[Diamond18]

To Pimpiowyn Took, daughter of Pipsissewa Took and Éohorse Son of Needahorse (a valiant Man of the Mike) Mogul Bildur appeared to be a gigantic T-bone steak.

No, wait... that was not Mogul, that was the dinner laid before her in the hall she suddenly found herself in. Pimpi gasped as she lifted her eyes and looked about the room -- tables laden with scrumdillyumptious foodstuffs stood in rows, and the scents wafting from them were nothing short of heavenly. Meats, vegetables, fruits, puddings, pies, and candy bars littered the area, and all of it was hers, hers, all hers! She grabbed a knife and fork and began to carve away at her steak.

A door opened to her left, and the scent of freshly baked chocolate cake greeted her nostrils. She looked, and saw Vogonwë carrying a seven layer chocolate cake decorate with pink icing, strawberries, and cream. He huffed and puffed with the weight of the dessert as he rushed to deliver it.

“Delightful!” she cried.

“I’m so happy you like it,” said Vogonwë, setting the cake down next to her plate of steak. “I was a little worried that giving up poetry to become a Master Chef would leave me bored and dissatisfied, but that was before I realized that food preparation is an act of creative expression unrivaled by all other art forms.”

At first Pimpi worried that, as good as everything looked and smelled, Vogonwë would prove to be as talented a Chef as he was a poet. But as she mowed down her steak and set in upon the cake, she marveled at the perfection with which they were prepared.

“Do you like it?” Vogy asked anxiously, hovering over the crumbs solicitously. “If you like it I shall be ever so pleased and I will never bother with poetry again, who needs it anyway? I’ll spend all my days crafting dishes for your enjoyment!”

“I love it,” Pimpi mumbled around a mouthful of mashed potatoes (the creamiest mashed potatoes she’d ever mumbled around). “I never knew you were so good with food!”

“I wasn’t, not until Mogul taught me, anyway,” Vogonwë said. “He’s a far better cook than I, but he’s made me his protégé and I am ever so honored. And I’m happy you’re happy, darling, so happy that I’m going to go back to the kitchen and make spaghetti.”

“With meatballs?”

“Whatever your heart desires. We have endless supplies of food.”

“Delightful!” she cried, spitting bits of creamy mashed potato onto his shirt.

Vogonwë left, and Pimpi spent the next indefinite time period gorging herself on the goodies. She ate bacon and eggs, split pea soup with ham, chicken salad on croissants, roast beef sandwiches, pickles, glazed donuts, creamed filled donuts, jelly-filled donuts, donut holes, figgy pudding, cheese and crackers, baked yams, corn on the cob dripping with butter and crunchy with salt, Golden Delicious apples, seven layer salad, lasagna, pizza, chili, double fudge brownies, peanut butter, coffee cake, carrot cake, yellow cake, angel cake, pound cake, fruit cake, orange marmalade cake, cheese curds, French fries, potato chips, fish sticks, corn cakes, Caesar salad, bratwursts, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, baked beans, string beans, fava beans, a nice Chianti, focaccia bread, chocolate chip cookies, pickled beets, lembas, string cheese....

Etc. etc. etc.

Through all of this, Pimpi never felt uncomfortably full or even the least bit gassy. She ate and drank, ate and drank, ate and drank to her heart’s delight, and quick glances in the mirror showed her that she still looked lithe and graceful doing it. Periodically Vogonwë came in and asked her if everything was to her liking and took orders for whatever fancy struck her palate, but otherwise he did not make himself a nuisance, and never once tried to make his words rhyme.

Presently, she heard sounds of battle from outside. She paused and peeked out the window. There, she saw Merisuwyniel surrounded by dozens of foul orcs, dragons, and dwimmerlaiks, whatever those are. Merisu, though holding up her lopsided end of the fight admirably, was fair on her way to being soundly beaten. She put a hand to her head and cried, “Oh how I wish my faithful sidekick in shieldmaidenry were here to help me!” spitting bits of creamy mashed potato onto the orcs’ shirts.

Pimpi groped at her waist for Hush, and when her hand closed around the bejewelled hilt of her trusty dagger, she sprang forth from the dining hall onto the field of battle. With Pimpi now by her side, Merisu cried out in joy, and the two of them made short order of the bothersome foes. Pimpi moved with grace and agility, not hampered in any way by the amount of food she had stuffed into to her face.

After the foes were vanquished, Merisu approached Pimpi, admiration shining in her eyes. “Pimpiowyn, you have saved my life this day, and I am forever in your debt.”

“I am honored to serve by your side,” said Pimpi, glowing.

At that moment, Vogonwë appeared at her side, holding out a velvet pillow on which resided a plateful of shortbread cookies. “To celebrate your victory,” he said.

Stamped upon the cookies was the design of a (very handsome) nose.