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Fatty and Gerdy Chubb
The ale was disappearing quickly into the greedy mouths of those who crowded about the display and Fatty was hard pressed to keep the mugs moving quickly enough to satisfy them. He cast an anxious eye about for his brother and cousin. Fordogrim was still locked in conversation with the Innkeeper – if conversation it could be called for the mistress of the Inn had been standing there looking at the diminutive hobbit for a long time without speaking, presumably meditating upon her reply – and Gerdy was nowhere to be seen. “Hoy, there, Mister Chubb! Another mug of the Gold if you please!” Fatty poured out another frothing cup and passed it to the hand which belonged to the voice. From across the yard he saw the boy Tim who had gone to stable the ponies with Gerdy. He was walking across the yard as though in search of someone but Fatty, who was beginning to feel as though he were being buried by empty mugs, cajoling fists, and jostling elbows, was well past the point at which politeness was his primary concern.
“Master Tim!” he cried, and then again, even louder when the stableboy failed to hear his voice above the commotion about the wagon, “MASTER TIM!” This time he saw the lad perk up his ears and look his way. “WHERE HAS MY BROTHER GERDY GOT TO?” Tim looked about and shrugged, then pointed to the stables as though to indicate that the hobbit might still there. Fatty turned back to his customers, now openly grumbling.
As if on cue his brother emerged from the stable and began walking slowly toward where Fatty was now almost being utterly overwhelmed. Some of the customers, impatient with waiting for their free sample, were stepping over the bar and helping themselves. “Gerdy!” Fatty cried, “Get over here, lad and lend a hand!”
Gerdy looked at his right hand before replying, “I can lend you two brother, if I can have them back when you’re done needing them. I’ve only just come from tending to the ponies and have yet to inquire about rooms for ourselves. That nice Master Tim spoke highly of this here Inn and said that we were sure to be made welcome. He also asked how long we’d be staying so I gave that some thought, but I’m not sure I got it precisely the right way around. The way I see it…” By this point he had come close enough to Fatty for his brother to thrust a couple of empty mugs into his hands and roughly turn him about to face the customers, so the conversation was soon cut short. The two brothers fought on, but the crowd was clearly getting the better of them. Neither of them knew how much longer they could hold on without reinforcements. They cast many a glance at their cousin, wondering when he would be done gabbing with the tall woman and get back to something useful.
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