"Olórin," they say, "please favor us with your pyrotechnic skills. A party isn't a party without your fireworks, Olórin," they say. "As if your keen advisory capabilities aren't contribution enough, you dazzle us with your lightshows," they say. SO HOW IS IT THAT THEY ALLOW SOME BANANA-BRAINED GOOD-FOR-NOTHINGS TO DESTROY MY ENTIRE STOCK?!
*sighs* Oh, don't worry about it, son. I'll just have to start over, won't I? Well, never mind, I'm used to it. The Valar can either build me a proper barbed-wire fence or say goodbye to their discounts, I can tell you that much.
Hobbits, now...hobbits possess a decent level of appreciation for my talents.
It is. Which is why I'm leaning toward it being the work of petty vandals rather than Team!Evil or the like. Kids these days. KIDS! and so on and so forth.
Yes, yes, I know. Besides, it'd be rather an embarrassment to all and sundry if you were to drunkenly torch your own father's fireworks warehouse...WOULDN'TIT?
Dude. That's fucked.
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*takes a cautious step backwards*
can... I help in any way?
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Hobbits, now...hobbits possess a decent level of appreciation for my talents.
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How does one deal with this sort of opposition, really? There's no logic in it. At least Third Age Sauron stuck to the Dark Lord Handbook.
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No idea... any idea who started the fire or why?
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Yeah... I get the picture. Still. It's all rather random, isn't it?
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*fixes you with a paranoid stare*
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I'm SHOCKED you could even THINK that of me.
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*shakes his head*
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