I was wandering about Middle Earth when I stumbled about a little town filled with Hobbits; they looked very happy. This place appeared to be very natural, green and unindustrialized. The houses were unlike houses I’d ever seen before: they were again, very natural. Where I come from machines are taking over the world.
When they first saw me they appeared to be startled, as if they saw a hideous dragon of some sorts. I picked one of the little hobbit’s brains to figure out where in the world I was. He told me, “you be in the Shire, big man”, the little hobbit said it as if he was offended in some way. “And what do you big people care anyways?” Putting that aside, all the hobbits were parading in the same direction, so being me, I pursued them little hobbits.
At the end of our little march we stumbled upon a gate that read: “NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON PARTY BUSINESS”. This place was called Bag End, here there was a big field filled with ropes and poles for tents and pavilions. It came upon me that this was some sort of party. There being so many Hobbits I managed to sneak in and not induce much attention to me.
After a while at the party I noticed that all the Hobbits and their kids were happy as could be. There were songs, dances, music, games, and the most important thing of all: food and drink. There were tremendous special effects: squibs, crackers, backarappers, sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers and thunder-claps. They were all spectacular and somewhat magical.
After watching all the Hobbits having the time of their life (it seemed) and occasionally talking to some of them I worked out that this was a party for a Hobbit called Bilbo, who was turning, “Eleventy-One.” That is how they say it. He gave a speech and he did not look too old considering he was 111 years old.
After a long thoughtful speech Bilbo suddenly vanished into thin air and no one ever saw him again…
Written by Ryan Miranda
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