"Elves do not sweat... they glisten," retorted Legolatté.
"Whatever," said Gemli. "While you two were dragging your feet, I found this place. You will notice that the fire is fueled by gobblings and horcs. MerryMocha and Drippin have run into the forest of Cremehorn, though they were warned not to. The silly drips!"
"How... how did you get so far ahead of us," asked Aromagorn, when he could talk again.
Gemli glanced around to make sure no one was nearby listening. "The Dwarven Underground Railroad," whispered the Dwarf conspiratorially.
"The Dwarven Underground?" said Legolatté in surprise. "I thought that was a political movement!"
"Why did you not get us all tickets," asked Aromagorn angrily.
"What, and waste all that South Island footage? I wouldn't dream of ruining the NZ tourist trade like that. Besides, we still would have been late. This heap is a day old." Gemli stood up and hefted his axe. "Come on, let's..." he began to say, then his eyes bugged out and he stared past them, pointing mutely back the direction they had come from.
A single figure appeared on the horizon, running at a strange pace. He was too far away to be seen clearly by Gemli or Aromagorn, but they could tell he was walking five steps and then suddenly running the next five, then slowing down for five steps again, then jogging. As he loped thus closer, Legolatté exclaimed in shock, "'Tis Boromocha! How can this be? He was dead as doornail!"
Boromocha jogged-walked-jogged up to them, lightly perspiring (princes of Gondaroma do not sweat, either). "Ah, caught up with you at last!" he said, and began to stretch his legs. He was somewhat hindered by the three arrows still sticking out of his chest.
"Boromocha!" exclaimed Aromagorn. "Thou art not dead!"
"Can't sneak one past the heir of Isillydur, can we?" said Boromocha to the Elf and Dwarf. "Of course I am not dead! This is just a flesh wound! I say, do you think you could..." he gestured to the protruding arrow-shafts. Aromagorn grabbed one and yanked it out. "Ouch! Thanks! I am lucky you guys did not put me in a boat and shove me over the waterfall! When you (ouch! Easy, 'Gorny!) covered me over with coffeegrounds, the caffeine seeped down into me and reawoke my will to live. I just (ouch!) feel a little jittery. Do you have any brownies?"
"This is amazing," said Gemli. "But we are no closer to our goal. Where are the half-caffs? Where are the Men who slaughtered the gobblings? Where are our horses and what do we do next?"
"Maybe we should ask that wizard over there," said Legolatté, pointing.
"Gandgulp!" shouted the three... I mean, four hunters.
"Doesn't anyone ever stay dead in this story?" grumbled Aromagorn.