One fine day in the Shire Frodo, Merry and Pippin were wandering aimlessly across the fields (well, that's what they say but everyone knows they're slowly making their way to the Green Dragon). They finally made it back onto the road but had to immediately jump back as a horse cantered past. Pippin fell over as he jumped back, on top of Frodo who was behind him and he grabbed hold of Merry to try and steady himself but ended up dragging him down as well. The horse turned and trotted towards the small pile of Hobbit.

The horse was bright white and reflected the sun's rays all round, blinding the Hobbits so they couldn't see whom or what was on top.

"Bloody hell!" cried Pippin, trying to shield his eyes "Couldn't you turn your horse down a bit? Or at least cover it up!"

"Oh I am dreadfully sorry my young Hobbit." Said a silvery voice from up above. The Hobbits gazed in wonder as a beautiful Elf dismounted and sent her horse to stand in the shade. The Elf-lady had long flowing, blonde hair, but at night it turned jet black. Her eyes were pure gold, and a little off-putting to others when they first saw her. They stared in awe up at her, captured by her beauty and their eyes were roving all over her body (I can't help it if Hobbits are perverted). She wore a low-cut purple dress, which shimmered and changed colour whenever she moved, it was once her mother's, given to her by a lover before she was brutally murdered in an attack by Orcs. Her hair was free flowing and God only knows how she kept it knot free, but she did.

"Good Morrow my friends." The Hobbits were at once under the spell of her voice and drooled continuously as she spoke. "Would one of you happen to know where the Blue Mountains are? I am on my way there to avenge my Father's death at the hands of the wild men that live there." Wait a minute, did I hear that correctly? Wild men live in the Blue Mountains? It's the First I've heard of them.oh sorry, continuing with the story. The Hobbits all nodded and pointed vaguely down the road. "Thankyou my little men." She finished as she turned back towards her horse. Merry snapped out of his trance.

"Excuse me! We are not little men thankyou very much! We are Hobbits and we're damn proud of it! Aren't we?" he finished, elbowing the others, who nodded vigorously.

"And, if you don't mind me asking," continued Frodo "Do you really talk like that? Or are you just putting it on?"

"Certainly not!" Replied the Elf, whose name happened to be Brilthonien "I was brought up good and proper! I mean properly!"

"Yeah," replied Frodo, "Sure you were!"

"So you do not talk like this?"

"No, and it's don't"

"But I thought you did, you did in the book." Finished Brilthonien disappointedly.

"Well, we do when we're being followed by an author, but not any other time.

"An author? You mean like that one over there?" She said pointing to a figure crouching in the long grass. The figure stood up and yelled

"I'm not here!" then quickly sat back down again.

"Yeah," joined Merry, "Like the figure- I mean woman said, she's not here"

"All right then." Said Brilthonien as she backed away towards her horse. But before she could get there a hoard of Orcs, small Orcs, but Orcs (how many times can I say Orcs in one sentence?) came flying towards them down the road and Brilthy immediately went into battle mode. With one hand she was shooting arrows by the dozen, with the other she was chopping with her sword and she was stabbing with daggers concealed on the bottom of each of her boots. The Hobbits were going to ask how on earth she was still standing while doing all this but thought better of it.

Finally all of the enemy were slain and then came their wives and children to mourn them, their wives and children who were hobbits. Brilthy was truly baffled.

"You twit!" shouted Pippin, "Today was the Battle of Greenfields re- enactment day!"

"Oh." Said Brilthy as she swiftly got onto her horse and galloped off into the sunset.the sunset at 1 O'clock in the afternoon.