Elendor
(Archive) Dinner with the Gaffer
Some hobbits get together at the Gamgee residence.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Gaffer's Hole, Hobbiton, The Shire
Description:
What
Hobbiton folks gather at the Gaffer's hole for dinner.
Who
Pippin Took (#30066)...............Samwise Gamgee, Hamfast Gamgee
Filby Pott (#29680)................Imfer Rumble
Reginald Bolger (#10657)...........Gabbo Biggs
Slago Goodbody (#17818)............himself
Folco Boffin (#28450)..............Frodo Baggins
Bodobrus Took (#17065).............himself
Riflo Proudfoot (#3470)............Fammer Gamgee
Lotho Sackville-Baggins (#18781)...Mabrada Bracegirdle
Paladin Took (#22742)..............Lodinar Took
The Gaffer's Hole
As you close the door behind you a warm breeze from the fire comforts you. Everything speaks of simple, rustic, comfort. Two freshly painted round windows, with flower boxes, let a steady stream of light into the Main Hole. Well worn, but colorful, rugs adorn the floors in rusty reds and dark greens. On the wall are some family paintings--and there is a particularly prominent one of the Gaffer, looking astute and holding a pipe. At the sooty black fireplace is a huge dark wooden table with comfy seats around it, which all look as if they've had many a bottom on them. A huge checkered sofa stands to the right wall.
To the east there is the entrance to the well-appointed kitchen. The tea-kettle whistles in the kitchen loudly, and the aroma of boiled taters can be smelled.
In the corner stand some crates of pipeweed with labels on it saying: Ol'Toby, Longbottom, Southern Star.
The Gamgees are happy with any visitor, sit back and make yourself at home...
Samwise Gamgee (also played the Gaffer
A hobbit of pleasantly stout proportions, Samwise Gamgee stands before you. His bright little rusty-brown eyes shine merrily out of his well tanned, and rather friendly face. There is a hint of a burn around his nose and cheeks. A slightly large, but certainly not bulbous, nose rests impartially under his eyes and give him what would be deemed character. Freckles dot his cheeks, his nose, and even his chin. His lips, the top one a good deal thinner than the lower, are a healthy pink and drawn back in a brilliant grin over a set of very white, but not particularly straight, teeth. In fact, the front two teeth seem to be gapped, but then--on closer inspection, it's evident that one has grown in on an angle, creating an odd sort of shadow. Topping it all off is a mane of rather haphazardly combed curls, which are russet-red.
Dressed for his station, Samwise still carries himself very well. His long brown fingers are hooked in his thick leather belt, which also has a pair of bright red suspenders attached to it--stitched with a yellow cross-hatch design. A thick material makes up his dark brown shirt, which has long sleeves that look a bit too long for his arms, which he rolls up at the ends. A pair of woolen britches, with large, deep pockets, fit comfortably over his very hairy legs. His feet, which are slightly stained with dust and grime, are covered with a semi-well kept patch of fur. On top of his head sits a floppy old grey hat, more of a cap really, that adds to the humble air about him.
Slago Goodbody
A short pudgy hobbit stands before you. He is rather tall for a hobbit but you could never tell by his weight. His curly brown hair and piercing brown eyes are hidden under his bright red hat. On his body, is a blue shirt and a pair of orange trousers. On his shirt, a little pin sticks out, it reads "Eastfarthing Shirriff". Sticking out of his bright red hat is a little green feather showing that he truly is a Shirriff.
Imfer Rumble
Imfer Rumble is a gardener and carpenter, and this shows in his old, soiled clothes. His faded green shirt is covered with sawdust and his pants stained with dirt. He is a ragged figure, except for his neatly-combed black hair under his patched, pointed hat. Imfer's face is chubby and sun-tanned, and his mouth smiles cheerily.
Fammer Gamgee
Before you is a hobbit, standing somewhere between 3 feet and 2 and a half. His curly brown hair is neatly combed back on his head, with a part down the middle. Between his large rosy nose, and similarly colored cheeks, are his bright brown eyes.
He wears a simple garb, though together in whole it looks very finely made. A plain white shirt begins the suit, covered over by a green cloth vest with a pocket on either side. For pants, he wears a pair of black trousers, neatly ironed with creases on either side. A thin leather belt loops through the pant's top.
Gabbo Biggs (Reginald Bolger)
With wide glistening eyes of almond this hobbit peers forth at the world about him from under a drooping lock of light brown hair. The twinkling in his iris and the set of his rosey-red lips in a continual smirk might suggest that this hobbit possesses an insatiable curiosity. There is a naive air about this fellow, despite the fact that he's reached his plump middle-ages. Currently he is wearing a rather puffy red coat with painted gold buttons. The heavily padded garment reaches down to his knees, serving well to ward off the cold.
Mabrada Bracegirdle
An old and fat hobbit matron wearing a garish magenta gown and a bright yellow scarf. Her behind sticks out so far it is possible one could balance a teacup there. Her hair is excessively curly and clings to her head, and a smile is practically plastered onto her face.
Her hands are plump and callous, and a clever eye might notice a few small cuts and scratches on her hands and arms. She wears a large white apron with several small pouches, lined in rows. Upon her head is perched a rather peculiar hat, with rows of eggs nestled in brass rings. Her appearance suggests that of a fowl raiser.
The Story
Ah, the lovely comforts of a good down-country home! The distinct essence of taters and garlic, mingled with the salty smell of meat (perhaps pork) drifts through the air. Some clattering is heard from the direction of the kitchen, and some loud whistling. The inside of Bagshot Row, number 3, however, is extremely warm and accomodating. Seats, well used of course, seem to beckon weary derriers to their comfort. One must imagine, looking at the simple hominess of this place, that certainly, many people are welcome.
In a tall rocking chair, which creaks and cracks on the floor boards, sits the Gaffer, comfortably smoking his pipe. He looks distinguished, somehow, in his neat attire--certainly nothing fancy (goodness knows, he'd never agree to the wastin good money on clothes!) of course. His eyes, dark brown and warm, flit up as he puts his pipe to his mouth. "Come on then, Sammy!" he calls in the direction of the kitchen--his voice, a higher, rougher version of his son's--"Come now, I think I ken hear 'em guests a'comin' in!"
A knock sounds at the door, and a rather gravelly voice sounds outside. "'Allo, anyone home? It's me, Imfer! Y'know, the feller from down the Row?" Before anyone answers the round entrance opens wide and the young Rumble steps in, a wide (though not very smart) smile on his face and a jar of something-or-other under his arm. He closes the door quickly and removes an old coat and hat. "Colder than a Long Cleeve outhouse t'day, I swear." Imfer bows to the Gaffer and stands to the side of the smial, expectant and eager, taking deep breaths and savouring the delicious aromas wafting out of the kitchen.
Frowning slightly, his chin falling down to his chest, the Gaffer looks up at Imfer with measuring eyes. There is a moment of silence. Then, the old Gamgee lets out a little laugh, and waves over to a chair. "Yes, yes, 'course! Go sit down now, Imfie, I tell ya--it ain't right fer no hobbits to be runnin' around out there. Got your head full o'taters, you do, I'm sure! Now, now, now, but I can't say, of course. Y'see, ol' Sam o'mine, he insisted like on havin' this here gettin' together an' all... so, might glad yer still here, at any rate." The Gaffer, a hard hobbit in most respects, doesn't exactly make it sound like he's happy to have Imfer in--but then again, he doesn't sound excited either. His wit is indeed difficult to read. "Where the food is, the crows come, I always say... so, sit, be comfortable, Rumble-lad."
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, now, out o' that snow!"
Gabbo comes through the door from outside.
Gabbo has arrived.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, everbody come in!"
Slago comes through the door from outside.
Slago has arrived.
With wide glistening eyes of almond this hobbit peers forth at the world about him from under a drooping lock of light brown hair. The twinkling in his iris and the set of his rosey-red lips in a continual smirk might suggest that this hobbit possesses an insatiable curiosity. There is a naive air about this fellow, despite the fact that he's reached his plump middle-ages. Currently he is wearing a rather puffy red coat with painted gold buttons. The heavily padded garment reaches down to his knees, serving well to ward off the cold
Slago walks in from the Blustery cold chilled to the bone and developing a slight cough, "Good evening Gaffer, How are you this cold and blustery day?"
Frodo comes through the door from outside.
Frodo has arrived.
"Loverly, loverly," mutters the Gaffer, his wrinkled eyes widening under folds of flesh. Yet, they twinkle. "Good to see so many hobbits 'a comin' in out'a the rain." Tapping his pipe on the table beside him, he turns his greying head over his shoulder, and yells in the direction of the kitchen. "Come now, Sammy! You've got yer guests all waitin' out here!" To his guests, he manages a jovial smile, "Now just put yer jackets and mittens and such on the pegs--and do sit down, and be comfortable. There's plenty fer all!"
Gabbo bustles into the hole, rubbing his hands together furiously. His unprotected face has been turned a bright red formt he cold. "Oooh, chilly!" He excalims, making sure the door is properly shut behind all the newcomers. A smile forms on his face as he peers around at everyone. "Why hallo Master Gamgee." The bright-eyed hobbit declares approaching thei rhost. "I just happened to look outside, and what did I see but several huddled figures lined up in front of your door. So of course I thought you might be havving a little gathering. I hope I'm not intruding?" Politeness seem to come natrually to him.
Ducking his head in first, Frodo Baggins steps into the cozy confines of #3 Bagshot Row. A warm smile paints his face and he seems to look quite at home in the tiny abode. Frodo is dressed warmly, and in his arms is a thick bundle. He takes a moment to wipe the snow from his feet, "Good morning Mister Gamgee.. a fine morning this is, and quite a merry littel gathering you seem to be having. Breakfast for six this morning?" he asks. "I just came down to bring you this it's that large comforter you so admired of Bilbo's. I thought, what better time than this chilly morning to bring it over, when you're feet will be wanting it most." he smiles.
Slago removes his gloves and lightly puts his hat on the pegs with his gloves. "I'm sorry to be so rude Gaffer, but do you mind if I take a seat by the fire?"
Staggering out of the Kitchen, armed with a heaping basket of steaming muffins, comes Sam Gamgee--grinning like a maniac. "Well, well!" he exclaims, placing down the basket on the center table. He puts his hands on his hips, and grins at his guests. "Looks like m'friends came by even when it's so cold out there! Thanks, all o'you!" Catching Slago's question, Samwise nods fervently, grabbing a muffin while he's at it--"Oh yes, sit by the fire. The Gaff-er, um, Dad won't mind a thing of it, will you now?" The Gaffer, more interested now in the muffins, nods.
Slago sits by the fire and grabs a muffin on the way down, He looks around the room and smiles at tall the hobbits that have arrived, "Well good evening everybody any complaints or anything?"
As the wind whistles outside, a familiar sound of footsteps comes upto the front door. With a few struggled pushes, the front door of the smial flies open, saved only from crashing against the wall by it's old hinges. There in the doorway stands Mr. Fammer Gamgee, a chubby little man presently red-face and flustered, whether from the cold outside or his struggle with the door. He makes a simple wave, smiling brightly, before stepping through the warm threshold without a word. Almost maticulously, he lays out his mittens and cloak neatly by the door, spending a few moments wiping off his pant legs. Then finally he takes his seat and says a silent, "Hello!" to everyone present, still smiling.
The Gaffer stands when he sees Frodo, albeit rather slowly. His joints all seem to move of their own accord, and he takes a deep breath as his legs straighten out. With a stiff, yet gentle, bow, he regards the Lord of Bag End with a steady, careful, and very revering eye. "Why, Master Baggins," he says, his eyes shining with delight. "Do sit down! Now.. now... Slago, move yourself there... we have a guest of guests here t'night! All the way from up at Bag End, here to bless us with his most good presence-like! Most welcome, Mast Baggins, most most welcome! Here, here, have a muffin! I made the recipe m'self... and don't you worry none, the food'll come along soon." Regarding Fammer coming in, he calls out, "And hullo Fammer! Lookie who we gots here!" Pointing exhuberantly towards Frodo, the Gaffer goes on and on--"Master Frodo Baggins hisself!"
Bodobrus knocks on the door quickly, before letting himself in. "Hello Gamgees. Quite a little meal party you've got going on, haven't you?" "Just heard the sounds of a party, or so I thought, and firgured upon stopping by on my shift. A warm hole's a welcome change from the weather outside, to be sure."
Spotting the muffins, Gabbo draws near to Samwise. He smiles widely, his intent obvious as he eyes the food. 'Hello there Master Gamgee." He says, addressing Samwise this time. "Gabbo Biggs, from down the row. I spotted several huddled figures outside your hole and.. well I figured that you must be having a party. Do you mind terribly?" The halfling asks, reahcing for a muffin. As frodo enters his head swings towards the door, regarding all the new faces. 'Hello!' He says enthusiatically, a bright, sincere smile on his face.
Slago looks at all the new hobbits coming in and stands to greet them all. "Hello everybody! welcome to the big Gamgee dinner party!"
"To be sure!" exclaims Samwise, clapping his hands together happily. His eyes widen a moment, and he scratches the back of his head. "More folks'n I thought!" Chuckling to himself, Samwise nods to Mr. Biggs. "'Course, 'course, 'tis no problem. There's always mouths to feed... seeing as... well... I gots lots of taters, I do. They're the Gaffer's favorite and all." Looking back over his shoulder, Sam's nose wrinkles, and he smells in the direction of the Kitchen. "'Scuse me, all. But, speakin' of taters, I think mine're ready!" With a shy shrug, Samwise vanishes back into the kitchen, whistling to himself.
Nodding happily to the Gaffer Imfer rubs his hands together to warm himself up. Cheerfully smiling at those arriving he remembers the jar he was carrying and places it down on a table. "A bit of a treat fer later on," he notes, smiling and pointing at the jar. "A gift from them ladies up in Overhill it is, some sweets fer after the meal." As more arrive Imfer nods to Slago, smiles to Gabbo, bows to Frodo, waves to Fammer, salutes Bodobrus, and grabs up a muffin. Smiling happily he adds to Sam, "Good grub you've got, me compliments to the cook."
Gabbo snatches up a biscuit smiling his thansk to Samwise as the Gamgee dissappers int he kitchen. He carefully nibbles at the edge savouring the taste, and expressing his appreciation with an "mmmm" He shouts into the kitchen, to their most generous cook "These muffins are absolutely fabulous Master Gamgee!" Then returns to his enjoyment of the naked good. Smiling amiably for everybody he hobbles over to the fireplace and plops down on the floor before it. With his free hand the middle-aged plumper begins to undo the gold-painted buttons of his huge coat.
Fammer makes a very sincere wave to Frodo, studdering slightly as he says, "Weh'hello an', and good ev'ning, Mauster Baigins." Obviously, from his twitchy observation of the Pipe Weed barrels in the corners, he is a bit preoccupied. "Ex'cuse me, Mauster Gamgee, but you would'nt 'appen to 'ave any Ol'Toby, would ye?" he says, turning in his seat to the Gaffer.
Blushing slightly, Frodo just puts the comforter on the end of the sofa and proceeds to remove his coat, "Master Hamfast, now really. Thank you so much for having me in yoru home this evening. And good evening to you all." he greets the others. "Hullo there, Sam. Can I lend a hand?" he offers as he reaches for a muffin.
Staggering, yet again, this time with plates piled up past his eyes, come Samwise from the Kitchen. The smells of candied yams, taters and onions, fresh baked bread, rashers, honey-ham, apple glazed turkey, and a dash of rosemary, come with him from the kitchen--all mingling. Thankfully, the casual table before him has a good amount of room. "I got here... yams, taters, and turkey. Now, it seems that there are bowls and spoons piled high next to the table. Samwise nods to these, "Dig in, lads! It's all fer eatin', and there's more to come. Sit back, relax, eat--and yes, Fammer--you know right well, though the Gamgee's ain't upper class in sort, we always have our Ol'Toby!" Indicating the barrel of Ol'Toby with his chin, Samwise spins on his heels and goes back to the Kitchen for some more entrees.
"Now, Master Baggins!" answers the Gaffer for his son, bringing a wrinkled and liver-spotted hand to his exceptionally round belly. "I'd be put to shame if I knew you were liftin' a hand to do a thing! Sit down! And everyone, Master Baggins gets the first choice of meat, y'hear! It ain't often we've got someone like him here--it's an occasion, that's what it is!"
Inhaling the smell of food, Gabbo shifts on his bum to eye the arrnagement. Coat removed his hops sprightly to his feet, the fire and his former chill forgotten. "Mmm.. would that be turkey I smell and yams? Why is smells delicious." Noticing that the cook has hurried back into the kitchen, Gabbo calls once again to Samwise. "I said, it smells delicious!" Stepping up near Frodo he patiently awaits his turn, gabbing (is his name implies) to the high-classed hobbit as he does so. "I live a few doors down you see Master Baggins, and I saw several hobbits huddled outside Master Gamgee's door. In fact I do believe you were one of them in all actuality. In any case, I figured that he must be having a party."
Imfer looks at the food, his mouth watering and rubs his hands in anticipation. Sitting down at the table he nods to Hamfast, "Here, let Mister Baggins dig in first," he mumbles to himself, perhaps to keep himself from being too much of a glutton. Glancing at the hams, breads, turkey, and all else on the table, he licks his lips and waits patiently.
Smiling, Frodo shakes his head, "Very well, very well. I am in your home." he concedes as he finds a seat at the table. "But I shall have you up at Bag End for dinner in return.. not only for this meal, but also for your son Sam!" he says. "Now.. let's see..." he says and begins to pile his plate full, paying particular attention to the taters and onions.
With the rest of the meal in tow, Samwise re-enters, hopefully for the last time. His face is rather red, and there's a line of perspiration around the crown of his head. "Whew!" he says, with a long exhaling breath, putting down the rest of the feast. "Perfect timing, I say! For you all! I think we got most of what people likes, I do." Sitting down for a moment, Samwise suddenly stands up again, smacking his forehead. "Forgot the ham, I did!" Scurrying back to the Kitchen, Samwise clatters around there, before he comes back, sits down, and places the large honey-ham on the table. Smacking his lips, he says, "Dig in!"
Forkfull after forkfull, the Gaffer does indeed dig in. Not a thank you, not a word of thanks before eating, simply--he eats as if he's never going to eat again! "Mmmm. The ham could use a little more salt, Sammy--but I don't expect you to do it like I do, y'know. You still got lots to learn."
Gabbo takes a seat beside the present Baggins before anybody else can claim it. He continues to babble on in Frodo's ear talking about a thousand different subjects,few of which make much sense or follow a certain theme. Still eh seems quite polite. "Please stop me if I'm talking to much." The Biggs mentions at one point as the food arrives before him. he dishes out some yams, a piece of turkey, a piece of ham, and sets the remains of his biscuit on the bowl in front of him. "Delicious." Gabbo murmurs and begisn to stuff things into his mouth, groaining his ascent to the deliciousness fo the food.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come on in! It's warm, and we got lots o'food!"
Mabrada comes through the door from outside.
Mabrada has arrived.
Mabrada comes in and wipes her feet, kicking the slushy snow off the tips of her toes in the process. "Oh, goodness gracious me my may. It is warm in here. Where's your pop, little Sammy? I've baked him a sweet potato pie casserole to keep his gums warm during Yule. It's simply toothsome, I had a bite on the way here!" Mabrada opens her dish of sweet potato pie, revealing a half-eaten clump. "Simply toothsome!"
"Y'always talk to much," grumbles the Gaffer under his breath, in the direction of Gabbo. His next string of comments, however, seem to go unnoticed--for his mouth is so crammed full with ham and taters, it's insanely difficult to decipher anything. Coming up for air, the Gaffer smiles contentedly, and uses the napkin which he's tucked into his collar, to clean his mouth. Nodding to Frodo, his eyes sparkling, he asks, "Now, now--how do you like my Sam's cooking? Worth its weight in gold, I say! Better to have a hobbit lad 'at ken cook and garden, ain't it!"
Eating voraciously, Frodo nods his head as Gabbo talks in his ear, not really paying him too much attention. "Sam.. this is absolutely fantastic." he says between mouthfuls. "I daresay you've outdone yourself." Turning to the Gaffer, Frodo nods, "Indeed.. I agree!" he laughs, "I know only too well how well he can cook.. I shall have to steal him from you more often. I'm afraid my own skills are somewhat lacking... Bilbo was a great teacher in many things, but alas cooking was not among them." he says with a wink.
Standing abruptly at the entrance of Mabrada, Samwise bows. "Welcome, welcome," he says, donning his most charming and warm grin. His thoughtful brown eyes flit momentarily to the pie in the lass's hands, and he reaches up to scratch behind his ear as he does so. "Well, well," responds the Gamgee lad, taking a few steps away from the table to come up alongside Mabrada. "Looks like you did bring us a pie. Thank you, very much, I say! It's never... ah, I mean, it's always good to have more! I'll ah--I'll go put this in the kitchen." He pauses, a subtle blush coming to his cheeks when he hears his cooking being praised. "But, where're my manners, now?" he asks Mabrada, chuckling to himself. "I am a tater head.. now... let me take yer jacket first!"
Properly chastised by the Gaffer, Gabbo falls into silence, peering back and forth between Frodo and the Gaffer as he pops soem yams into his mouth. His lack of speech seems hard to maintain however as on several occassions he begins to say something, then purposely shushes himself by pushing more food into his mouth. It is not until Mabrada enter that Gabbo finds another vent, however short-lived. "Hello there miss!" He offers Mabrada a wide smile.
Bristling at the gardener's offer, Mabrada shimmies, trying to remove her overcoat. Unfortunately, it is several sizes too small, and she writes a bit. Eventually, she perseveres, finding success in the arduous task. The overcoat itself has several chicken claw marks, many a patch, and many an unpatched hole. Mabrada bundles up the coat, and piles it in Sam's arms, obscuring his face. With a flourishing motion, she whips the yellow scarf off from around her neck and piles it on top of her coat. She then removes her gloves and dumps them in the growing heap.
As soon as Frodo sits down Imfer dives in and grabs up a plate, filling it with taters, ham, turkey, and whatnot. Tearing off a turkey-leg he bites hungrily into it, chewing and swallowing only to do the same again. As Mabrada enters he smiles, "good evenin' miss, do come in!" Grabbing a knife Imfer cuts a few slices off of a loaf of bread, piles them on his plate, and turns to Sam, "Aye, the food's wonderful, especially the turkey!"
"Fank you, Miff Mabwada," come Samwise's muffled voice from behind the jacket and scarf. With a struggle, he manages to get part of the bundle under his chin, and takes a deep breath of air. "I'll hang these up right here for you, now." Turning, Samwise hangs the lass's things up on the nearly filled pegs, and swings around again. "Please, sit down now," he says to Mabrada, wrinkling his nose and scratching the back of his neck. He take the pie in his hands. "I'll... put this in the kitchen..." He says, and vanishes off to do his task.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, now! Out of the cold! Food's warm in here!"
From Out, Lodinar +shouts, "Thank goodness!"
Lodinar comes through the door from outside.
Lodinar has arrived.
Lodinar hurries inside, using his cane to support him. He also seems to have a rather bad limp on his right leg. He turns in a half circle and closes the door. Then, he turns toward the crowd and tips his feathered hat. "Good morning," he says politely.
"Sit down? Don't be silly! Goodness, gracious, I could hardly rest after that brisk walk from the Grange." She beams with excitement, "I'm so thrilled about the approaching Yuledays, that I can't sit still." Simply gushing, the woman clenches her hands together under her chin, and then quickly takes three large brown eggs from her hat. "I think I'll make everyone a nice frittata." As the shirriff comes through the door, she waves with one finger, "Oh, shirriff, what a lovely surprise! Come help me with this frittata!" Mabrada steps into the kitchen, still within earshot, and rifles through the drawers for a frying pan.
Lodinar clears his throat, "That's Sgt., ma'am. Sgt. Lodinar Took at yours and the Shire's service!" He follows this introduction up with a low (but not too low, due to his leg) bow, and a sweep of his hat.
His fingers moving like lighting, the aged Gaffer leans forward and eyes the turkey. Rather unabashedly, he rips off one of the drumsticks with his bare hands, and goes to work chomping on it. He glances up at Lodinar as he enters, and nods politely. Then, realization sets in as Lodinar introduces himself. A large swallow follows suit, and the Gaffer's saggins lids go up. "Sgt. Took, eh?" he asks, the shock in his voice evident. However, once that is said, he goes back to his drumstick.
Bodobrus calls over to Lodinar, after removing the pipe from his mouth, "Hullo coz, just remember, there's two Sgt. Tooks in the place now." Sgt. Bodo Took replaces his pipe in between his teeth, and inhales. From his mouth he unleases a rather large, though uneven smoke ring.
A Puzzled look settling onto the talkative hobbit's face, Gabbo greets the Shirriff with a kind smile then looks into the kitchen after Mabrada. "A Firtiattia?" he asks, completely fouling up the pronounciation. 'What might that be?" He inquires, once again turning to Frodo for the answer to his question. "I say! I've never heard of a Fratitati before have you Master Baggins. No.. no never heard of that. But I do hope i'll enjoy it!" He rubs his hands together, then lifting a wooden utensil deposits some more food into his mouth, chewing softly as his ma and pa taugh thim to do. "Yes.. yes... Sergeant Took.. I do believe there was soemthing about you in paper recently wasn't there?" He asks, bright eyes flitting back to the newest addition to their merry little gathering.
His brow meeting together in a slight frown, Samwise regards Mabrada with a curious eye. "Well... ah..." he mutters, as he leaves the Kitchen. "I s'pose you can just make yerself at home 'n all... I won't bother you none. Time for me to go eat somethin', I say." Assuming his prior seat again, Samwise blinks up at his new guests. "My, my, more and more and more people comin' in!" He shakes his head and chuckles. With a start, the fidgeting Samwise sits bolt straight. "The beer! I forgot the beer!" With great speed, Sam departs once again... this time, with a mission of spirits!
*Chop* *Chop* *Slice, slice, slice* *Chop* *Sizzle* Cooking sounds can be heard from the kitchen as Mabrada prepares some vegetables and heats up the frying pan for her frittata. Within moments, the faint sound of eggs being broken on a countertop can be heard, followed by the ensuing fizzling sound in the pan. Afterwards, a whipping sound may be heard, and a jolly Yule song from Mabrada's rather offkey voice:
'A frittata for the Yule
A frittata for my mule
A frittata for my Shirriff
A frittata for my tarriff.
A frittata for sir Hamfast
A frittata for my mouth last."
Lodinar looks around the smial as he steps further into the room, and, smiling, hurries toward the crates of pipeweed in the corner, pulling his briar pipe from his waistcoat. "Oh, I haven't had a bowl of smoke since yesterday! I hope nobody minds..." As he buries the bowl of his pipe into the fresh pipeweed, he says over his shoulder--"A 'frachapicha' would be splendidly marvelable! I'll have two!" Once his pipe is full, he strikes a flame onto his Zyppo-brand flint-n-steel, and gets the smoke going in the bowl. "Ahhh, wonderful. Simply wonderful. Oh, there's an article in the paper about it?" he inquires, limping toward Gabbo.
Finishing his plate of food, and a rather large plate it was, and yet.. only a single plateful afterall, Frodo pushes away from the table, "Ah.. Sam.. that was quite a repast." he says as he pats his trim belly. "While I don't mean to be rude, I hope you will all excuse me." he says standing up. "Master Hamfast, I shall steal Sam from you.. I warn you." he chuckles, gathering up his coat. "Good day to you all." he bids as he heads for the door.
Frodo goes out into the street.
Frodo has left.
"Hamfast?" grumbles the Gaffer, looking about him, only catching bits and pieces of the song with his rather tentative hearing. "What's goin' on, Sammy?" he demands, though Samwise is not around. Getting no response, the old Gamgee shrugs his shoulders, and helps himself to another large tater or two.. or three... or five...
At the mention of drink Imfer looks up. He shouts, "Aye, a bit o' cold beer would go good wit' a hot meal like this 'un. Bring plenty sir, don't spare anything!" Turning back to his meal he chews at his turkey-leg until only the bone remains, and this he gnaws at a bit more before placing it beneath his plate. Clumsily picking up a fork, the Rumble spears a bit of ham from his plate and stuffs it into his mouth, not bothering to use a knife, chewing and munching, quite content.
Mabrada retuns from the kitchen with a hot frying pan full of frittata. Handing the pan to the Gaffer, she suddenly looks shocked. "Oh goodness gracious, sweet Sue! I just realized, I was supposed to bake a figgy pudding for the Overhill Ladies by noon, and they paid me good money too. I really should be off. Merry Yule, one and all!" Mabra scuttles out the door, leaving her warm overgarments.
Toting a large keg, brought from some dark corner of Bagshot Row #3, Samwise enters the sitting room with a bright grin. "Beer, o'course," he says with a wink.. "It's like the other best part of the meal--besides the food, and some would say the ONLY best part!" Setting up the keg, Samwise rubs his hands together. "Now, lesee... cups, cups, cups... we need cups!"
Gabbo's head bobs up and down. "Why yes, yes, I do believe so." He takes a large bite of ham, chews it, and swallows. While cutting his next bite with the knife that's been provided by the Gamgees Gabbo continues. "I didn't have a chance to sit and read the entire thing Sergeant. You see I live several doors down and I just happened to glance out the window and noticed several hobbits huddling before the Gamgees' door! So naturally I arrived at the conclusion that they were having a party! So immediatly I put down my paper and rushed over to see what all the commotion about. From what I did read, and i merely skimmed over it, it was soemthing about.. a fire?" A smile, displaying some of the kindest and warmest teeth ever displayed by a hobbit greets Mabrada as she prepares to leave. "Good day miss!" he calls after here, then glances into the kitchen at ingredients to the unfinished food. "Must have been quite dreadful Sergeant."
Lodinar finds himself an empty seat at the table, right beside Bodobrus. He leans his staff against the wall and takes himself a plate, a great big, hungry smile upon his face. The young shirriff sergeant fills his plate with all sorts of things, especially taters, and he sets this in front of him. He then takes another plate, and fills it with fritatta. "Hmmm, fripichapa is a favorite of mine. I simply love it!" He looks it over carefully and, not able to decide exactly what it is, he shrugs his shoulders. After filling up both plates as much as possible, he looks about the table, and says: "Would there be any warm ale about? Cold beer would be nice, too, but some warm ale would just hit my spot right on the nose!"
As Frodo leaves, Lodinar Took leans forward and asks: "By the way, was that the chap that lives in Mad Bagginses' old place?"
Placing filled cups on the table, Samwise looks concernedly at Lodinar. He bites his lip. "Well, Mr. Took, sir. If'n you can wait just a moment, I'll come right back with some ale--nice and warm--right for you." Bringing a mug of beer with him into the kitchen, a good deal of rattling and thrashing is heard once he gets there. "Got some ale, I do!" calls Samwise, returning with a jug of the stuff, which he proudly puts before Lodinar. It's a litty dusty, but should probably serve its purpose.
"Mad Baggins?" snorts the Gaffer, his hearing suddenly very acute, and his eyes a deadly dark. He glares at Lodinar. "Dont' you be sayin' a thing about them Bagginses in this here Smial, Mr. Sgt Took! The Bagginses, all of 'em, have been might good to my Sam and me, and I don't take well to folks who say otherwise. They may be... different--I see that--but, they're not queer, or Mad!"
Lodinar turns his head toward Gaffer and blushes just a bit. "I'm sorry if I seem a bit rude--I didn't know you were close to the fellow. But hadn't you heard about that fellow, Balbo? Bilbo, that's right. They say he disappeared in mid-air!" He stuffs a spoon-full of potatoes into his mouth, and, after swallowing, he adds, "It sounds like witch-craft to me!"
Imfer leans over to Lodinar and whispers, "Careful, the Gamgees are a mite touchy on the subject of the Bagginses..."
Bodobrus calls from his spot in the chair, "Not mid-air, from what I heard. Was a flash of smoke, and then he was gone. Disappeared in a cloud."
Ignored, Gabbo is once again hurled into silence. He nearly glares from beneath his lock of brown hair as he places soem food gently into his mouth. Bright eyes, turned dark are quickly averted however as the middle-aged hobbit catches himself looking maliciously between the Gaffer and the Shirriff. As the food on his plate dissappears he sits up, crossing his hands on the table, careful to keep his elbows free of the tabletop. "Can someone please pass the bread?"
"He's long gone, on the moon, he is, no doubt," adds Bodo.
"Witch-craft my arse!" bellows the Gaffer. Some would blame his passion on the wine, or the beer, but it's clear that the old fellow hasn't had a drop of it. "The Great Master Bilbo Baggins was my boss and... and my friend... for many 'a year. I trimmed his hedges, I did! And grew his roses. And he taught my Sammy here his letters, which makes him civil, it does! He just... went! I don't know better, but my thinkin' it was Gandalf, that old coot that did it. But... he... he was a good hobbit, that Bilbo..."
Samwise sighs, and collapses in a chair next to Gabbo. Passing him the bread, he smiles, and shrugs. With a wink, he says to Gabbo, "The Gaffer always gets worked up about Bilbo... he was a good sort 'o hobbit... and he likes to keep it that way." Taking some taters, he offers them to the Biggs lad... "Taters?"
Lodinar takes a few more bites of food and hrms. After passing the bread to Gabbo, he says, "Gandalf? Who is that?" Turning to Bodobrus, he laughs hysterically. "Haw haw haw! The moon?! What, is he a little green hobbit with antenners! Ho ho ho ho! Nonsense!"
Getting rather red in the face, the Gaffer shakes his head. "Some folk just are jealous, that's the truth. Someone always wants the mushrooms that grow on their neighbour's hill!"
Imfer hands Gabbo a loaf of bread before saying, "Aye, Bilbo was a perfectly normal gentlehobbit in me opinion, t'was all the fault o' that oddfellow Gandalf, an' them meddlin' longbeards... those dwarfs give me the shivers they do, wit' their... their hairy faces, an' their funny clothes... I should stop now, I'm scarin' meself!"
Lodinar sticks his tongue out in disgust. "Longbeards, blech! I hate them fellows. So rude and obnoxious, they think they own the world! Would someone pass the butter?" He takes a swig of ale, and says, holding his arms out--"Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to offend anyone. I never met the chap. But aint it odd how he just disappeared like that? Where is he? What is he doing? What does that Frodo really know about it," he taps his head with his finger as he says the last part of his sentence.
Gabbo looks abck and forth between the two trays that have been handed his way. "decision time." He murmurs and begins to count off 'einy meeny." The middle-aged hobbit stops and smiels widley,t aking one slice from each loaf. "Thank you both very much.' he says politely, then directing his bright and happy face to Samwise he unburdens the gamgee of the taters. "Thank you Master Gamgee. Theya re quite delicious." He pushe s acouple into his bowl and sets the tray bearing them down ont he table. 'Quite delcious Master Gamgee, quite delicious. Why I've never head better cuisine!" The bright-eyed hobbit goes about arrangingt he food symettrically on his dish before he raises his fork. It is at this point that he notices the third loaf extended to him over the table. Wiht a shrug of his shoulders the Biggs accepts yet anothe rload, taking yet another piece of bread. This throws off the symmetry of his dish, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much as he take a big bite fo fresh bread.
"Tis his business alone, that's what!" mutters the Gaffer, with poison in his voice to Lodinar. "See this here smial? It's all here 'cause of the generousness of Master Bilbo Baggins. He helped me keep me family together, and all... what, when times were tough, and hired me to help keep Bag End beautiful." Snorting again, the Gaffer rips off a large part of his bread. "I don't ask questions that ain't my business!"
Bodobrus coughs a bit, and after passing a loaf of bread to Gabbo, says to Lodinar,"Well, perhaps he's not grown antlers, but mark this, he's on the moon. Gandalf flew him up there. And he'll come back, being the wonderful sort of mushrooms that grow on the moon and the best pipeweed," says Bodo ,"And I hope to be in his favour, as I want myself a pinch of moon-weed, and moon-shrooms."
At Gaffer's reaction, the Took in his late tweens, Lodinar, blinks a few times. He says quietly to the old hobbit, "I'm sorry." He turns his attention to his plate of potatoes and quietly continues eating.
"Now, now," Samwise says, grinning broadly at Gabbo's complimentary words. "Y'see, now, cookin' ain't my most... er... well, I don't know how to make much stuff fancy like--like what they had up at Bag End for Mr. Frodo's birthday party and all. But the simple stuff, like this." Sam extends his hands over the table, and takes a long draught of his beer. "Ahh... hits the spot, I say."
As the FOURTH loaf of bread is passed his way, Gabbo begins to look a bit dismayed. His bowl is apparently full, as is the table before him. With a look to each of the hobbits at the table, he chuckles a bit nervously. "It would seem I've run out of space." He rises somewhat,leaning over to place the tray in the very center of the table. Smiling Gabbo reseats himself and brushes off his hands. "That takes care of that."
Apparently, very frazzled, the Gaffer struggles to stand from his seat. His grey eyebrows are knit tightly over his eyes. "That's 'nough for me, I say. I'm goin' t'get some sleep." He wraps his hand on the table twice, "Sammy! Come now, bring me to bed, and make sure y'clean up the kitchen." Sam, with a polite nod, stands to go with his father. "Keep eating, everyone," he suggests. "And feel free to stay in from the cold as long as you like--I'll be back soon to clean up." With that, the Gamgees vanish down the hall...
Absent-mindedly sliding a loaf of bread toward Gabbo, Lodinar says, as the Gamgees leave, "Boy, that old alespot is quite cooky!" He takes a long swig of ale and lights his pipe again. Lodinar inhales lightly from his pipe, and blows out a dark cloud of smoke, failing at creating a ring.
Noticing the bread approaching, Gabbo becomes quite paniced. He rises abruptly and brushes the crumbs from his lap as he steps back fromt he table. Snatching a piece of bread from hsi bowl he stuffs it into hos pocket and glances around thr the coat which he seems to have left by the fireplace. "I umnn." he eyes that ominous loaf of bread. "Waht's that? I think I hear the misses calling!" Proceeding towards his coat, he slips into it easily. "It has been quite pleasure good sirs, to eat and meet you all. But you understanhd. She gets awfully upset whne I go wandering off." Seeming to forget about his wife and the lurking load Gabbo contiues to speak about hsi wanderings. "Why just the other day I wandered down to Hobbiton central and do you know who I met there? I met a hobbit wearing the brightest clothes I've ever seen, all wrappe dup in a blue cloak! And do you know what he sold me. Why he sold me an antique spoon. Of course the misses was rather frazzled when I returned home. Not only because I'd been out so long,but because I'd bought this dazzling antique spoon..."
Lodinar hems, "That bread fellow is cooky, too," he whispers to Bodobrus.
Standing rather wobblishly up, Imfer nods to everyone. "Well thanks to ye'all fer the dinner, though I'd best be off. Me thanks to the Gamgees, an' to all of ya." The halfling picks up the jar he had brought in with him, lifts the lid, and announces, "Well I'm off, g'night to all. I've got a jar of cookies 'ere, baked by the nice ol' ladies from the OLC, bless their souls. I'll come back t'morrow fer the jar, just help yerselves to the cookies now." With a bow to the assembly Imfer picks his coat and hat off of their pegs, puts them on, and walks out into the Yuletide night.
Doing up his gold painted buttons, Gabbo continues to chatter even as he wraps a scarf tightly about his neck, covering the bottom half of his face. Noticing that Imfer is preparing to leave as well he decides to accompny his fellow diner out, talking and gesturing animatedly all the while. "So she wanted me to take the spoon back to that wonderful saleshobbit, but of course I said no. The two of us then got into a big argument abotu what we should do witht he spoon. Then one night I FINALLY gave in. No you must realize that this was after three days of listening to her nag my ear off. Nag, nag nag. She never stopped nagging! So I took the spoon back down to Hobbiton central, but lo and behold the slaeshobbit ahd already left." he take s adeep breath and continues. 'So when I cam ehome my wife told me to go after him and find him so that I might be refunded. Of course I said no. at first but then one night.. I just had to give in. Like I said before, nag, nag, nag, nag ,nag! So I packed up some warm cloithes..." he fallows Imfer out.
Darting back inside, Gabbo snatches a cookie, smiles to everyone, then chases Imfer back out of the hole yelling. "Wait up sir, wait up! I'm not finished yet!"
What
Hobbiton folks gather at the Gaffer's hole for dinner.
Who
Pippin Took (#30066)...............Samwise Gamgee, Hamfast Gamgee
Filby Pott (#29680)................Imfer Rumble
Reginald Bolger (#10657)...........Gabbo Biggs
Slago Goodbody (#17818)............himself
Folco Boffin (#28450)..............Frodo Baggins
Bodobrus Took (#17065).............himself
Riflo Proudfoot (#3470)............Fammer Gamgee
Lotho Sackville-Baggins (#18781)...Mabrada Bracegirdle
Paladin Took (#22742)..............Lodinar Took
The Gaffer's Hole
As you close the door behind you a warm breeze from the fire comforts you. Everything speaks of simple, rustic, comfort. Two freshly painted round windows, with flower boxes, let a steady stream of light into the Main Hole. Well worn, but colorful, rugs adorn the floors in rusty reds and dark greens. On the wall are some family paintings--and there is a particularly prominent one of the Gaffer, looking astute and holding a pipe. At the sooty black fireplace is a huge dark wooden table with comfy seats around it, which all look as if they've had many a bottom on them. A huge checkered sofa stands to the right wall.
To the east there is the entrance to the well-appointed kitchen. The tea-kettle whistles in the kitchen loudly, and the aroma of boiled taters can be smelled.
In the corner stand some crates of pipeweed with labels on it saying: Ol'Toby, Longbottom, Southern Star.
The Gamgees are happy with any visitor, sit back and make yourself at home...
Samwise Gamgee (also played the Gaffer
A hobbit of pleasantly stout proportions, Samwise Gamgee stands before you. His bright little rusty-brown eyes shine merrily out of his well tanned, and rather friendly face. There is a hint of a burn around his nose and cheeks. A slightly large, but certainly not bulbous, nose rests impartially under his eyes and give him what would be deemed character. Freckles dot his cheeks, his nose, and even his chin. His lips, the top one a good deal thinner than the lower, are a healthy pink and drawn back in a brilliant grin over a set of very white, but not particularly straight, teeth. In fact, the front two teeth seem to be gapped, but then--on closer inspection, it's evident that one has grown in on an angle, creating an odd sort of shadow. Topping it all off is a mane of rather haphazardly combed curls, which are russet-red.
Dressed for his station, Samwise still carries himself very well. His long brown fingers are hooked in his thick leather belt, which also has a pair of bright red suspenders attached to it--stitched with a yellow cross-hatch design. A thick material makes up his dark brown shirt, which has long sleeves that look a bit too long for his arms, which he rolls up at the ends. A pair of woolen britches, with large, deep pockets, fit comfortably over his very hairy legs. His feet, which are slightly stained with dust and grime, are covered with a semi-well kept patch of fur. On top of his head sits a floppy old grey hat, more of a cap really, that adds to the humble air about him.
Slago Goodbody
A short pudgy hobbit stands before you. He is rather tall for a hobbit but you could never tell by his weight. His curly brown hair and piercing brown eyes are hidden under his bright red hat. On his body, is a blue shirt and a pair of orange trousers. On his shirt, a little pin sticks out, it reads "Eastfarthing Shirriff". Sticking out of his bright red hat is a little green feather showing that he truly is a Shirriff.
Imfer Rumble
Imfer Rumble is a gardener and carpenter, and this shows in his old, soiled clothes. His faded green shirt is covered with sawdust and his pants stained with dirt. He is a ragged figure, except for his neatly-combed black hair under his patched, pointed hat. Imfer's face is chubby and sun-tanned, and his mouth smiles cheerily.
Fammer Gamgee
Before you is a hobbit, standing somewhere between 3 feet and 2 and a half. His curly brown hair is neatly combed back on his head, with a part down the middle. Between his large rosy nose, and similarly colored cheeks, are his bright brown eyes.
He wears a simple garb, though together in whole it looks very finely made. A plain white shirt begins the suit, covered over by a green cloth vest with a pocket on either side. For pants, he wears a pair of black trousers, neatly ironed with creases on either side. A thin leather belt loops through the pant's top.
Gabbo Biggs (Reginald Bolger)
With wide glistening eyes of almond this hobbit peers forth at the world about him from under a drooping lock of light brown hair. The twinkling in his iris and the set of his rosey-red lips in a continual smirk might suggest that this hobbit possesses an insatiable curiosity. There is a naive air about this fellow, despite the fact that he's reached his plump middle-ages. Currently he is wearing a rather puffy red coat with painted gold buttons. The heavily padded garment reaches down to his knees, serving well to ward off the cold.
Mabrada Bracegirdle
An old and fat hobbit matron wearing a garish magenta gown and a bright yellow scarf. Her behind sticks out so far it is possible one could balance a teacup there. Her hair is excessively curly and clings to her head, and a smile is practically plastered onto her face.
Her hands are plump and callous, and a clever eye might notice a few small cuts and scratches on her hands and arms. She wears a large white apron with several small pouches, lined in rows. Upon her head is perched a rather peculiar hat, with rows of eggs nestled in brass rings. Her appearance suggests that of a fowl raiser.
The Story
Ah, the lovely comforts of a good down-country home! The distinct essence of taters and garlic, mingled with the salty smell of meat (perhaps pork) drifts through the air. Some clattering is heard from the direction of the kitchen, and some loud whistling. The inside of Bagshot Row, number 3, however, is extremely warm and accomodating. Seats, well used of course, seem to beckon weary derriers to their comfort. One must imagine, looking at the simple hominess of this place, that certainly, many people are welcome.
In a tall rocking chair, which creaks and cracks on the floor boards, sits the Gaffer, comfortably smoking his pipe. He looks distinguished, somehow, in his neat attire--certainly nothing fancy (goodness knows, he'd never agree to the wastin good money on clothes!) of course. His eyes, dark brown and warm, flit up as he puts his pipe to his mouth. "Come on then, Sammy!" he calls in the direction of the kitchen--his voice, a higher, rougher version of his son's--"Come now, I think I ken hear 'em guests a'comin' in!"
A knock sounds at the door, and a rather gravelly voice sounds outside. "'Allo, anyone home? It's me, Imfer! Y'know, the feller from down the Row?" Before anyone answers the round entrance opens wide and the young Rumble steps in, a wide (though not very smart) smile on his face and a jar of something-or-other under his arm. He closes the door quickly and removes an old coat and hat. "Colder than a Long Cleeve outhouse t'day, I swear." Imfer bows to the Gaffer and stands to the side of the smial, expectant and eager, taking deep breaths and savouring the delicious aromas wafting out of the kitchen.
Frowning slightly, his chin falling down to his chest, the Gaffer looks up at Imfer with measuring eyes. There is a moment of silence. Then, the old Gamgee lets out a little laugh, and waves over to a chair. "Yes, yes, 'course! Go sit down now, Imfie, I tell ya--it ain't right fer no hobbits to be runnin' around out there. Got your head full o'taters, you do, I'm sure! Now, now, now, but I can't say, of course. Y'see, ol' Sam o'mine, he insisted like on havin' this here gettin' together an' all... so, might glad yer still here, at any rate." The Gaffer, a hard hobbit in most respects, doesn't exactly make it sound like he's happy to have Imfer in--but then again, he doesn't sound excited either. His wit is indeed difficult to read. "Where the food is, the crows come, I always say... so, sit, be comfortable, Rumble-lad."
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, now, out o' that snow!"
Gabbo comes through the door from outside.
Gabbo has arrived.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, everbody come in!"
Slago comes through the door from outside.
Slago has arrived.
With wide glistening eyes of almond this hobbit peers forth at the world about him from under a drooping lock of light brown hair. The twinkling in his iris and the set of his rosey-red lips in a continual smirk might suggest that this hobbit possesses an insatiable curiosity. There is a naive air about this fellow, despite the fact that he's reached his plump middle-ages. Currently he is wearing a rather puffy red coat with painted gold buttons. The heavily padded garment reaches down to his knees, serving well to ward off the cold
Slago walks in from the Blustery cold chilled to the bone and developing a slight cough, "Good evening Gaffer, How are you this cold and blustery day?"
Frodo comes through the door from outside.
Frodo has arrived.
"Loverly, loverly," mutters the Gaffer, his wrinkled eyes widening under folds of flesh. Yet, they twinkle. "Good to see so many hobbits 'a comin' in out'a the rain." Tapping his pipe on the table beside him, he turns his greying head over his shoulder, and yells in the direction of the kitchen. "Come now, Sammy! You've got yer guests all waitin' out here!" To his guests, he manages a jovial smile, "Now just put yer jackets and mittens and such on the pegs--and do sit down, and be comfortable. There's plenty fer all!"
Gabbo bustles into the hole, rubbing his hands together furiously. His unprotected face has been turned a bright red formt he cold. "Oooh, chilly!" He excalims, making sure the door is properly shut behind all the newcomers. A smile forms on his face as he peers around at everyone. "Why hallo Master Gamgee." The bright-eyed hobbit declares approaching thei rhost. "I just happened to look outside, and what did I see but several huddled figures lined up in front of your door. So of course I thought you might be havving a little gathering. I hope I'm not intruding?" Politeness seem to come natrually to him.
Ducking his head in first, Frodo Baggins steps into the cozy confines of #3 Bagshot Row. A warm smile paints his face and he seems to look quite at home in the tiny abode. Frodo is dressed warmly, and in his arms is a thick bundle. He takes a moment to wipe the snow from his feet, "Good morning Mister Gamgee.. a fine morning this is, and quite a merry littel gathering you seem to be having. Breakfast for six this morning?" he asks. "I just came down to bring you this it's that large comforter you so admired of Bilbo's. I thought, what better time than this chilly morning to bring it over, when you're feet will be wanting it most." he smiles.
Slago removes his gloves and lightly puts his hat on the pegs with his gloves. "I'm sorry to be so rude Gaffer, but do you mind if I take a seat by the fire?"
Staggering out of the Kitchen, armed with a heaping basket of steaming muffins, comes Sam Gamgee--grinning like a maniac. "Well, well!" he exclaims, placing down the basket on the center table. He puts his hands on his hips, and grins at his guests. "Looks like m'friends came by even when it's so cold out there! Thanks, all o'you!" Catching Slago's question, Samwise nods fervently, grabbing a muffin while he's at it--"Oh yes, sit by the fire. The Gaff-er, um, Dad won't mind a thing of it, will you now?" The Gaffer, more interested now in the muffins, nods.
Slago sits by the fire and grabs a muffin on the way down, He looks around the room and smiles at tall the hobbits that have arrived, "Well good evening everybody any complaints or anything?"
As the wind whistles outside, a familiar sound of footsteps comes upto the front door. With a few struggled pushes, the front door of the smial flies open, saved only from crashing against the wall by it's old hinges. There in the doorway stands Mr. Fammer Gamgee, a chubby little man presently red-face and flustered, whether from the cold outside or his struggle with the door. He makes a simple wave, smiling brightly, before stepping through the warm threshold without a word. Almost maticulously, he lays out his mittens and cloak neatly by the door, spending a few moments wiping off his pant legs. Then finally he takes his seat and says a silent, "Hello!" to everyone present, still smiling.
The Gaffer stands when he sees Frodo, albeit rather slowly. His joints all seem to move of their own accord, and he takes a deep breath as his legs straighten out. With a stiff, yet gentle, bow, he regards the Lord of Bag End with a steady, careful, and very revering eye. "Why, Master Baggins," he says, his eyes shining with delight. "Do sit down! Now.. now... Slago, move yourself there... we have a guest of guests here t'night! All the way from up at Bag End, here to bless us with his most good presence-like! Most welcome, Mast Baggins, most most welcome! Here, here, have a muffin! I made the recipe m'self... and don't you worry none, the food'll come along soon." Regarding Fammer coming in, he calls out, "And hullo Fammer! Lookie who we gots here!" Pointing exhuberantly towards Frodo, the Gaffer goes on and on--"Master Frodo Baggins hisself!"
Bodobrus knocks on the door quickly, before letting himself in. "Hello Gamgees. Quite a little meal party you've got going on, haven't you?" "Just heard the sounds of a party, or so I thought, and firgured upon stopping by on my shift. A warm hole's a welcome change from the weather outside, to be sure."
Spotting the muffins, Gabbo draws near to Samwise. He smiles widely, his intent obvious as he eyes the food. 'Hello there Master Gamgee." He says, addressing Samwise this time. "Gabbo Biggs, from down the row. I spotted several huddled figures outside your hole and.. well I figured that you must be having a party. Do you mind terribly?" The halfling asks, reahcing for a muffin. As frodo enters his head swings towards the door, regarding all the new faces. 'Hello!' He says enthusiatically, a bright, sincere smile on his face.
Slago looks at all the new hobbits coming in and stands to greet them all. "Hello everybody! welcome to the big Gamgee dinner party!"
"To be sure!" exclaims Samwise, clapping his hands together happily. His eyes widen a moment, and he scratches the back of his head. "More folks'n I thought!" Chuckling to himself, Samwise nods to Mr. Biggs. "'Course, 'course, 'tis no problem. There's always mouths to feed... seeing as... well... I gots lots of taters, I do. They're the Gaffer's favorite and all." Looking back over his shoulder, Sam's nose wrinkles, and he smells in the direction of the Kitchen. "'Scuse me, all. But, speakin' of taters, I think mine're ready!" With a shy shrug, Samwise vanishes back into the kitchen, whistling to himself.
Nodding happily to the Gaffer Imfer rubs his hands together to warm himself up. Cheerfully smiling at those arriving he remembers the jar he was carrying and places it down on a table. "A bit of a treat fer later on," he notes, smiling and pointing at the jar. "A gift from them ladies up in Overhill it is, some sweets fer after the meal." As more arrive Imfer nods to Slago, smiles to Gabbo, bows to Frodo, waves to Fammer, salutes Bodobrus, and grabs up a muffin. Smiling happily he adds to Sam, "Good grub you've got, me compliments to the cook."
Gabbo snatches up a biscuit smiling his thansk to Samwise as the Gamgee dissappers int he kitchen. He carefully nibbles at the edge savouring the taste, and expressing his appreciation with an "mmmm" He shouts into the kitchen, to their most generous cook "These muffins are absolutely fabulous Master Gamgee!" Then returns to his enjoyment of the naked good. Smiling amiably for everybody he hobbles over to the fireplace and plops down on the floor before it. With his free hand the middle-aged plumper begins to undo the gold-painted buttons of his huge coat.
Fammer makes a very sincere wave to Frodo, studdering slightly as he says, "Weh'hello an', and good ev'ning, Mauster Baigins." Obviously, from his twitchy observation of the Pipe Weed barrels in the corners, he is a bit preoccupied. "Ex'cuse me, Mauster Gamgee, but you would'nt 'appen to 'ave any Ol'Toby, would ye?" he says, turning in his seat to the Gaffer.
Blushing slightly, Frodo just puts the comforter on the end of the sofa and proceeds to remove his coat, "Master Hamfast, now really. Thank you so much for having me in yoru home this evening. And good evening to you all." he greets the others. "Hullo there, Sam. Can I lend a hand?" he offers as he reaches for a muffin.
Staggering, yet again, this time with plates piled up past his eyes, come Samwise from the Kitchen. The smells of candied yams, taters and onions, fresh baked bread, rashers, honey-ham, apple glazed turkey, and a dash of rosemary, come with him from the kitchen--all mingling. Thankfully, the casual table before him has a good amount of room. "I got here... yams, taters, and turkey. Now, it seems that there are bowls and spoons piled high next to the table. Samwise nods to these, "Dig in, lads! It's all fer eatin', and there's more to come. Sit back, relax, eat--and yes, Fammer--you know right well, though the Gamgee's ain't upper class in sort, we always have our Ol'Toby!" Indicating the barrel of Ol'Toby with his chin, Samwise spins on his heels and goes back to the Kitchen for some more entrees.
"Now, Master Baggins!" answers the Gaffer for his son, bringing a wrinkled and liver-spotted hand to his exceptionally round belly. "I'd be put to shame if I knew you were liftin' a hand to do a thing! Sit down! And everyone, Master Baggins gets the first choice of meat, y'hear! It ain't often we've got someone like him here--it's an occasion, that's what it is!"
Inhaling the smell of food, Gabbo shifts on his bum to eye the arrnagement. Coat removed his hops sprightly to his feet, the fire and his former chill forgotten. "Mmm.. would that be turkey I smell and yams? Why is smells delicious." Noticing that the cook has hurried back into the kitchen, Gabbo calls once again to Samwise. "I said, it smells delicious!" Stepping up near Frodo he patiently awaits his turn, gabbing (is his name implies) to the high-classed hobbit as he does so. "I live a few doors down you see Master Baggins, and I saw several hobbits huddled outside Master Gamgee's door. In fact I do believe you were one of them in all actuality. In any case, I figured that he must be having a party."
Imfer looks at the food, his mouth watering and rubs his hands in anticipation. Sitting down at the table he nods to Hamfast, "Here, let Mister Baggins dig in first," he mumbles to himself, perhaps to keep himself from being too much of a glutton. Glancing at the hams, breads, turkey, and all else on the table, he licks his lips and waits patiently.
Smiling, Frodo shakes his head, "Very well, very well. I am in your home." he concedes as he finds a seat at the table. "But I shall have you up at Bag End for dinner in return.. not only for this meal, but also for your son Sam!" he says. "Now.. let's see..." he says and begins to pile his plate full, paying particular attention to the taters and onions.
With the rest of the meal in tow, Samwise re-enters, hopefully for the last time. His face is rather red, and there's a line of perspiration around the crown of his head. "Whew!" he says, with a long exhaling breath, putting down the rest of the feast. "Perfect timing, I say! For you all! I think we got most of what people likes, I do." Sitting down for a moment, Samwise suddenly stands up again, smacking his forehead. "Forgot the ham, I did!" Scurrying back to the Kitchen, Samwise clatters around there, before he comes back, sits down, and places the large honey-ham on the table. Smacking his lips, he says, "Dig in!"
Forkfull after forkfull, the Gaffer does indeed dig in. Not a thank you, not a word of thanks before eating, simply--he eats as if he's never going to eat again! "Mmmm. The ham could use a little more salt, Sammy--but I don't expect you to do it like I do, y'know. You still got lots to learn."
Gabbo takes a seat beside the present Baggins before anybody else can claim it. He continues to babble on in Frodo's ear talking about a thousand different subjects,few of which make much sense or follow a certain theme. Still eh seems quite polite. "Please stop me if I'm talking to much." The Biggs mentions at one point as the food arrives before him. he dishes out some yams, a piece of turkey, a piece of ham, and sets the remains of his biscuit on the bowl in front of him. "Delicious." Gabbo murmurs and begisn to stuff things into his mouth, groaining his ascent to the deliciousness fo the food.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come on in! It's warm, and we got lots o'food!"
Mabrada comes through the door from outside.
Mabrada has arrived.
Mabrada comes in and wipes her feet, kicking the slushy snow off the tips of her toes in the process. "Oh, goodness gracious me my may. It is warm in here. Where's your pop, little Sammy? I've baked him a sweet potato pie casserole to keep his gums warm during Yule. It's simply toothsome, I had a bite on the way here!" Mabrada opens her dish of sweet potato pie, revealing a half-eaten clump. "Simply toothsome!"
"Y'always talk to much," grumbles the Gaffer under his breath, in the direction of Gabbo. His next string of comments, however, seem to go unnoticed--for his mouth is so crammed full with ham and taters, it's insanely difficult to decipher anything. Coming up for air, the Gaffer smiles contentedly, and uses the napkin which he's tucked into his collar, to clean his mouth. Nodding to Frodo, his eyes sparkling, he asks, "Now, now--how do you like my Sam's cooking? Worth its weight in gold, I say! Better to have a hobbit lad 'at ken cook and garden, ain't it!"
Eating voraciously, Frodo nods his head as Gabbo talks in his ear, not really paying him too much attention. "Sam.. this is absolutely fantastic." he says between mouthfuls. "I daresay you've outdone yourself." Turning to the Gaffer, Frodo nods, "Indeed.. I agree!" he laughs, "I know only too well how well he can cook.. I shall have to steal him from you more often. I'm afraid my own skills are somewhat lacking... Bilbo was a great teacher in many things, but alas cooking was not among them." he says with a wink.
Standing abruptly at the entrance of Mabrada, Samwise bows. "Welcome, welcome," he says, donning his most charming and warm grin. His thoughtful brown eyes flit momentarily to the pie in the lass's hands, and he reaches up to scratch behind his ear as he does so. "Well, well," responds the Gamgee lad, taking a few steps away from the table to come up alongside Mabrada. "Looks like you did bring us a pie. Thank you, very much, I say! It's never... ah, I mean, it's always good to have more! I'll ah--I'll go put this in the kitchen." He pauses, a subtle blush coming to his cheeks when he hears his cooking being praised. "But, where're my manners, now?" he asks Mabrada, chuckling to himself. "I am a tater head.. now... let me take yer jacket first!"
Properly chastised by the Gaffer, Gabbo falls into silence, peering back and forth between Frodo and the Gaffer as he pops soem yams into his mouth. His lack of speech seems hard to maintain however as on several occassions he begins to say something, then purposely shushes himself by pushing more food into his mouth. It is not until Mabrada enter that Gabbo finds another vent, however short-lived. "Hello there miss!" He offers Mabrada a wide smile.
Bristling at the gardener's offer, Mabrada shimmies, trying to remove her overcoat. Unfortunately, it is several sizes too small, and she writes a bit. Eventually, she perseveres, finding success in the arduous task. The overcoat itself has several chicken claw marks, many a patch, and many an unpatched hole. Mabrada bundles up the coat, and piles it in Sam's arms, obscuring his face. With a flourishing motion, she whips the yellow scarf off from around her neck and piles it on top of her coat. She then removes her gloves and dumps them in the growing heap.
As soon as Frodo sits down Imfer dives in and grabs up a plate, filling it with taters, ham, turkey, and whatnot. Tearing off a turkey-leg he bites hungrily into it, chewing and swallowing only to do the same again. As Mabrada enters he smiles, "good evenin' miss, do come in!" Grabbing a knife Imfer cuts a few slices off of a loaf of bread, piles them on his plate, and turns to Sam, "Aye, the food's wonderful, especially the turkey!"
"Fank you, Miff Mabwada," come Samwise's muffled voice from behind the jacket and scarf. With a struggle, he manages to get part of the bundle under his chin, and takes a deep breath of air. "I'll hang these up right here for you, now." Turning, Samwise hangs the lass's things up on the nearly filled pegs, and swings around again. "Please, sit down now," he says to Mabrada, wrinkling his nose and scratching the back of his neck. He take the pie in his hands. "I'll... put this in the kitchen..." He says, and vanishes off to do his task.
You hear a knock from the direction of Out.
Samwise +shouts "Come in, now! Out of the cold! Food's warm in here!"
From Out, Lodinar +shouts, "Thank goodness!"
Lodinar comes through the door from outside.
Lodinar has arrived.
Lodinar hurries inside, using his cane to support him. He also seems to have a rather bad limp on his right leg. He turns in a half circle and closes the door. Then, he turns toward the crowd and tips his feathered hat. "Good morning," he says politely.
"Sit down? Don't be silly! Goodness, gracious, I could hardly rest after that brisk walk from the Grange." She beams with excitement, "I'm so thrilled about the approaching Yuledays, that I can't sit still." Simply gushing, the woman clenches her hands together under her chin, and then quickly takes three large brown eggs from her hat. "I think I'll make everyone a nice frittata." As the shirriff comes through the door, she waves with one finger, "Oh, shirriff, what a lovely surprise! Come help me with this frittata!" Mabrada steps into the kitchen, still within earshot, and rifles through the drawers for a frying pan.
Lodinar clears his throat, "That's Sgt., ma'am. Sgt. Lodinar Took at yours and the Shire's service!" He follows this introduction up with a low (but not too low, due to his leg) bow, and a sweep of his hat.
His fingers moving like lighting, the aged Gaffer leans forward and eyes the turkey. Rather unabashedly, he rips off one of the drumsticks with his bare hands, and goes to work chomping on it. He glances up at Lodinar as he enters, and nods politely. Then, realization sets in as Lodinar introduces himself. A large swallow follows suit, and the Gaffer's saggins lids go up. "Sgt. Took, eh?" he asks, the shock in his voice evident. However, once that is said, he goes back to his drumstick.
Bodobrus calls over to Lodinar, after removing the pipe from his mouth, "Hullo coz, just remember, there's two Sgt. Tooks in the place now." Sgt. Bodo Took replaces his pipe in between his teeth, and inhales. From his mouth he unleases a rather large, though uneven smoke ring.
A Puzzled look settling onto the talkative hobbit's face, Gabbo greets the Shirriff with a kind smile then looks into the kitchen after Mabrada. "A Firtiattia?" he asks, completely fouling up the pronounciation. 'What might that be?" He inquires, once again turning to Frodo for the answer to his question. "I say! I've never heard of a Fratitati before have you Master Baggins. No.. no never heard of that. But I do hope i'll enjoy it!" He rubs his hands together, then lifting a wooden utensil deposits some more food into his mouth, chewing softly as his ma and pa taugh thim to do. "Yes.. yes... Sergeant Took.. I do believe there was soemthing about you in paper recently wasn't there?" He asks, bright eyes flitting back to the newest addition to their merry little gathering.
His brow meeting together in a slight frown, Samwise regards Mabrada with a curious eye. "Well... ah..." he mutters, as he leaves the Kitchen. "I s'pose you can just make yerself at home 'n all... I won't bother you none. Time for me to go eat somethin', I say." Assuming his prior seat again, Samwise blinks up at his new guests. "My, my, more and more and more people comin' in!" He shakes his head and chuckles. With a start, the fidgeting Samwise sits bolt straight. "The beer! I forgot the beer!" With great speed, Sam departs once again... this time, with a mission of spirits!
*Chop* *Chop* *Slice, slice, slice* *Chop* *Sizzle* Cooking sounds can be heard from the kitchen as Mabrada prepares some vegetables and heats up the frying pan for her frittata. Within moments, the faint sound of eggs being broken on a countertop can be heard, followed by the ensuing fizzling sound in the pan. Afterwards, a whipping sound may be heard, and a jolly Yule song from Mabrada's rather offkey voice:
'A frittata for the Yule
A frittata for my mule
A frittata for my Shirriff
A frittata for my tarriff.
A frittata for sir Hamfast
A frittata for my mouth last."
Lodinar looks around the smial as he steps further into the room, and, smiling, hurries toward the crates of pipeweed in the corner, pulling his briar pipe from his waistcoat. "Oh, I haven't had a bowl of smoke since yesterday! I hope nobody minds..." As he buries the bowl of his pipe into the fresh pipeweed, he says over his shoulder--"A 'frachapicha' would be splendidly marvelable! I'll have two!" Once his pipe is full, he strikes a flame onto his Zyppo-brand flint-n-steel, and gets the smoke going in the bowl. "Ahhh, wonderful. Simply wonderful. Oh, there's an article in the paper about it?" he inquires, limping toward Gabbo.
Finishing his plate of food, and a rather large plate it was, and yet.. only a single plateful afterall, Frodo pushes away from the table, "Ah.. Sam.. that was quite a repast." he says as he pats his trim belly. "While I don't mean to be rude, I hope you will all excuse me." he says standing up. "Master Hamfast, I shall steal Sam from you.. I warn you." he chuckles, gathering up his coat. "Good day to you all." he bids as he heads for the door.
Frodo goes out into the street.
Frodo has left.
"Hamfast?" grumbles the Gaffer, looking about him, only catching bits and pieces of the song with his rather tentative hearing. "What's goin' on, Sammy?" he demands, though Samwise is not around. Getting no response, the old Gamgee shrugs his shoulders, and helps himself to another large tater or two.. or three... or five...
At the mention of drink Imfer looks up. He shouts, "Aye, a bit o' cold beer would go good wit' a hot meal like this 'un. Bring plenty sir, don't spare anything!" Turning back to his meal he chews at his turkey-leg until only the bone remains, and this he gnaws at a bit more before placing it beneath his plate. Clumsily picking up a fork, the Rumble spears a bit of ham from his plate and stuffs it into his mouth, not bothering to use a knife, chewing and munching, quite content.
Mabrada retuns from the kitchen with a hot frying pan full of frittata. Handing the pan to the Gaffer, she suddenly looks shocked. "Oh goodness gracious, sweet Sue! I just realized, I was supposed to bake a figgy pudding for the Overhill Ladies by noon, and they paid me good money too. I really should be off. Merry Yule, one and all!" Mabra scuttles out the door, leaving her warm overgarments.
Toting a large keg, brought from some dark corner of Bagshot Row #3, Samwise enters the sitting room with a bright grin. "Beer, o'course," he says with a wink.. "It's like the other best part of the meal--besides the food, and some would say the ONLY best part!" Setting up the keg, Samwise rubs his hands together. "Now, lesee... cups, cups, cups... we need cups!"
Gabbo's head bobs up and down. "Why yes, yes, I do believe so." He takes a large bite of ham, chews it, and swallows. While cutting his next bite with the knife that's been provided by the Gamgees Gabbo continues. "I didn't have a chance to sit and read the entire thing Sergeant. You see I live several doors down and I just happened to glance out the window and noticed several hobbits huddling before the Gamgees' door! So naturally I arrived at the conclusion that they were having a party! So immediatly I put down my paper and rushed over to see what all the commotion about. From what I did read, and i merely skimmed over it, it was soemthing about.. a fire?" A smile, displaying some of the kindest and warmest teeth ever displayed by a hobbit greets Mabrada as she prepares to leave. "Good day miss!" he calls after here, then glances into the kitchen at ingredients to the unfinished food. "Must have been quite dreadful Sergeant."
Lodinar finds himself an empty seat at the table, right beside Bodobrus. He leans his staff against the wall and takes himself a plate, a great big, hungry smile upon his face. The young shirriff sergeant fills his plate with all sorts of things, especially taters, and he sets this in front of him. He then takes another plate, and fills it with fritatta. "Hmmm, fripichapa is a favorite of mine. I simply love it!" He looks it over carefully and, not able to decide exactly what it is, he shrugs his shoulders. After filling up both plates as much as possible, he looks about the table, and says: "Would there be any warm ale about? Cold beer would be nice, too, but some warm ale would just hit my spot right on the nose!"
As Frodo leaves, Lodinar Took leans forward and asks: "By the way, was that the chap that lives in Mad Bagginses' old place?"
Placing filled cups on the table, Samwise looks concernedly at Lodinar. He bites his lip. "Well, Mr. Took, sir. If'n you can wait just a moment, I'll come right back with some ale--nice and warm--right for you." Bringing a mug of beer with him into the kitchen, a good deal of rattling and thrashing is heard once he gets there. "Got some ale, I do!" calls Samwise, returning with a jug of the stuff, which he proudly puts before Lodinar. It's a litty dusty, but should probably serve its purpose.
"Mad Baggins?" snorts the Gaffer, his hearing suddenly very acute, and his eyes a deadly dark. He glares at Lodinar. "Dont' you be sayin' a thing about them Bagginses in this here Smial, Mr. Sgt Took! The Bagginses, all of 'em, have been might good to my Sam and me, and I don't take well to folks who say otherwise. They may be... different--I see that--but, they're not queer, or Mad!"
Lodinar turns his head toward Gaffer and blushes just a bit. "I'm sorry if I seem a bit rude--I didn't know you were close to the fellow. But hadn't you heard about that fellow, Balbo? Bilbo, that's right. They say he disappeared in mid-air!" He stuffs a spoon-full of potatoes into his mouth, and, after swallowing, he adds, "It sounds like witch-craft to me!"
Imfer leans over to Lodinar and whispers, "Careful, the Gamgees are a mite touchy on the subject of the Bagginses..."
Bodobrus calls from his spot in the chair, "Not mid-air, from what I heard. Was a flash of smoke, and then he was gone. Disappeared in a cloud."
Ignored, Gabbo is once again hurled into silence. He nearly glares from beneath his lock of brown hair as he places soem food gently into his mouth. Bright eyes, turned dark are quickly averted however as the middle-aged hobbit catches himself looking maliciously between the Gaffer and the Shirriff. As the food on his plate dissappears he sits up, crossing his hands on the table, careful to keep his elbows free of the tabletop. "Can someone please pass the bread?"
"He's long gone, on the moon, he is, no doubt," adds Bodo.
"Witch-craft my arse!" bellows the Gaffer. Some would blame his passion on the wine, or the beer, but it's clear that the old fellow hasn't had a drop of it. "The Great Master Bilbo Baggins was my boss and... and my friend... for many 'a year. I trimmed his hedges, I did! And grew his roses. And he taught my Sammy here his letters, which makes him civil, it does! He just... went! I don't know better, but my thinkin' it was Gandalf, that old coot that did it. But... he... he was a good hobbit, that Bilbo..."
Samwise sighs, and collapses in a chair next to Gabbo. Passing him the bread, he smiles, and shrugs. With a wink, he says to Gabbo, "The Gaffer always gets worked up about Bilbo... he was a good sort 'o hobbit... and he likes to keep it that way." Taking some taters, he offers them to the Biggs lad... "Taters?"
Lodinar takes a few more bites of food and hrms. After passing the bread to Gabbo, he says, "Gandalf? Who is that?" Turning to Bodobrus, he laughs hysterically. "Haw haw haw! The moon?! What, is he a little green hobbit with antenners! Ho ho ho ho! Nonsense!"
Getting rather red in the face, the Gaffer shakes his head. "Some folk just are jealous, that's the truth. Someone always wants the mushrooms that grow on their neighbour's hill!"
Imfer hands Gabbo a loaf of bread before saying, "Aye, Bilbo was a perfectly normal gentlehobbit in me opinion, t'was all the fault o' that oddfellow Gandalf, an' them meddlin' longbeards... those dwarfs give me the shivers they do, wit' their... their hairy faces, an' their funny clothes... I should stop now, I'm scarin' meself!"
Lodinar sticks his tongue out in disgust. "Longbeards, blech! I hate them fellows. So rude and obnoxious, they think they own the world! Would someone pass the butter?" He takes a swig of ale, and says, holding his arms out--"Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to offend anyone. I never met the chap. But aint it odd how he just disappeared like that? Where is he? What is he doing? What does that Frodo really know about it," he taps his head with his finger as he says the last part of his sentence.
Gabbo looks abck and forth between the two trays that have been handed his way. "decision time." He murmurs and begins to count off 'einy meeny." The middle-aged hobbit stops and smiels widley,t aking one slice from each loaf. "Thank you both very much.' he says politely, then directing his bright and happy face to Samwise he unburdens the gamgee of the taters. "Thank you Master Gamgee. Theya re quite delicious." He pushe s acouple into his bowl and sets the tray bearing them down ont he table. 'Quite delcious Master Gamgee, quite delicious. Why I've never head better cuisine!" The bright-eyed hobbit goes about arrangingt he food symettrically on his dish before he raises his fork. It is at this point that he notices the third loaf extended to him over the table. Wiht a shrug of his shoulders the Biggs accepts yet anothe rload, taking yet another piece of bread. This throws off the symmetry of his dish, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much as he take a big bite fo fresh bread.
"Tis his business alone, that's what!" mutters the Gaffer, with poison in his voice to Lodinar. "See this here smial? It's all here 'cause of the generousness of Master Bilbo Baggins. He helped me keep me family together, and all... what, when times were tough, and hired me to help keep Bag End beautiful." Snorting again, the Gaffer rips off a large part of his bread. "I don't ask questions that ain't my business!"
Bodobrus coughs a bit, and after passing a loaf of bread to Gabbo, says to Lodinar,"Well, perhaps he's not grown antlers, but mark this, he's on the moon. Gandalf flew him up there. And he'll come back, being the wonderful sort of mushrooms that grow on the moon and the best pipeweed," says Bodo ,"And I hope to be in his favour, as I want myself a pinch of moon-weed, and moon-shrooms."
At Gaffer's reaction, the Took in his late tweens, Lodinar, blinks a few times. He says quietly to the old hobbit, "I'm sorry." He turns his attention to his plate of potatoes and quietly continues eating.
"Now, now," Samwise says, grinning broadly at Gabbo's complimentary words. "Y'see, now, cookin' ain't my most... er... well, I don't know how to make much stuff fancy like--like what they had up at Bag End for Mr. Frodo's birthday party and all. But the simple stuff, like this." Sam extends his hands over the table, and takes a long draught of his beer. "Ahh... hits the spot, I say."
As the FOURTH loaf of bread is passed his way, Gabbo begins to look a bit dismayed. His bowl is apparently full, as is the table before him. With a look to each of the hobbits at the table, he chuckles a bit nervously. "It would seem I've run out of space." He rises somewhat,leaning over to place the tray in the very center of the table. Smiling Gabbo reseats himself and brushes off his hands. "That takes care of that."
Apparently, very frazzled, the Gaffer struggles to stand from his seat. His grey eyebrows are knit tightly over his eyes. "That's 'nough for me, I say. I'm goin' t'get some sleep." He wraps his hand on the table twice, "Sammy! Come now, bring me to bed, and make sure y'clean up the kitchen." Sam, with a polite nod, stands to go with his father. "Keep eating, everyone," he suggests. "And feel free to stay in from the cold as long as you like--I'll be back soon to clean up." With that, the Gamgees vanish down the hall...
Absent-mindedly sliding a loaf of bread toward Gabbo, Lodinar says, as the Gamgees leave, "Boy, that old alespot is quite cooky!" He takes a long swig of ale and lights his pipe again. Lodinar inhales lightly from his pipe, and blows out a dark cloud of smoke, failing at creating a ring.
Noticing the bread approaching, Gabbo becomes quite paniced. He rises abruptly and brushes the crumbs from his lap as he steps back fromt he table. Snatching a piece of bread from hsi bowl he stuffs it into hos pocket and glances around thr the coat which he seems to have left by the fireplace. "I umnn." he eyes that ominous loaf of bread. "Waht's that? I think I hear the misses calling!" Proceeding towards his coat, he slips into it easily. "It has been quite pleasure good sirs, to eat and meet you all. But you understanhd. She gets awfully upset whne I go wandering off." Seeming to forget about his wife and the lurking load Gabbo contiues to speak about hsi wanderings. "Why just the other day I wandered down to Hobbiton central and do you know who I met there? I met a hobbit wearing the brightest clothes I've ever seen, all wrappe dup in a blue cloak! And do you know what he sold me. Why he sold me an antique spoon. Of course the misses was rather frazzled when I returned home. Not only because I'd been out so long,but because I'd bought this dazzling antique spoon..."
Lodinar hems, "That bread fellow is cooky, too," he whispers to Bodobrus.
Standing rather wobblishly up, Imfer nods to everyone. "Well thanks to ye'all fer the dinner, though I'd best be off. Me thanks to the Gamgees, an' to all of ya." The halfling picks up the jar he had brought in with him, lifts the lid, and announces, "Well I'm off, g'night to all. I've got a jar of cookies 'ere, baked by the nice ol' ladies from the OLC, bless their souls. I'll come back t'morrow fer the jar, just help yerselves to the cookies now." With a bow to the assembly Imfer picks his coat and hat off of their pegs, puts them on, and walks out into the Yuletide night.
Doing up his gold painted buttons, Gabbo continues to chatter even as he wraps a scarf tightly about his neck, covering the bottom half of his face. Noticing that Imfer is preparing to leave as well he decides to accompny his fellow diner out, talking and gesturing animatedly all the while. "So she wanted me to take the spoon back to that wonderful saleshobbit, but of course I said no. The two of us then got into a big argument abotu what we should do witht he spoon. Then one night I FINALLY gave in. No you must realize that this was after three days of listening to her nag my ear off. Nag, nag nag. She never stopped nagging! So I took the spoon back down to Hobbiton central, but lo and behold the slaeshobbit ahd already left." he take s adeep breath and continues. 'So when I cam ehome my wife told me to go after him and find him so that I might be refunded. Of course I said no. at first but then one night.. I just had to give in. Like I said before, nag, nag, nag, nag ,nag! So I packed up some warm cloithes..." he fallows Imfer out.
Darting back inside, Gabbo snatches a cookie, smiles to everyone, then chases Imfer back out of the hole yelling. "Wait up sir, wait up! I'm not finished yet!"
Players: Pippin, Filby, Reginald, Slago, Folco, Bodobrus, Riflo, Lotho, Paladin
Located in: Shire Archive
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