The four of us took some directions from the kindly innkeeper and made it to a modest rafting service called Bucklebury Ferry and traveled down the Brandywine River about twenty miles. The trip was fine if not a bit crowded. Fitting the four of us, plus the horses made it a bit difficult to stay balanced, but we lost too much time already to take a second trip.
Along the way, we ran into our other cohorts who gave me a full report on the possible drug activity. Apparently, these guys can’t do anything right, because not only do I not have any proof of drug activity, but these bozos also ended up killing a guy. Jimbo said he was just riding along, swinging his sword around (which I warned him before not to do) and it ended up giving some poor schmuck his last haircut. I reminded him that our mission didn't have any room in the itinerary for wild random slaughter.
I pulled my horse over to lean against a tree and get control of my emotions. We must have been near Hobbiton because I noticed there were four kids hiding under the root of the tree, all with excellent perms. They must have been taking their hide & seek game very seriously because they didn’t even react to the spiders and bugs crawling on them.
Three things happened in the next few moments. Number one, I noticed my sinuses had finally cleared up. Number two, I decided I was gonna be cool and not give these kids away to whoever they were playing with. Number three, one of the kids threw a satchel and they all ran off in the other direction. Being far more interested in a free satchel, I ran to retrieve it.
The nine of us looked inside to find it full of mushrooms. These kids weren’t playing hide and seek! They were narcotic couriers! I knew there was some drug activity going on! Not wasting any time, we hurried in the direction of the kids.
Using our superior tracking skills and the trail of abnormally large footprints (inbreeding must have been rampant around here.), we traced the kids back to the ferry. They were trying to take off with it. I hauled ass to catch up with them, but by the time I got to the dock, they were already on the river. I tried to yell, “We got your bag here!” but my sinuses were congested again so it came out as a girly shriek.
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I decided we should just call it a night, go back to the Prancing Pony, get some rest, and try not to kill anyone else. On the way back to Bree, Gary got the idea that since we’d been so good and not killed anyone all day, that we should treat ourselves and gestured to the satchel of mushrooms. I protested at first, but Gary has a knack for persuasion when he really wants something. I didn’t know much about “shrooming” as the kids call it, so I wanted to take it easy on my first trip. I ate about fifteen stems and twelve caps each just to see how it would hit me.
At first, we felt nothing and thought maybe there wasn’t any drug activity after all. These mushrooms must have just been for cooking and medicine. We fed the rest to the horses. I kept the bag as an early Winter Solstice present to myself and soon, things started to get weird. Nothing changed in a psychedelic sense, but I was beginning to feel angry, happy, and excited all at the same time, all at extreme levels. I wanted to hug my eight cohorts all at the same time, but I also wanted to tear their heads off and throw them into space! I wanted to drink all the water in the river just to prove that I could! I wanted to pull the moon down with my bare hands and say, “Who’s the badass now!?”
My train of thought stopped abruptly as I noticed that Kyle, Kevin, Gary, and I were in Bree in what appeared to be an hour and a half trip condensed into five minutes. Where the other five cohorts are, I do not know. Apparently, we just knocked over the front gate and killed the night watchman. So much for the itinerary. Hoping no one noticed, we headed for the Prancing Pony and were greeted by a familiar face. “Good evening, regular-sized maste- Oh, it’s you guys come on in.”
“THANK YOU, GENTLEMAN SIR!” I yelled, trying to appear sober. We took to our beds, only to be reminded of the bedbugs from last night. Not this time! This time the bedbugs were gonna get it. My cohorts had the same idea as we raised our swords and began stabbing away. Once we were sure every last bedbug was dead, we pulled up the sheets to discover that the bedbugs had all turned into goose down! We freaked out and began tearing apart the room. I flipped over the beds, Kyle started pulling up floorboards, Kevin ripped the toilet out of the wall and threw it out the window, and I’m pretty sure I heard Gary shout, “I got blisters on my fingers!”
We are here to rest up, but it’s hot in here and I’m not tired anymore. I’ll never be tired again. Sleep is for the weak. I want to write more but the future isn’t coming fast enough! It’s so hot in here! We’re going to Weathertop! I’m sure there’s plenty of future to write about at Weathertop. Man, it is just so hot in here!