Gravlox was not the only one attracted to the path less traveled on. Pimpiowyn's Hobytla nature prompted her to follow the nice and cozy downward slope of another spiraling hallway, which was as sinister in its appearance as a slide at a park. That is to say, very.
She thought that she could smell an enticing aroma beckoning to her from the bowels of the terrible tower, and followed the scent in the hopes that said tower would regurgitate whatever it was that it had eaten, for her.
“Mmm,” she thought, “do I smell bacon?”
*sniff* “And sticky buns?”
*sniff sniff* “And tender quail heads in a light plum sauce, served with a side of turtle soup and…and vichyssoise?”
She paused. “Two soups? All right!”
She continued walking, sniffing at the air, identifying the other scrumptious odors that pervaded the winding halls. She did not even notice the maze-like twists and turns and cutbacks and cutthroats, so engrossed was she with her olfactory feasting.
It was not until maybe an hour or two later, that she came to a dead end. She was deep, deep underground, and as she stared at the tombstone of the end, she became aware that the air no longer smelt of spelt or any other food stuff. It had a damp, creepy-crawly, earthy smell, which would only have been appetizing if she was in the habit of eating dirt or worms (which she wasn’t).
Pimpi shuddered with cold, and saw her own breath fill the air like a cloud. She turned around and tried to retrace her steps, but half and hour later, she had to admit that she was completely, utterly, hopelessly, lost. She did not recognize any of the tunnels which she traversed, and every path led her to yet another dead end, complete with tombstones and epitaphs.
“Oh no,” she sighed. “What am I to do?”
Then she stomped her foot impatiently and said, “If only O Lando…or Vogonwë was here. Males…they’re always hanging around when you don’t need them, but get into a little trouble and they’re nowhere to be found!”
“Ain’t that the truth,” a cold voice answered from the vicinity of the nearby headstone.
Pimpi turned around and ran as fast as her half-hobbit limbs would carry her. She came to a four-way intersection and stopped. It was then that she was reminded of the existence of her stomach, and the emptiness thereof.
“Oh, I’m so hungry,” she groaned, calculating the hours since last she had eaten. She searched through her pockets for a bite to eat, but found nothing, not even a crumb too small for a mouse.
“I wish someone was with me,” she sobbed, “someone who had some food…”
Even as she said this, she recalled with horror the words of Orogarn Two just before the Battle of Gol Dulldor:
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I saw a half-starved half-halfing standing alone and foodless.
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“And so it has come to pass! I’m lost…lost, and I can never go home!” she wailed in a moment of high drama. “I’d give anything to see a humanoid face, or what the heck, even a draconic one! I’d even welcome that foul monster if he had some Doritos… And I’d even forswear all memory of O Lando if only that stupid half-elven boyfriend of mine would get his pirouetting behind down here to rescue me!”
Exhausted with this angst-filled soliloquy, she sunk down to the cold stones and cried herself to sleep.
[ April 01, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]