FB stared, crestfallen, as the fire in the fireplace melted his frying pan. The bacon looked a bit too well-done. He made as if to rescue it, then had second thoughts. Suddenly, he didn't feel hungry, even though it was over an hour since his first breakfast!
As per usual, things hadn't turned out quite as he expected. Fancy Tiggy... he looked across to the titan gorging herself at the dining table... Fancy Queen Tygarya guessing about Gandalf. There'd be trouble now, and no mistake.
He picked up the little wrap of eggs from the floor, and sighed. He must have trod on them when Tygarya did all that hand waving stuff: when the room went all sparkly. Now, that had been a show-stopper, and no mistake.
Oh well, there's no use crying over ... broken eggs. He had a pony outside and a long journey to...
From outside came the long, unmistakable howl of a wolf. Then another. And another.
Yep, things had definitely taken a turn for the worse.
"Well then, er, Tiggy..."
A flash of blood red eyes...
"Er,, Queen Tygarya, I mean. Silly me." he mopped his brow with a big, red-spotted handkerchief, then quickly put it away, as the pattern looked like bloodspots, and he really didn't want to go down that particular route..
"I think I should be on my way. It's been ever so nice, chatting and all, but time's getting on you know, and the job put off's longest finished...." He began to slide to the exit. Tygarya watched him, like a bored cat eyeing a mouse, and FB got the distinct impression that if she had a tail, it'd be twitching. His slide became a shuffle, then his shuffle became a run, and FB was flying down the huge stone steps to the outside as though all the demons of hell were on his heels.
And as sure as he knew that "eggs is eggs", oh dear!, they very well might be.
It'd been fun in Minas Morgul.
For a while.
But truth be told.
It wasn't Hobbiton.