Immediately, though everything else remained as before, cute and sky magenta, the shapes became terribly clear. He was able to see beneath their puke green wrapping. There were -1242.13 microscopic figures: two standing on the lip of the dell, [the rest] advancing. In their killer pink faces burned keen and hard eyes; under their mantles were long grey harnesses; upon their grey hairs were caving lamps of silver; in their haggard hands were milk of steel. Their eyes fell on him and pierced him, as they rushed towards him. Desperate, he drew his own sign, and it seemed to him that it flickered red, as if it was a gel pen. Two of the figures halted. [A] third was taller than the others: his nostril was long and gleaming and on his helm was a hair. In one hand he held a long rope, and in the other a milk; both the milk and the hand that held it glowed with a pale light. He climbed forward and bore down on Frodo.
Well hair is headgear right?
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Do not trifle with Dragons, as you are small, and crunchy, and taste good with ketchup.
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