The True Tale of Leland’s Lunch

Song by Glompla Knotwise-Took, Hobbit Minstrel

The TRUE Tale of Leland’s Lunch

In the spring, in Breeland’s plenty,
I received a plea for aid:
A bard I quickly recognized,
A welcome sight to my eyes,
Bid me meet up where he stayed.
“Make for the Pony,” said he.

“There you will find a bard sublime;
The great Piper Prescott, y’see.
He’ll teach you some tricks, a song,
Or some licks, and before long,
Glompla, you’ll be better than me.
Missing this would be a crime.”

Off I rode to the Inn and bard,
Excited for what could be.
I arrived sometime around four
Unknowing what was in store.
For Prescott had a job for me
That might get me a reward.

“Brigands have stolen something dear
From my friend, Leland Underhill.
The Hobbit will not let it go!
It will be trouble, you know.
The adventure should be a thrill.
A tale all will want to hear.”

I rode off apace to the west
To find Leland still livid.
“Come with me!” he cried heatedly.
“For though we both may be wee,
Our vengeance shall not be outdid!
This great heist will be addressed!”

I should have asked then what had been took,
But a Hobbit was distressed.
An heirloom is precious indeed;
Nothing less for their great greed
Would brigands have tried to possess.
A crook is ever a crook.

Off to the lair of the host
Marched the brave Hobbit and me,
Despite their members’ many harms,
We forced them to lay down arms.
“Enough!” Leland said finally.
“You villain! Return my roast!”

Hold on, my brain said as it heard
What we had come to reclaim.
Did I just hear him correctly?
The thief answered directly,
“That’s the only reason you came?
You are utterly absurd!”

“Yet here I stand!” Leland declared,
“And I won’t leave without it!
It’s juicy and cooked perfectly.
That is my lunch, you see.”
“It’s my dinner, too, I admit,”
Said the chief thief, “Can we share?”

And so they did, and all was well,
(Except for the thieves we beat).
Back at the inn, Prescott laughed long
And wrote this down as a song
Which he then compelled me to bleat
In my own personal hell.

From caves, wherein the robbers dwelt,
To minstrels well-reputed,
Of all this, I regret the most
The time lost chasing this roast.
If you believe this was stupid,
Just imagine how I felt!