The importance of looking your best

I finally found myself a proper outfit to wear during performances. I know you will all be delighted. Feel free to cheer. My Fool has finally figured out how to include a picture here, and so that is my own very handsome self over to the side. That is what famous minstrels are supposed to wear.

And, not surprisingly, it has had an immediate effect on the hearts of the ladies of Bree. Well, why wouldn't it? Who could resist, I ask you?

Together with some other members of Aegthil's Social and Participatory Mountain and Valley Orchestral Band, I played in an impromptu concert outside the Dancing Goat in Bree. I hesitate to call it a musical performance, as Beorbrand played the bagpipes. I think a very good argument can be made that any performance including bagpipes cannot possibly be called musical. They are a vile contraption, fit only for the amusement of inanimate objects like fish. Maybe pigs, too. Why any self-respecting person would ever blow into them is entirely beyond my comprehension.

Mind you, is Beor really self-respecting? I suspect he might not be. His face, to be sure, bears a remarkable resemblance to the rear end of his horse. It was a bit hard to tell which way he was facing while sitting on his horse. If I had a face like that, blowing into bagpipes, I think I'd ask to be put down. The visual picture of bagpipes inserted into a horse's arse is disturbing.

Moving right along, let me get to the real point. While I was playing I noticed that I was being explicitly admired by a red-haired member of the audience. She was clearly quite taken with my good looks (as opposed to Beor's) and my super-duper sexy outfit. I could tell she was having trouble restraining herself from throwing herself at my feet. I don't think she noticed my minor drooling problem, but even if she had I'm sure that wouldn't have mattered at all. A handsome face and extreme talent conquers all.

She smiled at me. I smiled at her.

So, when we took a break (to ingest mind-altering substances) I introduced myself. Not that I needed to, she would have known very well who I am, everybody does of course, but it's best to be polite. It turns out that she speaks a foreign language and is a bit difficult to understand, but I think I gathered that her name is Renia, or Wrenia, or Wrenaya or something like that. There was some dork standing beside her, but I've no idea what his name was. Don't care either. I didn't pay any attention to him, of course, him being a dork and all, not to mention that he was trying to attract Renia's attention too.

Fat chance. I've got the looks, I've got the talent. And now, I've got the groupies. All is as it should be.