Frodo is clearly a teenager; he's a self-obsessed, selfish, annoying little whiner. What more to say? Not that my Fool doesn't love his own teenagers (even I don't really mind them), but that doesn't stop them being all of those things at times. Sometimes all at once.
I finally made it to Rivendell. I thought that Lord Elrond would have been delighted to see me, and I'm sure he was, even though he didn't show it. I had a wee look around the Last Haunted House, or whatever pretentious name he calls it, and found this little hobbit person thing, called Frodo. Never heard of him before, but he seemed to be important, with his own rooms and all. How does he get a fancy suite and I don't? Something is not right in the state of Rivendell, that much is clear.
At any rate, Hi I say brightly. hi says Frodo, with a very definite lower case h. Gawd, I thought, what's got into you? I was just about to get the hell out of there (I can't stand whiners) when he asks me to go for a walk with him. Well, I'm a handsome guy, why wouldn't he? I was a bit weirded out by this, but I thought, the guy's a midget, he can't hurt me, so why not. And off we go.
Foolish mistake. Whine whine, moan, moan, I'm so unhappy, oh I don't know what to do (like I give a horse's turd, you little runt), I am so alone (I wonder why), life is so full of indecision and uncertainty and I don't want to hurt my friends and they are in danger and I'm in danger and I'm so afraid, on and on and on and on and on, and all the while he's walking REALLY SLOWLY! I'm supposed to walk with him, but that's hardly possible the speed he's going. Never going to end, this little walk, I think to myself. Never going to end. Never. Going. To. End. Why don't I just kill him myself, put him out of his misery. The world deserves that.
The way he's going on you'd think the fate of the world rests on his shoulders. What a lot of pretentious twaddle.
Look, Froddles, I just met you. I don't know you. I don't even like you. You're short, you're ugly, you're stupid. I'm handsome, successful, rich, talented. Tell me again, why should I keep listening to your pathetic whining? Oh, no reason? Can't think of one? Goodness, neither can I. Toodles, buster, jump off a bridge.
So I got out of there soon as I could. Back to sanity. Yeah right. With all those pointy-eared elves around? I don't think so. But back to the Dancing Goat and ol' Butterface, where I am now immured, unable to leave, and forced to listen to the bar-room screeching. My Fool has a lot to answer for. He says he's "travelling" again. Pfft. I suspect he is merely lazy.