My Fool has finished. He's now stamping around the house vowing he will never ever ever ever ever transcribe another piece of music into abc notation. Ever. Actually, I think it's all just a sign of his incompetence. Quite frankly, how hard can it be? You listen to it, you write it down. Simple. I don't get what all this silly fuss is about. If he wasn't such a moron he'd do an awful lot better, let me tell you.
Anyway, more about me. That's what my avid readers want. I celebrated my release by hanging out in Bree with that nasty bagpipe man and Casin. We didn't actually play any music, which is probably a very good thing, as I think I saw Beor had his pipes, but we visited Beortich, Beortrich, Beortuck, Beorthich.... Beorsomething who was flogging stuff off cheap by the fountain. I bought a sack of smokes that he said was Southfarthing, and lit up.
If that was Southfarthing then I'm a bobbit. A couple of smokes later I was babbling like a baby. Wham. Aegthil's down and out for the count.
I woke up hours later with my mouth tasting like a dwarfs' urinal, and a head the size of Mount Doom. Beor hadn't even bothered to pull me out of the fountain.
Super cool. I need to find Beorthich again, and replenish my supplies.