What
Dharlon celebrates his coming of age.

Who
Dharlon Took (#27754)....himself, Bogurus Took
Filby Pott (#29680)......himself
Andrea Took (#15025).....herself
Olfo Diggle (#16690).....Clodo Baggins

Hobbits are begging to arrive for the event of the day: Dharlon's Coming of Age. Banners decorate the Great Smails, and a large pile of mathoms lie next to the fireplace. The hobbit for whom this party was intended, stands at the archway, greeting various guests as the enter.

Filby Pott, stepping out from the drawing room, looks about the great hall with an approving eye. "Ah... nothing like a good, old-fashioned birthday party... brings back fond memories..." With these words he walks into the hall, nodding to decorators and guests.

The host does not notice Mr. Pott, as he came in from an unusal exit, and there are far too many people bustling for him to keep track of them all. He merely continues greeting those entering through the archway is a jolly fashion "Welcome ot my Coming of Age!"

A thin, bony hand comes out of nowhere and falls on Dharlon's shoulder... and it is none other than Filby's. "Ah, Master Took, so good to see you. A very happy birthday I wish you, and many happy returns." He removes his hand and looks about that hall again, nodding in approval.

And then, quite suddenly, a ring eminates through the Smials -- not only the Great Hall, but the rest of the large hole. This first ring is very curt and polite and proper and all the other things a ring at the door to let the inhabitants know they have a visitor should be.... And then it is followed by three more, furious, quick, and altogether frustrated rings. This quadruplet of ringing ends with three very strong raps upon the door... as though they came from a cane, or perhaps a metal pan... and then all is quiet...

Dharlon mutters at the large racket coming from inside, and asks a small boy "Bogurus? Could you you please go see who that is?" The boy obedliently runs off to the door to answer it. In the mean time, Dharlon continues greeting those coming through the archways.

Andrea enters majesticly into the hall smiling with a radiant air. Her eyes search the hall methodicly looking away from that which appears not to be included in her search. The smile on her face spreads as, jumping up and down to see further, she sees her target. Languinely she heads towards the hobbit. She arrives behind him, and taps him on the shoulder, and then jumps beside him, "Heya Dharlon! Happy Birthday, it's your special day, ins't it?" she says very joyously, "I'm so happy! You're of age now." she grins deeply, and searches her pockets a moment. Her eyes dart momentarily at the manthom pile, and then she returns her gaze to Dharlon's face, "I brought something special." she whispers to him, "I'll show you later, maybe. I can't stay too long; I've an errand in Buckland of some emergency; Family of sorts, if you know..." she also turns and glances to the growing racket in the entrance hall.

"Ah... behind you, Dharlon, it's me, Filby..." Pott taps Dharlon on the back a second time, paying no attention to the bell or Andrea. "Yes... right here..." Clearing his throat Filby repeats, "Now... a very happy birthday I wish you, Master Took, and many happy returns."

Dharlon sees Andrea. Though the archways are still flowwing in with slightly late partygoers, Dharlon abandons his post, after giving Filby a quick "Why yes Mr. Pott, same to you, and be sure to pick up your mathom!" Gets over to Andrea and says "Er there isn't anything in the pile..." He pulls a small black box out of his pocket, opens it up, and insid are matching turquiose earings "Figured they might get damage in the pile..." He smiles and holds them out for Andrea.

"Ah-- at last! Thank you, young lad," bellows the portly holbytlan as he waddles into the main hallway, tossing his cloak and hat at the small lad as he presses a smallish penny into his hand. "There now... put those away for me, will you?" requests the guest, then continuing toward the door, and right into the Great Hall.

Thus, Clodo Baggins makes his enterance unto the din of the on-going birthday party with a smile on his face and a short cane in his hand. Quickly, the young hobbit of forty waddles over to Dharlon, despite the fact that the Took seems somewhat burried in guests.

"Hullo there, mister Took!" belows the gentlehobbit, straightening his weskit as he says so. "And happy birthday to you! Happy, happy! Yes... I remember my coming of age... not too long ago, either. We had a huge party up in Hobbiton... grand, grand thing. At any rate, I wish you the same luck I've had since then... and... well, anyhow, I brought you a mathom... a fine mathom, indeed!" exclaims the Baggins, digging into the pockets of his trousers. His smile grows to a mischevious grin as a small piece of paper is dug from the depths of his pockets...

Glittering eyes look down to the box and back up to Dharlon's face, she accepts it with eager yet surprised hands and speaks in awe, "Oh, Dharlon. . . They're so beautiful." she gently takes each and attaches htem to her ears, smiling with sheer femine delite, "Thank you so much Dharlon. They're so fine! I should say I'd look like a fine ladyhobbit in these." she says with a stiffled giggle. As Clodo approaches Andrea whispers to him, "A moment; I'll show you yours, after this. I know I shouldn't have." she backs up while Clodo offers his happy-birthdays and congradulations to Dharlon, and fools with the earing to arrive at the perfect placement.

Andrea then satisfied, watches intently while she waits.

Dharlon grins to Andrea and says "Well now it's my party... But I suppose I won't REFUSE...." He suddenly frowns as Clodo pushes his way in, but wipes the frown quickly and makes a visably forced smile and says "Why hello sir! Glad to have you! Mr.-" He stops, not sure how to address the man, and when he starts to hand a mothom of some type he says "Why now kind sir, It's my party, I should be giving out the mathoms!"

You pick up your gift, gratified by the generosity of Dharlon Took.
The note attached to the mathom reads:
"For Filby Pott: A stack of seedcakes."

"Of course, the mathom..." Filby makes his way over to the pile of mathoms, intent to pick up whichever one is his. "Let me see... Folengild, Felbinard, Furby, Filo... ah, here it is, Filby Pott." He picks up the package. Before he takes the time to look at it, though, he espies the entering Baggins...

"So there is the villain!" Filby puts down the gift (a stack of seedcakes) and turns about to see Clodo. "MISTER Baggins..." he gives the other a cold glance, "I have been looking for you..." He frowns, looking almost fierce, at Clodo.

Clodo only continues to smile. "No, no... I'm sure your kind mathom is somewhere in the pile, good sir... but I insist upon giving you -this- tonight... " says the Baggins, pulling from his pocket a small piece of papyrus. Carefully, he hands the white sheet of paper (folded in half) to Dharlon. "Go ahead... open it," encourages Clodo, just as Filby begins to yell a tirade from the other side of the room.

Turning, the young hobbit's lips fall flat of their smile as he sees the 'yeller'... Filby. "Ah... mister Pott. Hullo, good sir! How would you be faring?" polls the Baggins, snaking his way through a number of guests to arrive at the Pott's side. The lad seems forced to maintain somewhat of a smile -- the very least of one -- and says nothing concerning the harsh words, nor angry tone that Filby Pott previously emits... he awaits a response.

Andrea smiles and sighs with relief. A greatful expression appears on her face at the interruption of Filby. She claspse Dharlon's hand gently, "Here, quick; Over here before he's finished. It shadn't take a moment, and I need be gone for a bit shortly." she indicates the far corner of the hall, with a gentle cock of her head, "It's just a little thing I though you might like," she says slowly in near whispered tones, "I hope you will." she glances towards Clodo and Filby with a curious air and speaks with a decisive voice, "He seems busy indeed, Let's go!" and she turns towards the corner, and begins walking.

Dharlon looks totally caught off guard by Filby's statement "Mister Baggins? Do you know each other? Well I can see your on bad terms but please don't-" He stops, and his jaw drops, as he begins to fully comphrend Filby's statement "You don't mean CLODO Baggins do you? Why I can't beilive- Everyone is invited surely was taken to mean EVERYONE I see... Why after all the bitter lies and rumors you have spread about me and the DPP I-" Dharlon stops in midsentence, and sees a chance to get away. "Er but perhaps this is better discussed somewhere else. I really have matters toattend to. And there is a mathom for you in the pile, though I thought you wouldn't show!" He suddenly begins to walk away, hoping Filby can distract his oppoent

A couple of hobbits turn their head towards the noise that is being created by the Old Pott and Young Took.

Without a warning Filby grabs Clodo by the collar (some distraction!) and looks him straight in the eye. "See here, boy," he says in a low voice so as not to seem disruptive (despite the fact that he is holding Clodo by the collar), "I believe you owe someone an apology... not only did you speak ill of me on a poster, but you and your... your lackeys put an article against Master Took and Mister Clayhanger... I think you need to rethink your morals, boy..."

The hobbits that have turned their heads already are now nudging those that haven't, and several people throughout the hall have become focused on Pott and Baggins. Few pay attention to the two retreating Tooks, and Dharlon himself seems a bit oblivious to the altercation

Andrea grins at Dharlon sheepishly, a moment, then frowns and stops halfway through withdrawing the gift, and stares towards Clodo Baggins, as if with lightning were to shoot, "He's the one giving you trouble? Did he put that offensive and disrespectable article in the paper?" she says in a heated somewhat angry voice, "Why I never. . . And he shows up at your party? He should fear to be so bold!" she grumbles to herself and mutters, "Well, no mind, I will give you this now, then I will discover later if I can delay the trip. If I can, fate willing, I'll return before the party's." she smiles slowly, withdrawing a purple and blue box with pink pokedots, "I'm sorry, this was the only box they had left." she hands it to Dharlon, "You'll probably need it, now that you're of age. People expect you to be punctual, you know," she hints. Then with a gentle tap on the box's lid, she urges,"Open it. I'll explain it after."

Taken, quite off his guard (if ever he had any), Clodo's eyes grow wide as Filby grabs up the collar of his weskit and pulls him close in a menacing manner. "Mister -Pott-!" he exclaims. "Why-- what -are- you doing?! I simply come here to wish Dharlon a happy birthday and-- -me-?! Re-think -my- morals?!"

Clodo's eyes then narrow at this latest turn of conversation, and he stairs into Filby's eyes, struggling to break free from his grasp.

"-I- need to rethink -my- morals! Yes! Ha-ha! Not Filby... the one who was -soooo- sinister and careful to ensure his winning of the Cherryblossom Parade! Not Filby... the one who wants to obliterate the only joy some of our Shire hobbits have! Not Filby... who ran the largest pot monopoly in the entire Shire! No... no, we should all be more like Filby! And let longbeards and bigfolk invade the Shire! Bah! Bah, I say! Rethink your own morals, you... fool!!!"

The Baggins lad then proceeds to flourish away, grabbing up his mathom from the pile (which, incidently, is the positive opposite of the one he gave to Dharlon) and stomps toward the door...

Dharlon takes the box, looking at the strange colors painted on the exterior. and opens it slowly, ignoring the noise that, had he been paying attention to near annything else would have caught his attention immedatly. He slowly opens it, and peeks inside.

"Why I... you... I ought to... you're going on my list, boy!" FIlby irately pulls a pad and pencil from a pocket, scribbling down a note in a heavy hand. "Be prepared to hear from my lawyer!" He glowers in a frumious manner at the retreating Bbaggins. "Sinister! Monopoly! Invasion! You will get your comeuppance, mark my words, Baggins! Nasty little buggers like you always do!"

A golden watch is revealed inside the box, with some sort of inscription upon it to be further inspected by those nearby. It rests half open, a close peek reveals that the watch is very well made and ticks with perfect time. This watch also has an intresting addition; In the half which covers the watch is inserted a handsome oil painting of Andrea, done with the finest care by some skilled artist. "It's real, gold, too," comments Andrea, "Or so the salesman assured me. It's top quality, so you'll never be late because you don't have a good watch!" She smiles faintly, "There's an inscription on the front. You can read, so I'll let you read it it. But, I regret, seeing the time on this present has reminded me that I am late in going. I shall try to delay the trip, but I must go meet up with my comrads now... Do you like it? I will see you later for sure..."

Dharlon eyes widen in surprise "It's wonderful!" He then looks up at Andrea "Though that's one less excuse I have for being late!" He laughs slightly "Just kidding of course! Of you have to go... that's to bad I-" Suddenly he notices the situation between Clodo and Filby "Oh No! I-" He turns to Andrea quickly "Well, I really have to say goodbye... THey are about to wreck the party. I promise I'll see you soon though!" and with that he runs off in the directions of Filby saying "Please stop!" he waves his hand across the room "Everyone is staring! He is leaving, right?"

"The same goes for you, Pott!" Clodo yells, swerving around one last time to give Filby a cold look -- contrasting with his bright red face. "You'll get your's... fools always do!" he mocks, then opening -- and slaming -- the door. Another door slamming is heard, followed by no more noise a'tall from any neighboring rooms.

Irately, Filby grabs his package of seedcakes and storms into the drawing room. Not watching where he is going, he walks into a hatrack, but mumbling "Pardon me, madam," he continues his march into the other room, disappearing from sight.

Andrea sighs a moment as Dharlon retreats, but glancing at her own watch, a simple thing, she rushes out the door.