When Mr. Bobo Gaggings of Bog End announced to the whole Ire that he was holding his one hundred and somethingeth birthday party, the whole Ire groaned. Although a respectable Hoppit, Bobo Gaggings was not much of a cook. This was mostly because of his terrible cough that was unfortunately common among his family. Hence the name of Gaggings. Bobo would prepare the most wonderful looking dishes and them cough and phlegm in them, and only occasionally by accident. However, all those invited agreed to come out of courtesy.

Bobo Gaggings spared no expense on this party. He bought the finest paper plates and Styrofoam cups in the Ire. He had sent a letter, asking his old friend, Gandaft the Dreary to come with some of his famous sparklers. He also put directions to the Ire in his letter, seeing as Gandaft could not usually find his way to the bathroom, let alone the Ire. On the day of the party, Gandaft arrived with a cartload of sparklers. He used to make fireworks but the elves had forbidden him to do so ever since one of his rockets hit Lord Bellron of Rankensmell in the unmentionable area.

Gandaft knocked at the round door of Bog End with his battered staff (mostly due to a great deal of spells that had gone wrong).
    "Bugger off!" came the reply from inside. "I'm in the middle of making a treacle tart!" There came a loud coughing sound and what distinctly sounded like someone spitting. The door was opened by Bobo's nephew, Hobo Gaggings.
    "Gandaft!" cried the young Hoppit. "Is it really you?" The wizard looked incredibly puzzled.
    "I'm not entirely sure. Is that my name? Some guy down the road called me 'crazy git'. People shouldn't get in the way of carts, that's dangerous that is!" Hobo showed the senile wizard in, who bumped his head several times before he figured out that he had to duck to get in.

Bobo came into the hall, wearing a pink apron with the words 'Complaints to ye cook can be hazardous to thy health!' on it.
    "And about bloody time too! Brought your sparklers, I hope." Gandaft thought for a minute or thirty, and finally answered.
    "I think so..." Of course, by the time he answered, Hobo and Bobo had unloaded all the sparklers, taken them down to the field and returned to Bog End.

    "Well then," said Bobo, rubbing his hands and smiling with an obvious hint of malice, "this should be a night to remember."

The party was going well. Nobody had any complaints to make of the starter or main course and all the sick bags everyone had brought with them were lying unused. The booze was of the finest quality and everyone was actually enjoying themselves. When everyone had finished the main course (roasted Warg) and were eagerly awaiting dessert, Bobo stood to make a speech.
    "My dear Hoppits. I wish I could list all the families here today, but in the hundred something years I have been living I simply have not been arsed to learn your names. I do not wish to know you any better than I do now, and I like you all as much as you deserve, you useless sacks of crap."

The Hoppits got the impression that Bobo was insulting them. The entire party therefore ignored Bobo and started on dessert. Everyone that is except Hobo, Ham (Bog End's gardener), Berry and Poppin (Hobo's cousins) who found it extremely hilarious. Gandaft just smiled pleasantly and tried to remember why he was in this awful place. Bobo continued his speech.
    "I am quite happy to announce that this is the end. I am leaving this tip now and I hope to never return. Goodbye." As quick as a flash, Bobo slipped on his magic ring and ran to Bog End. Nobody noticed however, because all the Hoppits were making good use of their sick bags, especially those who tried the treacle tart.

In Bog End, Bobo slipped off the ring, and after a long fit of coughing (due to all the running), he pocketed it. He began to pack for his journey. Just the basics, food, water, his pipe and contraceptives. He was about to leave when the door flew open and Hobo ran in, Gandaft waddling along behind him.
    "Uncle Bobo, what happened back there?" asked Hobo in an annoyingly high voice. Bobo cringed.
    "God, isn't it about time you hit puberty, Hobo my lad? Anyway, I slipped this ring on and used it to get back up here. It's the ring I found in Bollum's cave all those years ago."
    "But isn't it supposed to make you invisible?"
    "Course not. Where would you get a daft idea like that?" scolded Bobo. "This ring makes you odourless, when you put it on, nobody can smell you. Dead handy for a Hoppit."

    "Odourless!" cried Gandaft suddenly, startling both Bobo and Hobo. "That reminds me of something that I've just forgotten again!" Hobo noticed that the wizard's hand was covered in something.
    "Gandaft, your hand!" exclaimed Hobo. Gandaft looked at his own hand in astonishment.
    "Oh yes, I wrote down what I was supposed to remember. Useful things, hands, you can write all sorts of stuff on em." He started to read. "This is not just any ring, but the One Wing, made by the Not Too Nice Lord, Thauron. It was cut from his hand by Prince Stilladoor. The One Wing is very dangerous and needs to be taken to Rankensmell. That's all I could fit on my hand."
    "The One 'Wing'? Why is it pronounced 'Wing'?" enquired Hobo.
    "It's obvious, isn't it?" said Bobo, "The Not Too Nice Lord Thauron has a lisp, so it's a Wing, not a ring. Simple enough for you?" Bobo picked up his backpack and headed for the door, firmly placing the Wing in Hobo's hand.
    "Bobo, I would have thought that you wanted to keep the Wing. I thought you'd put up more resistance?" said Hobo.
    "Hmm? Nah, sod the Wing and sod Thauron. It only makes you odourless. When you've had it as long as I have, being odourless just becomes boring. Well, cheerio, I'm out of this dump for good." And with that Bobo was once again on the road. He tripped up as soon as he stepped out the door and spent the rest of the journey cursing very loudly.

Hobo looked to the moronic wizard next to him.
    "What must I do?" he asked in a subtle, dramatic way that would make Peter Jackson proud.
    "Don't have a clue," replied Gandaft, he raised his palm to Hobo's face. "Talk to the hand." Hobo quickly read what was still on his hand.
    "The Wing must go to Rankensmell, and I must take it there."
    "Must you? Well, if you insist. I suppose I better go and see Sourman. He's a very clever man, that's what makes him clever." Hobo sighed in disbelief. Suddenly they both heard a rustling at the window. Before Hobo could stop him, Gandaft pointed his staff at the window and blew up half the wall. Hamwise Bungee stumbled through the rubble and dust.

    "I'm sorry Mr. Hobo. I didn't mean to listen, like. Oh please Mr. Hobo, don't let him blow me to kingdom come!" Gandaft was still pointing his staff at Ham and staring at him like a madman. Hobo thought for a while.
    "I'll tell you what Ham, you can come with me. And we'll take Berry and Poppin with us as well." Ham groaned.
    "Do we have to, Mr. Hobo? I was hoping for some, well, alone time." Hobo often had to deal with Ham's 'loylaty' to him, but he insisted on taking his cousins, like it or lump it. Gandaft set off for Firegard to meet with Sourman, the very clever man. He promised he would send Hobo a letter from Firegard to let him know of the plan. Hobo doubted very much that Gandaft would remember to write to him, so he formed his own plan. Basically, he'd go to the village of Pee and hope that some stranger would lead them to Rankensmell. Pretty sound plan, who can you trust if not a complete stranger?

A Detour to Magic Mushrooms

The following day, Hobo Gaggings, Hamwise Bungee, Berry and Poppin were on their way to the village of Pee. Berry and Poppin revealed to Hobo that they already knew all about the Wing and Thauron. Ham confessed that he had told them, for which he received a hard smack around the back of his head. They had packed all the essentials. Ham had brought some of the 'product' that he grew in his private garden at the back of number 3 Bogshat Row. Berry had packed his collection of 'adult reading material' and Poppin, being the youngest, brought his 'Pokem'in' trading cards. They began their long walk with Poppin yelling things like,
    "Go, Pikaboo! I choose you!"

After a few hours of walking, they soon came to Farmer Faggot's farm. Hobo was keen to avoid old Farmer Faggot at all costs. When he was a young Hoppit, Hobo accidentally destroyed half of his crop when he was testing the theory that corn was flame resistant. Hobo put his finger to his lips and motioned for the others to follow him. They all started to creep quietly past the farmer's gate. That is until Poppin figured out where they were.
    "Hey, this is Famer Faggot's house. He's very mean and kinda smells like dog food!" said Poppin in a very loud voice. Berry kicked him sharply in the shin, this only caused Poppin to yell louder and kick Berry back. As they began a full on scrap, Farmer Faggot came out of his house.
    "Now, what's this about me smelling like dog food?" he asked in a very crotchety voice. His attention turned to Hobo. "Well, if it isn't Hobo Gaggings!"

Hobo fell to his knees and began to cry.
    "Oh please Mr. Faggot, I didn't mean to destroy half your crop. In fact, it wasn't even me! It was Ham, just look at him, he's a natural arsonist!" Farmer Faggot laughed.
    "If anything, I should be thanking you. The insurance I claimed on me fields made me a filthy rich Hoppit, even filthier than before!" Hobo jumped to his feet, ignoring the indignant sounds being made by Ham. He smiled.
    "That's good news. We need to get to Pee, could you take us there?"
    "Of course I can. The limo's in the garage today, would you settle for a cart?" So, they all climbed into Farmer Faggot's dirty but clearly expensive cart and were on their way again. Berry and Poppin sat on opposite sides of the cart, as they were both on a time out.

They soon passed the main signpost of the Ire, showing them that they had crossed the border. The sign did used to have a 'Sh' on it, but they fell off long ago and nobody could be bothered to fix it. After a couple of hours of 'I spy', Farmer Faggot leaned back and spoke to Hobo.
    "There was a strange rider asking after you, Mr. Gaggings. He was dressed in a black poncho and balaclava and he had a hissing, lispy sort of voice. He came up to my gate riding a black cow, and he asked for Gaggings. I told him to sod off, of course. He left and went on his way, but as I said, he was riding a cow. It's not likely he'll catch up with us." Hobo had heard of these creatures from Gandaft, he had read it off a sticky note he found on his hat. They were the dreaded Nathhgul, servants of the Not Too Nice Lord. Hobo was very tired. The way Ham was softly stroking his forehead was soothing as well as disturbing.

When Hobo awoke, they were in Pee. They gave their thanks to Farmer Faggot and he gave them a basket full of mushrooms from Mrs. Faggot. She had accidentally got them confused with Farmer Faggot's 'special' mushrooms, but we won't go too deeply into that. Farmer Faggot went on his way to the local inn, 'The Persuasive Pony'. Before they entered Hobo turned to the others.
    "I shall have to use a false name," he explained. "From now on my name is Mr. Underpants."
    "Can I have a false name too?" asked Poppin excitedly.
    "If Poppin gets a false name, I get one too!" complained Berry.
    "It couldn't hurt for me to have a false name as well," Ham pointed out, "I've always fancied the name Carlos."
    "For God's sake, none of you are important enough for a false name! I, Hobo Gaggings, am the one with the Wing, therefore I'm the one who needs to keep my identity a complete secret!" yelled Hobo angrily.

A great deal of people stopped and stared at Hobo. Some were just ordinary scumbags, but Hobo thought he saw a few bounty hunter types holding his picture. He quickly ushered the others into the Inn. They booked a room with the barman, Mr. Blubberbum and ordered drinks. Two beers for Hobo and Ham, an orange juice for Berry and a coke for Poppin (a bad idea as Poppin easily became hyper). As they drank, Hobo noticed a hooded figure in the corner, smoking what looked like a bubble pipe. Ham noticed this as well.
    "I think he's checking you out, Mr. Hobo. Want me to beat him up?"
    "No Ham, let's just ignore him and concentrate on out drinks." Unfortunately, Hobo easily got drunk and was soon up on the table reciting the dirtiest rhymes his intoxicated mind could think of.

"This is the voice of Auntie Mabel,
the five pound note stays on the table.
This is the voice of Donald Duck,
grab the fiver and run like..."

Hobo did not finish his rhyme, as he fell off the table and accidentally slipped the wing onto his finger (well it had to happen at some point). In a flash, Hobo no longer had that unique Hoppit aroma.
    "Hey, this guy doesn't smell like horse dung anymore!" a man yelled. Hobo took the wing off and regained his horrid stench. He was forced to his feet by the hooded stranger he had seen earlier. Before Ham could protest he dragged Hobo very roughly up the stairs.
    "Cheep floozy!" muttered Ham.

Hobo was pulled into the Hoppit room upstairs. The stranger pulled down his hood to reveal the ugliest face Hobo had ever seen.
    "You not too good at hiding, Mr. Gaggings." the stranger stated.
    "Who are you?" asked Hobo.
    "You slow down, one question at a time. Me Stropper. You call me Stropper." Hobo guessed that this guy hung out with Gandaft, a lot. He decided to try making his questions simpler.
    "What you want me?" he asked slowly. Stropper gave him a letter that had been pinned to his coat.
    "You read, Gandaft said make smelly little man read. Read!" Hobo opened the letter, it was definitely from Gandaft.

Dear nice Hoppit,
        ....change of plans. Sourman is clevererer than I thought. Tricked me easily, not good that isn't. He's cut down all the pretty trees and there's all these Dorcs. Nasty things, Dorcs. I must have done something bad cos he's trapped me on top of Orstank, very high, feel dizzy..... sorry, just been sick. Sourman wants me to tell him where the Wing is, but I tells him no, didn't say please.

Go with Stropper to Rankensmell. He's a good friend, nice man. Bit thick, we get on well together. His real name is Aragorm, may be fake. Got to go, Sourman back..... NOOO! Not the hot poker! Ooooh! Aaaah! Hot pokers don't go there, no they don't!

    Bye, from me.

Just as Hobo finished the letter, Ham, Berry and Poppin burst into the room. Berry and Ham had used Poppin's head as a battering ram.
    "That was fun! Again! Again!" laughed Poppin. Hobo managed to stop Ham's kick towards Stropper's lower region and explained who he was.
    "How do we know he's a friend of Gandaft's?" asked Ham.
    "You haven't spoken to him yet," sighed Hobo with exhaustion. "Besides, I would have thought that a servant of the Not Too Nice Lord would seem fairer and feel fouler."
    "Whereas me just bloody gorgeous!" stated Stropper as he admired himself in the mirror. "Smelly Hoppits shouldn't worry. I is Aragorm, son of Aragormless. This sword is Narcissistic, ancient sword." In a lightning fast movement, his hand flew to the hilt of his sword. He had some trouble pulling it out, when he did, he pulled it with such force that it flew from his hand and nearly impaled Poppin.
    "Damn, missed!" said Hobo and Ham together.

The four Hoppits and Stropper decided to leave in the morning. Across the street, four Nathhgul stabbed four Hoppit sized beds. All very tense, very exciting. Of course it would have been more exciting if Aragorm had remembered to make the decoys. Instead, four innocent and expendable Hoppits on holiday met a rather unfortunate death.
    "Oops." said Aragorm.

A Fork in the Dark

The next morning, the four Hoppits and the very excited Stropper left Pee and made for Rankensmell. Their supplies were on the back of a pony that Ham had 'borrowed' from a nearby stable. After about an hour of walking, Poppin tugged at Hobo's sleeve.
    "I have to go pee - pee!" he whispered.
    "You should have gone before you left Pee!" The mention of the world 'Pee' only made Poppin hop up and down more. Hobo dutifully led Poppin to a nearby bush and waited until he was done.
    "I can't do up my trouser button!" complained Poppin. At this point Hobo wanted to kill him in the most horrible way imaginable, but he was family so he did up his button for him. Ham kept throwing Poppin jealous looks for the rest of the trip.

As they were walking, a horrible thought his Hobo, they were trusting their lives to Stropper, a man who had eaten a rock earlier because he claimed they were high in fibre! He ran up to Stropper's side.
    "Stropper, not to be rude or anything, but do you actually know the way to Rankensmell?"
    "Yeah, been loads of times. We stop at Witheredmop first, maybe meet Gandaft there." Hobo took out Gandaft's letter.
    "But Stropper, Gandaft is stuck on top of Orstank. He says so in his letter!"
    "Yep, meet Gandaft at Witheredmop! Run, hurry!"

They soon arrived at Witheredmop and Gandaft was not there (surprise, surprise). There was, however, a great deal of crumbling ruins. It was on top of a hill and it certainly looked like it could use a mop. Stropper couldn't get over the fact that Gandaft was not there.
    "I told you so, Gandaft is trapped in Firegard." pointed out Hobo. All Stropper gave in reply was an indignant 'humph'. He then sat down, folded his arms and refused to talk.
    "Well, that's obviously where he got the name Stropper." thought Hobo. Ham and Hobo got a fire going while Berry and Poppin played another round of 'I Spy'. Berry, being the elder of the two and therefore the bossier, started,
    "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with R."
    "Rock! My turn, my turn! I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with N."
    "Night?"
    "No."
    "Ninny?"
    "Nope."
    "Dunno then."
    "Nathhgul." said Poppin, pointing to the dark figure ascending the hill.

There was indeed a Nathhgul climbing up the hill, on his belt was what looked like one heck of a sword. The Hoppits gathered around the fire in fear, Ham staying particularly close to Hobo. Aragorm, now out of his strop, rose and drew Narcissistic. He walked towards the Nathhgul, who didn't even bother drawing his sword and just kneed Stropper in the privates. He advanced on the four Hoppits slowly, causing Poppin to require new trousers. The soulless creature turned to Hobo and in his hissing, lispy voice said,
    "I thay, wittle Hoppit, could I pothibly hath the Wing? My Mathter Thauron wanth it tho badly." None of them could believe or understand what it was saying. One thing was clear, the Nathhgul were incredibly camp.
    "Get lost!" yelled Hobo, "And tell Thauron he can thod off!"
    "Therth no need to be wude thweetie," said the Nathhgul, "I'm afwaid I'm going to hath to get phythical." He drew his sword that was indeed, one heck of a sword. "Before I hurt you, doth this poncho make my bum wook big?" When none of the Hoppits anthered, sorry I mean answered, he advanced on the Hobo.

When things looked darkest, Aragorm got over the initial pain and managed to throw a rock at the Nathhgul's hand, knocking his sword to the ground. Berry and Poppin quickly picked it up and played a game of 'Keep Away'.
    "You wittle rathcalth." giggled the Nathhgul. Wasting no time, he drew something from inside his poncho, not a knife, but a fork. Thrusting himself forward, he jabbed Hobo in the shoulder.
    "Ow," said Hobo, "that bloody hurt!" Hobo picked up a burning branch from the fire and threw it straight at the Nathhgul, which ran off yelling,
    "Oh thuper! Thith wath my betht poncho too!" Aragorm and the others ran up to Hobo.
    "Mr. Hobo, are you alright?" asked Ham, who hadn't said anything for a while.
    "I'm fine, it was only a fork. It just smarts a bit, that's all." Aragorm, however, was not convinced.
    "You need elf medicine. Get to Rankensmell soon!" he said in a much higher voice than before.

The next day, Hobo was been carried over Aragorm's shoulder as they walked on to Rankensmell. No matter how much Hobo insisted that he was fine, Aragorm just kept muttering to himself,
    "Elf medicine, get there soon, Nathhgul's are queer!" It wasn't long before they heard the sound of a galloping horse ahead.
    "Oh great! Another Nathhgul come to have his wicked way with my Mr. Hobo!" exclaimed Ham. The three Hoppits managed to dive out of sight, but Aragorm just dropped Hobo and covered his eyes,
    "If I not see them, they not see me!" he stated. A rider appeared, but it was not one of the Nathhgul, but an elf, dressed in the finest pink riding gear. He saw Aragorm and jumped off his horse, unfortunately while it was still moving, causing him to fall straight to the ground in a heap. He got up and tried to regain what was left of his dignity. He tapped Aragorm on the shoulder and greeted him,
    "Ee no penguin Mooneman! Me go'runnin!" Aragorm looked at him for a moment.
    "Nope, didn't understand a word. Sounded dead saucy though!"

The elf greeted the four Hoppits in their own tongue, and introduced himself as Glorified. Hobo bowed,
    "Me go'runnin, Glorified. Have you come from Rankensmell?"
    "Indeed I have, I've been looking for you little buggers for almost a week now. You have no idea what all this riding has done to my hair." Ham had always wanted to see the elves, because of their unique dress sense, but he interrupted them.
    "We don't have no time to waste! Mr. Hobo's sick and he needs help!"
    "You're the one who needs help." thought Hobo to himself. "I'm fine Ham, a Nathhgul jabbed me with a fork, that's all."

Glorified was horrified.
    "Why didn't someone tell me? You should have treated it straight away, Aragorm! Everyone knows how deadly those forks are!" Hobo got the impression that Glorified was a bit of a know it all. Before he knew it, Hobo had been put on Glorified's horse, Asfalloff, and was galloping towards Rankensmell. The speed of the horse was making Hobo feel queasy, so he didn't quite notice all nine Nathhgul following him on their cows. The chase took them to the nearby river. Hobo was able to cross, but the Nathhgul's cows wouldn't move.
    "You thilly things, itth jutht water. Your thaddleth could need wathhing!" Hobo tried to ignore his stomach and yelled out,
    "Bog off! Bog off to Bordor!" The leader of the Nathhgul stepped forward into the river, the rest following. As soon as they were all in the river, the largest computer generated tidal wave swept them all away. All Hobo heard was their cries of 'Oh thuper!' Hobo climbed down from Asfalloff and finally fell subject to his queasy stomach. When he was done, he fainted and everything went black. (Understandable, his eyes were closed.)

The Meeting of Bellron

When Hobo awoke, he found himself lying in a bed, his head resting on several heart shaped cushions. He looked around the room, the curtains were light purple, the shag carpeting was pink, and there was a lovely bouquet of white roses on his bedside table. The was no mistaking it, he was in an elvish room of some sort. He turned to look left and saw Gandaft sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe, though he had obviously forgotten to put tobacco in it. His pointed hat was covered in sticky notes. He obviously had a lot to tell him.
    "Gandaft, where am I? Where were you, Gandaft?" Gandaft seemed to be ignoring him. He then turned to look at Hobo.
    "Sorry, didn't realise you'd woken up. You are in Rankensmell, nice place, bit smelly. I was in Firegard, Sourman the Bitter has turned against us, never liked him anyway."

Hobo sat up, and was immediately hit by the most terrible pong his nose had ever had the misfortune of smelling.
    "What is that horrible smell? It smells like sewage!" Gandaft took off one of the sticky notes and read it.
    "That's cos it is sewage. Nobody here ever cleans out sewers, the elves are too poncy." He looked at Hobo with a smile. "You are lucky to be here, that fork could have killed you it could." Hobo didn't see the point in arguing the fact that the fork had barely even broken his skin.
    "Gandaft, where are the others?" Gandaft took another sticky note from his hat.
    "They're here. Ham has hardly left your side. He's only not here now cos he needed a whiz. Lord Bellron was able to heal you with elf magic." Hobo looked at his shoulder where the Nathhgul had jabbed him, there was a plaster.
    "Some elf magic!" muttered Hobo sarcastically.

The door to Hobo's room opened. Ham and an elf dressed in a turquoise dressing gown entered the room. Ham ran towards Hobo's bed, Hobo prepared for the worst.
    "Mr. Hobo! You're alright!" Ham exclaimed as he grabbed Hobo's hand (that's all, just his hand). The elf spoke to Hobo,
    "Welcome to Rankensmell, Mr. Gaggings. Sorry about the fuss everyone here has been making over that 'wound'. Aragorm over-reacted because he is a twit, and I'm afraid Glorified is just a jumped-up nobody who thinks he knows everything. I am Lord Bellron of Rankensmell." Hobo couldn't help but notice how high the elf's voice was, but remembering why Gandaft was no longer allowed to make fireworks told Hobo all he needed to know.

The four Hoppits spent a lot of time exploring Rankensmell. Apart from the horrid stench, it was a wonderful holiday spot. There was bingo, a bar, a sauna, karaoke (everyone was a bit creeped out when Ham got up to sing 'It's Raining Men', he wasn't even drunk) and a large banquet hall. Hobo was overjoyed when he met Bobo. Bobo showed him the book he was working on, 'There and Back Again to See How Ruddy Far it is!' Hobo also met up with Stropper, who had been spending a lot of time in the swimming pool. Of course, Rankensmell had no swimming pool, so Stropper had been swimming in what was known as the septic tank. Over the following days, Hobo noticed that several new people had begun to arrive at Rankensmell. Gandaft explained (after reading it off another sticky note) that Bellron was going to hold a meeting about what to do with the Wing.

From the Kingdom of Goner, there was Borrowmore, son of the Steward of Goner. Borrowmore was well known as a brave fighter, but he was also well known for never having any cash and always borrowing it from other people. From Mukwood, there was Legless, a constantly drunk elf who never suffered a hangover (one of the perks of being an elf). From the Kingdom Adjacent to the Mountain, there was Giblet and his father Groin, who had travelled with Bobo years ago. Hobo met up with Groin, who greeted him merrily,
    "Why, hello there young Gaggings. I hope your uncle is well." He then said, in a much quieter and angrier voice. "You tell that little bugger he still owes me money!"

That afternoon, the Meeting of Bellron started. After everyone had been introduced, Lord Bellron stood and spoke,
    "We are all here to decide one thing, between us we must decide what to do with the One Wing. Mr. Gaggings, will you please bring out the Wing." Hobo took the wing from his pocket and placed it on the bingo table. The meeting hall was being redecorated so they had to hold the meeting in the bingo hall. Giblet leant forward in his chair,
    "Well, logic would dictate that one of us must take the Wing on a quest into Bordor and cast it into the volcanic fires of Mount Boom." Aragorm giggled,
    "Dwarfish sounds funny!" Bellron, however, agreed entirely.
    "The question is, who will take it? I dare not take the wing. For over a great deal of time I would become like Thauron, and Gandaft is dangerous enough with that staff without becoming a Not Too Nice Lord."

Legless shook his head and asked,
    "Ow do we nooo, dat dat izzz the Wing? Sounds like bullshizz to me! Oh, an' Bollum eshcaped, he did!" Most of the meeting stared in disbelief.
    "What the intoxicated elf is saying," began Giblet, "if what proof do we have that this is indeed the One Wing? Also, Bollum, who was placed into custody by the elves of Mukwood, has escaped."
    "Hee hee, custard!" giggled Aragorm. Gandaft stood.
    "It is the One Wing, cos I chucked it in the fire when the smelly little Hoppit wasn't looking I did. I chucked it in the fire, and I read..." He took another sticky note from his hat.
    "Ath nag durbugg, ath nag bimbaboom, ath nag thrashalot
    aagh bottomburp-ithi krampapull"

The effect this had on the meeting was devastating, all the elves cringed, the dwarves winced and Aragorm stuch his fingers in his ears and sang "La la la, I'm not listening!" When everyone got over the shock, Bellron spoke again,
    "So, we know it is the One Wing, and we now know that the creature Bollum is loose. He will be searching for the Wing. So, who will take the Wing to Bordor?" Everyone fell silent. The silence soon started to annoy Hobo, he jumped up.
    "Very well, if you're all gonna be such bloody cowards, then I'll do it."
    "Alright then," said Bellron, very relieved that he didn't have to do it. "But you shouldn't go alone. Gandaft will accompany you."
    "Hmm?" asked Gandaft, who hadn't been listening to a word anyone had been saying.
    "Aragorm will also go with you. Borrowmore will go as well. Legless will represent the elves, and Giblet, being the only one with any sense will represent the dwarves." Ham looked up from the bingo he had been playing.
    "You won't send him without me, will you?" Hobo crossed his fingers, Bellron shrugged,
    "I don't see why not, you are obviously very fond of him." Hobo cursed under his breath. "Berry and Poppin may go as well, mainly to be used as arrow-fodder."

All those chosen to go stood together, Bellron smiled.
    "Nine companions. You shall be the Fellowship of the Wing!" Giblet stepped forward,
    "Well, technically, we are not a fellowship. A fellowship usually gets on well together, and it looks to me as if Legless cannot stand the mere sight of me. Also, if you insist on Gandaft leading us, there is no hope. So, in a way, we are more of an ineffective group, doomed to failure."
    "Fine," snapped Bellron, "you are the Ineffective Group of the Wing. Happy?"

When Hobo told Bobo of their quest, Bobo gave him his old sword, Stinge.
    "It was made by the elves in the cheapest way possible. The blade, which is as blunt as Aragorm, flickers when Dorcs are near. And it's times like that, when you have to be extra careful where you decide to hide." The next day, the Ineffective Group was ready to leave. Aragorm's sword had been quickly stuck back together with masking tape, Borrowmore had twenty gold coins on him (freshly borrowed from Bellron) and Gandaft had just bought a fresh pad of sticky notes. Without any further words, (mostly because Bellron was quite sick of the whole lot of them), the Ineffective Group was on their way to Bordor.

Wandering Around in the Dark

The route that the Ineffective Group should take was a subject of great debate. Borrowmore insisted that the best plan of action would be to go to Goner, as he needed to borrow some money from his father. Aragorm was still unsure as to where they were actually going and had to be constantly reminded. Giblet suggested going through Lessia, a dwarfish kingdom that led right under the Fisty Mountain. He explained that his second cousin Bailin' had lead a company of dwarves there long ago, but he made his point so articulately that everyone assumed he was speaking dwarfish and ignored him. No one could understand Legless. Finally, Hobo suggested a coin toss.
    "Heads, we go to Goner. Tails, we go through Lessia. Who has a coin?"
    "Don't look at me," said Borrowmore innocently. "I'm flat broke." Giblet gave Hobo a coin, before the flip, Aragorm tapped Giblet on the shoulder.

    "Go on, little dwarf man! Say it!" Giblet sighed in disbelief. Aragorm started getting cranky. "Say it, say it, say it! Oh please!"
    "If it will keep you quiet," groaned Giblet. He took a deep breath. "Toss me," he muttered. The other erupted with laughter, except Hobo who tossed the coin.
    "Tails! We go through Lessia," announced Hobo. When everyone else had stopped laughing, they made their way to the west gate of Lessia. On the way, Hobo caught up with Giblet,
    "Why do you put up with them? You're clearly the smartest in this Ineffective Group and you're the only one with any sense." Giblet shook his head.
    "I know that, but the fact is, you don't contradict Aragorm. He is the heir to the throne of Goner, if I was to upset him it could cause a war between Goner and the Kingdom Adjacent to the Mountain."
    "Heir to the throne of... he's that Aragorm son of Aragormless?"
    "How many did you think there were? Plus, he's engaged to Barmaiden, Bellron's daughter. The last thing we dwarves want is a war with the elves."

Thoroughly depressed by Giblet, Hobo barely noticed when they arrived at the gate to Lessia. Giblet pressed a stethoscope (just one of his many useful tools as well as his axe) to the rock wall.
    "Here it is. The gate to one of the dwarves' most ancient and beautiful cities."
    "How do we open it?" asked Berry bluntly. Gandaft shoved his way to the front.
    "I know! I know!" he cried. "We need the password! I will search for the password!" He started to take sticky notes of his hat.
    "We'll be here fore hours," groaned Hobo, "we may as well get comfortable." Ham's face lit up." Not that comfortable, Ham," warned Hobo. The others gladly relaxed. Legless managed to down a bottle of vodka, he stumbled forward to the edge of a lake and saw his reflection in the water,
    "Hey! I'm an elfff!" he exclaimed very loudly. "I had nooo idea! Thisssh is great! I have always wanted pointy ears!" Legless's loud voice woke something in the water. From the depths of the lake, came the dreaded Watchout', a giant crab beast. It got its name from the fact that when most people see its claws coming towards them, they yell 'Watch out!' The creature thrust one of its claws at Aragorm, who said,
    "Cool! A fishy!" Gandaft had still not been able to get the door open. Finally, Giblet shoved the wizard out of the way and used the door handle.

Everyone poured in.
    "Where is Aragorm?" asked Borrowmore. The reply came in the form of Aragorm flying through the air and crashing straight into Borrowmore. The Watchout' had tried to eat him and then spat him out. Aragorm laughed,
    "That fun! Wanna do it again!" Aragorm did not get a chance to do it again, as the Watchout' had closed the door behind them in disgust over Aragorm's taste. Everything went dark, but Gandaft was able to light his staff by stuffing some dwarf hair he found on the floor into his staff and lighting it with a fluid lighter. It was only then that Group (they will be referred to in this way from now on, it's very annoying typing out 'the Ineffective Group' all the time) noticed the shaved dwarf corpses littering the floor.
    "Gross!" wailed Aragorm.
    "Cool!" exclaimed Poppin. Giblet, however, was enraged.
    "Those Dorc scum! This is obviously the aftermath of a Dorc invasion. To shave a dwarf's beard is a terrible offence! They will feel the sharp sting of my axe on their nerdy little faces!"

The Group moved on, walking quietly through the vast mines of Lessia. The only sounds that could be heard where the occasional loud guffaw from Aragorm as he remembered a rude rhyme and the beeping of Poppin's Gameboy. There were also several loud coughs from Hobo that echoed through the mines. It looked like Hobo was inheriting the Gaggings' family trait. Gandaft, who was leading them suddenly stopped in front of three doorways,
    "I have no memory of this place!"     "That's what you've been saying to yourself ever since we arrived here!" muttered Giblet. "But it hasn't stopped you from leading us in circles!" Hobo then noticed a small pair of glowing eyes some distance behind them, he ran up to Gandaft.
    "Gandaft, there's something following us! I think it may be Bollum."
    "BOLLUM! WHERE?" screamed Gandaft. He started firing blasts from his staff in random directions, causing several explosions. Yet still, there was no sign of any Dorcs.

When Giblet had been able to calm Gandaft down and show him which doorway was the right one, they carried on. Giblet took Hobo aside for a moment.
    "You're absolutely right, Mr. Gaggings. That was Bollum behin us, he seeks the Wing, but he was not always this way. His name was once Beagol, before the Wing came to him. I seriously doubt he was hit by Gandaft's blasts." The Group soon came to a small chamer. It was a dark, dank room with a large hole in the middle, which they assumed was a well.

    "So, masster short-arse!" Shouted Legless, even though Giblet was right next to him. "Iz dis anudder example of Dwarfisssh architexture?"
    "In a sense, it's a public convenience." Giblet saw Aragorm's puzzled look. "A loo," he explained. Giblet then noticed a book lying on the floor, it was a record of Bailin's time in Lessia. The last page read something like this,
    They have taken the bridge and the canteen. Bailin' was shot dead today as he tried to bail on us. We cannot escape, here they come. Oh God nooooo! Aaah! Parlay! Parlay! Mercy!

Everyone sat down to rest, Aragorm taking out his bubble pipe. Berry thoroughly bored, dared Poppin to drop a stone down the 'well'. After Legless double dared him, Poppin did. The stone made a small thud noise when it reached the bottom.
    "You fool!" hissed Hobo. "You'll have all the Dorcs in Lessia on us!" Poppin's lower lip started to wobble.
    "Why are you always yelling at me? You never yell at Berry!"
    "That's because Berry is a good boy, now you behave yourself!" Hobo went and sat down beside Ham.
    "Am I a good boy, Mr. Hobo?"
    "Shut up Ham." Just then, a small tapping sound could be heard from the bottom of the 'well'. Giblet jumped up.
    "It's Morse code! I'll translate: Some little bugger just dropped a stone on my head, stop. Attack at once, stop. Fed up of communicating through Morse code, stop. Could we possibly look into getting connected to the Internet, stop. Dorcs will be upon us at any moment!"

And, sure enough, as soon as they left the chamber hundreds of Dorcs came charging towards them. Their skin was pale and their glasses repaired with sellotape. They were all armed to the teeth with sharpened number two pencils and elastic bands (ever had one of those shot straight at your face? It bloody hurts!) Aragorm drew Narcissistic and charged straight at them, this time receiving a well aimed elastic band to his privated. Gandaft started firing magical blasts, but of course, not a single one of them hit the Dorcs. Hobo made their only option clear when he yelled,
    "Leg it!"

Which they certainly did, the Group ran all the way to the Bridge of Whata Boom. Just as they were about to cross, they heard an unearthly sound behind them, it sounded like lipstick being applied. They turned and found themselve face to face with the Foulsnog, a hussy demon of the ancient world. Legless aimed his bow, missed and shot Gandalf#s hat. The Foulsnog spotted the drunkard elf and hollered,
    "There you are! Giz us a kiss!" As they ran in fear, Legless explained,
    "We uused to date, still got the hotsh for me." In single file, they crossed the bridge, all except Gandaft, who was searching his hat for the right sticky not to get rid of the Foulsnog. He stood alone against the Foulsnog, who burst into angry flames when she saw that Gandaft was in her way.
    "You're playing with fire! That's dangerous, that is!" Gandaft said, quite shocked. Gandaft was unable to find the right sticky note, so he improvised. "I'm a powerful wizard, I am. It not good idea to peeve me off." The Foulsnog ignored him and stepped forward. Gandaft struck the bridge with his staff, causing the Foulsnog's end of it to collapse. As she fell, Gandaft turned to leave, unfortunately, the experience had made him a bit dizzy. He turned a complete circle and walked off the edge of the broken bridge. As he fell, he cried,
"Woopsy-doodle! This isn't good, it isn't!"
Spurred on by Giblet, the rest of the Group found their way out of Lessia. The intense grief hit them all, most of all Borrowmore. Gandaft had promised him a loan of five quid. The four Hoppits were beside themselves. Giblet spoke into the silence.
    "We all mourn Gandaft's passing. He may have been a moron, but he was a wizard. Without his powers our quest has little chance of success. Our best option is to return to Rankensmell." Giblet's words stung Hobo, for there was some truth in them. They would not have survived the Foulsnog's attack without Gandaft's magic. Legless rose,
    "There ish anudder opshion. Wee cud go to Mothmorien. I haff frends there, good pals." Borrowmore was reluctant.
    "In Goner, they say that an elf witch lives in that forest."
    "Well, screw Goner!" said Legless a bit louder than he had intended. "I'll admit, shesh a bissh sometimes, but shesh baashically okay."

Giblet turned to Hobo.
    "The Wing Bearer should have his say."
    "Oh great!" thought Hobo. "Put all the bloody pressure on me, why don't you?" Hobo cleared his throat, coughed serveral times and then answered. "We will go to Mothmorien, I trust the elves and I think Gandaft would have taken us there. I expect he had a sticky note to remind him." It was decided, the Group would go through the moth infested land of Mothmorien (well where else did you think it would have gotten its name?) Ham smiled at Hobo.
    "Well decided, Mr. Hobo. You're so clever and brave and cute." Hobo got the feeling that Ham hadn't meant to say that last part out loud.

The Sink of Saladriel

The Group walked away from the Fisty Mountain and soon came to the forest of Mothmorien. They admired the beauty of the trees, or at least they would have done if thousands of irritating moths weren't flying around their faces. They forced their way through quietly, even though Aragorm was terribly afraid of moths and kept whimpering. Before long, they came to a clearing. In the blink of an eye, several elf archers jumped out of the bushes. Their leader jumped down from a tree.
    "Holdit!" He cried. Poppin, wasting no time ran forward and kicked the elf in the shin. Aragorm was trying to attack but couldn't get Narcissistic from its scabbard. Hobo leaned towards Legless.
    "My elvish is very limited, talk to them!" Legless laughed.
    "Do I look like someone who speaks Elvisssh?" Nobody needed to speak elvish, the lead elf stood up with some pain, waving a white handkerchief.

    "Please call off your dog! My name is Holdit of Mothmorien, what I said earlier was not a threat, I was merely stating my name."
    "Dog? Dog?" cried Poppin, insulted. Giblet dragged Poppin away before he had the chance to do something that everyone would have regretted. Holdit continued,
    "My company and I were sent to look for you. Lord Celery and Lady Saladriel are expecting you." Before they followed Holdit and the others, Giblet addressed the Group sternly,
    "There is one thing you must remember while you are here. The elves of this forest are strict vegetarians. No meat is served here, so don't ask for any!"

Holdit took the Group to Celery and Saladriel. Giblet, who was fluent in many languages, greeted them in the Elven tongue. Legless only knew enough elvish to order a gin and tonic, so he did. When all had been welcomed, Lord Celery spoke,
    "There are only seven here, yet nine set out from Rankensmell." Everyone looked around to see who was missing. Berry soon appeared,
    "Sorry, had to use the loo." Giblet stepped forward.
    "Lord Celery, I regret to inform you that Gandaft the Dreary fell defending the Group from the terrible Foulsnog. He died in Lessia." Saladriel sat up indignantly and spoke to Berry,
    "My bra size is none of your business, perverted little Hoppit!" This took Hobo, and the others by surprise. It then dawned on Hobo, she could read minds. A bit of a problem, as he was well known in the Ire for having a dirty mind.

Celery invited them to stay and rest. They gladly obliged. Legless wasted no time in finding the nearest bar and making full use of the only elvish he knew. Aragorm was being entertained by Poppin's Gameboy and Borrowmore was trying to scrounge as much money off the elves as possible. Giblet spent a lot of time with Lord Celery, discussing world affairs and the price of decent vegetables. Hobo, however, was still too upset of the loss of Gandaft to enjoy himself. He even turned down a game of Twister, which disappointed Ham. Later that night, Hobo found that he couldn't sleep. He caught a glimpse of Saladriel walking past. His Hoppit curiousity got the better of him, so he followed her. He gave Ham a sharp kick in the side and motioned for him to follow. They tip-toed past the sleeping Aragorm (peacefully sucking his thumb) and Borrowmore, who they heard muttering 'Lend us a couple o' quid' in his sleep.

They followed her until she stopped at what looked like a large bowl. She turned on the tap and filled it with water. She turned towards their incredibly awful hiding place.
    "Will you look?" She asked. The two Hoppits stepped forward. "This is the Mirror of Saladriel." Hobo looked a the bowl in front of him.
    "It's a sink," he stated.
    "The Mirror of Saladriel shows many things," she said mysteriously.
    "But it's a bloody sink!" Exclaimed Hobo. "Are you implying that I need a wash?" Saladriel dropped her mysterious smile.
    "Look, call it what you want. The point is, it shows a whole bunch of things. Are you going to look or aren't you?" Hobo reluctantly peered over the edge. The water began to ripple, the image of Aragorm, Legless and Giblet fighting off hordes of Dorcs appeared. This was followed by Berry and Poppin squabbling.
    "Seems normal enough." Though Hobo. The next image was hazy at first, but Hobo could make out the shape of a giant pair of fiery lips. They were about to speak when the image completely faded out.

    "Sorry," said Saladriel. "It's on the blink. Someone was supposed to come and fix it." Ham groaned. He didn't even get a turn. Hobo looked up at Saladriel.
    "I don't know if I can do this. Destroying the Wing is such a large responsibility, and I am so small."Saladriel stroked Hobo's forehead softly,
    "It's not size that counts, it's how you do it. A sound piece of elvish wisdom, remember it." Hobo made his way back to bed, Ham looked murderous.

The next morning, the Group were ready to leave. They were all given stylish elvish cloaks. They didn't do anything, they just looked good. Before they left, Saladriel presented them all with gifts. Legless received a new bow (he had broken his during a drunken argument at the bar). Borrowmore received a silk purse (to keep all the money that he blagged from people in). Berry and Poppin received elvish mittens that Celery had knitted himself. She gave Aragorm a roll of elvish masking tape (Narcissistic was beginning to fall apart). Giblet was given a psychology book, 'How to Lead Total Twits on a Quest to Certain Death'. She gave Ham a small box, filled with what she claimed was magic soil. Hobo suspected that it was just mud.
    "And for you, Hobo Gaggings, I give you a magic light to guide you through the dark places of the world." She gave him an electric torch with spare batteries.

The Group were also given three boats. Giblet and Legless in one boat (with Giblet rowing, as Legless was far too drunk). Borrowmore rowed with Berry and Poppin, and Aragorm, Hobo and Ham went in the third boat. Ham had insisted quite fiercely that Aragorm let him go in the same boat as Hobo. They left Mothmorien with heavy hearts, the only food that had been packed for them was elvish lettuce. One small bite, and you could taste it for a whole day. As they rowed away, they could hear Saladriel yelling,
    "I heard what you just thought Aragorm you cheeky sod!" Here we leave our heroes (and Aragorm) making their way along the river.

We leave the Group because it's time for something a bit darker, just to create a bit of contrast. While the Group rested in Mothmorien, Sourman was hard at work in Firegard breeding Dorcs with Gobbing men. This was indeed hard work, as Dorcs are terrible on dates. He was finally able to create the Urucrats, huge, imposing nerds with an obsession with forms and red tape. Sourman summoned a hunting party of Urucrats to Orstank, with his tremendous voice he cried,
    "My fighting and filing Urucrats! March to the river and hunt down the Ineffective Group! One of the Hoppits has something of great value! Bring them to me, kill the rest, especially Gandaft!" The lead Urucrate to the others,
    "Alright everyone! Standard kill and kidnap procedure. Fill in forms 8c and 5d before we leave!" So, once the appropriate paperwork had been filled out and filed, the Urucrats were on the trail of our heroes (and Aragorm).

The Inevitable Failing of the Ineffective Group