Mablung's off tune sining voice rang through the tiny underground milking room as he happily adorned Gene the cow with tinsel.
"later on...milk expires...as it sits...by the fire"
Beleg rolled his eyes at Turin who was silently cursing Daeron for teaching Mablung his new holiday carols.
The minstrel in question glared daggers at the ex-march warden who was butchering his song.
"Mablung, it's we'll conspire not milk expires"
Mablung shrugged and continued to decorate the depressing cellar for the annual winter celebrations.
The four were spending their time in the decrepit musty room in a vain attempt to "liven it up" for Thingol's presumably terrible work party.
After four hours of chasing away spiders and listening to Mablung's sining, Turin was beginning to suspect that this was merely a way to get them away from the real planning, not that he could blame his foster father.
The last special event that Beleg and Mablung were part of was the yenial Wolf Hunt. It was rumored that Thingol only gave Beren the honor to come along so that he could die and leave Luthien alone. The old elf king kept on rambling about how it would mean that Beren fulfilled his quest and that he and Luthien could finally be together, and how he wanted Beren to call him Ada...and Beren bought that. Of course Turin knew how well that went; Beleg and Mablung hid behind a bush while Thingol hid behind Beren and Beren his behind a dead dog. Sad...
"Pa rum pum pum pum, rum, pum pum pum, me and my rum."
Daeron was beginning to regret taking up on Thingol's offer to babysit the three,
"Mablung, it's a very symbolic song and it's me and my drum not me and my rum speaking of which Beleg's been drinking eggnog for three and a half hours now, care to explain why you don't run out?"
Beleg responded by giving the large tank that usually held water an affectionate whack.
I told Mablung that he could paint the cow all he wanted as long as he filled up on eggnog.
Sighing and thinking that he'd at least get some free eggnog out of the day's labours, Daeron tossed Beleg a cup and motioned for him to fill up.
The archer looked slightly apologetic
"What if I told you that Turin and I drank the entire tank while you and Mablung were doing all the work?"
Daeron wasn't surprised at their antics, though he was wondering how Turin was remaining upright. It was a tank large enough for a grown man to lie in and from what he heard, Edain were not the most tolerant to alcohol.
"I'd make a bet that Beleg can't shoot to save his life, and that Turin would have trouble walking in a straight line."
The two friends looked at each other before responding,
"Okay, how about if I win Beleg has to be in a commercial for Strongbow Cider Beer, and Turin has to bring Saeros along for an entire shift of patrol duty and not insult, main, kill, or seriously injure him."
"and if we win?" slurred Turin
"If you win, than I will clean up tonight's holiday party for you."
"No way, not fair in the slightest." shot Beleg
"Fine," retorted the minstrel, "I will also clean up Gene, deal?"
Mablung who was trying to fasten a wreath around Gene's head rather than pay attention to the historical event taking place next to him just turn to refill his glass when it dawned on him.
"No, not the rum! The rum is gone! Why? Why is the rum gone?"