[Celuien]

Panakeia cautiously picked her way down the steps. Walking with one stiletto heeled shoe and one flat shoe was a challenge at any time, more so while attempting to carry a heavy sample case down an unevenly graded, crowded, litter-strewn flight of stairs. Shoved from behind by a large man in a business suit who was in a rush, she was only saved from falling by tipping into a woman ahead of her.

She turned to face Panakeia. Her red, teary eyes were nearly swollen shut from conjunctivitis. Phlegm ran down her face from a raging cold. "Ere, wbbuy duch oo ink oo're goin?" she mumbled through a stuffy nose.

"I beg your pardon?" Panakeia replied.

"Wbbuy duch oo ink ere oo're goin?" the woman repeated in a louder tone. "Oo puched me."

Panakeia thought for a moment, trying to figure out what the woman was saying. "Oh, I see. Sorry about that. It was an accident."

The woman shrugged. Suddenly her face contorted, nose wrinkled, upper lip drawn back, and eyes squeezed even more tightly shut than before. She grabbed at Panakeia's scarf, which was instantly pulled back by a ducking Panakeia, and sneezed, spraying the business-suited man behind with cold virus. He began to yell. Snickering, Panakeia wove through the crowd, now stopped to gawk at the confrontation, and reached the bottom of the steps. A large map of the BilddyUnnergrind stood there, covered in used chewing gum and graffiti. The graffiti puzzled Panakeia. Most of it was the usual stuff of Mordor, illegible scrawls and scribbles. But mixed in with the waving lines were several messages such as "No new fare increases" "Down with the Transit Authority" "Fûmës for Transit Chief" and "Free Willy!" All of the material obscured the map so much that it was impossible to read, other than the words "You" and "here" on a red dot above Rût’s Lip Garden Station. The "are" was covered by a particularly large piece of gum. Panakeia pulled her map out of her pocket. Now that she had a better idea of where she was, the map made more sense. Red line to Potted Ham Court Road, change trains for Edge-Where. Seems simple enough.

Off she went to find a ticket counter. The line stretched back all the way to the stairs and didn't appear to be moving. Panakeia stood her sample case on end and sat down. At least it's good for something. I've lugged it around long enough. She waited. And waited. And waited. Panakeia began to despair. What's taking so long? I'll never make it to Edge-Where on time. But at last, she stood at the head of the line. An Orc stood behind the counter, snapping gum in her mouth. Panakeia thought she recognized the shade of blonde the Orc had dyed her hair. It was the same as Panakeia's, wrought through the wonders of Pearie Ockcide Potion.

"Good morning, afternoon, evening and morning again! Welcome to the Rût’s Lip Garden Station. My name is Tiffany. It is my pleasure to serve you with a smile." Here she smiled, baring a row of yellow, jagged teeth. One was gold, and another had Tiffany's gum on it. "How may I assist you today?"

"I'm going to Edge-Where."

Tiffany nodded. "Yes, indeed. Edge-Where. Edge-Where? Hmm. I'm very sorry, but it's not on this line. Perhaps you would like to visit Chance of Rain instead?" she queried hopefully. "I hear the weather is beautiful there."

Panakeia tapped her foot impatiently. "No. Edge-Where. This line goes to Potted Ham Court Road, true?"

"Indeed it does, madam."

"Well, then you change trains for Edge-Where, can't you?"

Tiffany looked puzzled. "I'll have to ask my supervisor. Please wait." Tiffany hung a "Closed" sign and vanished. 20 minutes passed. Tiffany returned, carrying two tickets in her hand.

"My deepest apologies for the inconvenience. You are correct. Here are your tickets. One to Potted Ham Court Road, and the next to Edge-Where at the end of the Grey Line. The southbound track is to your right, my left. Or is it my right, your left. In any case, the track is that way." Tiffany pointed to the left. "3 Trolls, 75 Maggots, please."

Panakeia stopped. "Wait. The fare is 2 Trolls, 50 Maggots."

Tiffany smiled and nodded. "Yes, that is correct. But we charge half-fare for transfers."

"Oh, alright. Prices always go up. Don't they ever go down?"

The smile faded from Tiffany's face. Her eyes widened and her voice dropped to a raspy whisper. "You aren't one of the Fûmësists, are you?"

"Tiffany, I had never heard of this Fûmës before today, and I wish I never had." Panakeia slammed her fare down on the counter and snatched her tickets. "I just want to get to Edge-Where." She stormed off to the track. At the edge of the platform, three street-musicians, clad in brightly colored striped shirts, stood tuning their instruments. The instruments were odd. One was white and round as a Hobbit's window. The two others looked somewhat more ordinary, shaped similarly to a fiddle, but with a large hole in the center. All three musicians held their instruments in front on them. One of them then stood in front of the rest and began to speak at the top of his voice.

"These are the times that try our souls. In the course of our history, the people of Lûndûn have rallied bravely whenever the rights of men, women, Orcs, or individuals of any gender, nationality or species have been threatened. Today, a new crisis has arisen. The Mordor Transit Authority, better known as the M. T. A., is attempting to levy a burdensome tax on the population in the form of a BilddyUnnergrind fare increase. Citizens, hear me out!" He gave added emphasis to each of his next words, as if in warning. "This could happen to you!"

All three began to pluck their instruments. And the man began to sing.

Well, let me tell you of the story of a man named Willy on a tragic and fateful day.
He put ten Crows in his pocket, kissed his wife and family, went to ride on the M. T. A.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.

Here, the other two performers injected.

What a pity! Poor ole Willy. Shame and scandal. He may ride forever. Just like Earendil.

He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Willy handed in his Crows at the Ents Stand Square Station and he changed for Chance Of Rain.
When he got there the conductor told him, one more Warg. Willy couldn't get off of that train.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Now, all night long Willy rides through the station, crying, “What will become of me?!!”
How can I afford to see my sister in Uruk-bridge or my cousin in Queen’s Bury?

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Willy's wife goes down to the Rût’s Lip Garden Station every day at quarter past two.
And through the open window she hands Willy a sandwich as the train comes rumblin' through.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.

Now, you citizens of Lûndûn, don't you think it's a scandal how the people have to pay and pay?
Fight the fare increase! Vote for Eckaust Fûmës! Get poor Willy off the M. T. A.

Well, did he ever return? No, he never returned and his fate is still unknown.
He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Lûndûn. He's the man who never returned.
He's the man who never returned. He's the man who never returned.

The lead singer turned to face the track. “Ain't you Willy?” he wailed.

As if in reply, a train came rushing down the track. A haggard looking man leaned out the window, and the assembled crowd called out “Willy! There’s Willy! We’ll save you. Free Willy!” And a woman hurried up to the still moving train with a brown paper bag. As it stopped, she handed the bag to Willy. A cheer went up, and half of the people in the crowd tossed coins to the musicians, who promised to take it directly to Mr. Eckaust Fûmës to aid his campaign and hopefully, save Willy from his terrible fate.

Panakeia rolled her eyes. "Oh please. Another political campaign stunt. Ridiculous."

A gullible man next to Panakeia stood wiping tears from his eyes. "How can you say that? Poor Willy!"

Panakeia shook her head. "Look at all the money. If they were really trying to help this Willy, don't you think they would just hand him the extra Warg? They have at least 20 Trolls there. My guess is that Willy is in on this too. It's a brilliant plan."

The man's expression changed as he considered Panakeia's words. But he said "No, I don't believe you. No one would ever be so dishonest."

What a fool, Panakeia thought to herself. Seems like a perfect customer. Just as she was preparing to work a sales pitch on him for some Instant Bodybuilder Protein Shakes, the train doors opened and the conductor came out onto the platform.

"All aboard for the southbound red line. All aboard for South Rût’s Lip, Orc Hold, and points south. All aboard."

Panakeia stood up, lifted her sample case, and shuffled toward the train. As she reached the edge of the platform, the doors began to shut. "No!" she cried. With a final effort, Panakeia shoved ahead and slipped onto the train just as the doors closed behind her.