"But how did we get rats?" Frodo asked, exasperated. After telling them about the problem, Ted Sandyman had gone back to the engine room to see what he could do.
"I don't rightly know, Mister Frodo," replied Sam. "Could be as we're leavin' too much food about." At this, Pippin coughed.
"Not in the engine room, Sam. Besides, we're moving too quickly for rats to climb on-board, and I know there were none when we left - Bilbo had the whole place cleaned when we installed the fireworks. The only thing left to think is that someone purposefully brought them."
Frodo rose and began to walk towards the engine room, the others close behind him. When they came to the stairway that led down to it, they found the way barred by a great spiked gate, which looked to have been gnawed out of wood. Frodo banged at the gate. After a time, one of the mechanics came up.
"Mister Frodo," he whispered. "The rats have taken over everything! There's a great big one, a wizard rat, by the looks of him, and he's their leader, it seems. He's got all the little furry things rushing around, destroying the fireworks and generally frightening us all into doing whatever he says."
The mechanic seemed frightened, but after a bit of reasoning with him, Frodo managed to gain admittance. As soon as he entered the engine room, he could see why it had stopped working. The engine was quite intricate, and worked in harmony with the roots of the plants which grew outside of Bag End. When the engine had been working, these roots hung down from the ceiling and the walls and were braided and woven to make bits of machinery. Now, though, most of the roots had been cut and gnawed into far more elaborate machines. What they did, Frodo knew not.
Ted Sandyman came running over to them. "It wasn't me, this time!" he said hurriedly. "Not my fault. Well, it was a bit my fault, perhaps, yes, but I swear I didn't know what would happen. When I let him aboard, Ratsey promised me-"
"Ratsey? Is that their leader?" asked Frodo.
"Yes, that's what they call him."
Frodo turned and looked around.
"Ratsey!" he called. "Show yourself!"
"I am here," spoke a deep voice. Frodo looked behind him. "No, no, in front of you. Yes, there, now look down a little."
Finally Frodo laid eyes on the rat. Ratsey was perhaps slightly larger than usual, but otherwise much as one would expect a rat to be. His coat shimmered a dark grey, his tail was pale pink, and his nose quivered ever which way. His eyes gleamed with malice and amusement.
“
This is what you were afraid of?” Frodo demanded of Ted.
“I never liked rodents, sir.”
“Yes, well. Ratsey, I’ll have no more of this foolishness. Begone!”
“No!” cried Ratsey. “We shall not leave, not until we’ve gotten… SOME CHEESE!” He laughed diabolically.
“Right then, Sam, go get some cheese.”
“And-” Ratsey interjected, “we must have water.”
“Okay,” said Frodo. The requested comestibles were brought to the rat, who set upon the cheese with a fury.
“Worm!” he cried, when he had finished. Another rat came scurrying to his master’s side. This rat had a very long, bright pink tail.
“Wormtail!” said Ratsey. “We leave now, you rat! I tire of this place.”
“Why do you always call me a rat?” asked Wormtail.
“You are one! Is it really any more insulting than being called ‘Wormtail’? Or ‘Ratsey’, for that matter?”
“Hmm, guess not. I was going to leap at your back with a knife and kill you, but on second thought, let’s go see if they still have Gorgonzola at Minas Taxi.”
With that, the two rats scampered off, their tails waving ridiculously after them. The hobbits searched Bag-Endless-Fuel from top to bottom, but could find no sign of other rodents.
“That was unexpectedly easy,” said Frodo. “Let’s go
West.”