The Funniship of the Ring. Book 1. A parody. "Well, Hoho," said Handoff the Gloomy to his friend the Blobbit, "It looks as if the Ring your Uncle Dumbo found underneath the Messy Mountains may be more than it seems."

Hoho looked up from his whittling. "Huh?" he said.

Handoff looked up at the clock on the wall. "Woah! I'm almost late for the Flighty Counsil! I gotta go, Hoho, thanks for the turkey dinner," and with that, the blizzard breezed out the door, upsetting Hoho's dinner as he went.

"Doggone blizzard. I don't know why uncle Dumbo ever let him in here in the first place," muttered Hoho. "I wonder what he meant about my ring? Oh well."

Tomfool Sandwich entered through the hectagonal door. "Your lawn is all mowed. And I managed to miss most of your flowers."

Hoho suddenly had an inspiration. Why didn't he go find Uncle Dumbo and ask him why he let the parasitic blizzard into the Blobbit's hole so many years ago? And why not take a few friends along? Oh, sure, it might be dangerous, but they needn't worry-at least until they had a good reason to worry.

"That's good, Tom. Uh, I was wondering, how would you like to take an extended picnic? I'd like to get out of the Mire for a few days."

"Ooh!" Tom squealed, "We can take Piping Take and Mary Christmas! It'll be fun! I'll start packing." And the overenthused Blobbit bustled off to pack and invite Hoho's other friends.

Hoho breathed a sigh of relief. At least if some vicious beast decided to attack the little "picnic", he would have a 75% chance of getting away.

Tom flew in an hour or two later, dragging the luggage and two very unwilling, whining Blobbits, who knew something of Hoho's ways.

"I don't want to die!" wailed Piping Take.

"My hay fever is at it's peak!" shrieked Mary Christmas, who was hard put to find an excuse better than Piping's.

"I wanted to bring Slim Bolder too, but he has a nasty case of pneumonia," said Tom, setting down the three heavy looking picnic baskets.

Hoho, hungry already, eyed the baskets with greed. He smelled the destinctive aroma of little red cherry tomatoes, cooked with a light basting of basil lemon sauce.

Ham Sandwich entered the room.

"Tomfool, now y'all be careful out there. Some outlandish Big Person dressed all in paisley was asking about ya. I said you had all gone off, because I thought you had," he said looking hard at Tom.

"Thank you, Ham," said Hoho, wanting him to leave so they could be on their way. But the two younger Blobbits had seen their chance to delay their departure possibly indefinitely and were talking up a storm and begging Ham to take them home. It was well known that Hamslow Sandwich could not resist a long, drawn out conversation.

It was a good half an hour later before Hoho and Tom could drag the two whiny blobbits away.

The four Blobbits made their slow, painful way out of the Mire.

Hoho was mulling on Uncle Dumbo's last cryptic message. "I'll be in Flivenbell, if you want me, Hoho." Hoho wondered if his crazy old uncle really meant what he said, or if he was just going off on one of his crazy thought processes.

Then he noticed he was up to his armpits in slime. He wondered how he was going to get out of this one. He surmized that this must be the reason that the whimpers of the younger (and shorter) blobbits had suddenly ceased.

He looked over his shoulder and to his horror he saw a man in paisley. Not that paisley itself is horrifying, but the colors left the impression of total insanity.

Hoho barely supressed a loud and shrill scream. But Tom was not so lucky. A yowl of frightening proportions escaped from his direction.

The Paisley Rider looked up. It was just about ready to leap when it heard the sound of music. Hoho strained his ears. Why, it was the sound of Selfish boomboxes, playing the favorite band of Selves everywhere, MeToo, and the song "Horrible Day"!

Hoho almost let loose another terrified scream. The rider let loose a long, drawn out shout of anguish. It was immediately followed by another, almost in Hoho's ear. It was too much for the Blobbit. He screamed with such agony that the great slime beast that was about to eat him was frightened off. It even drowned out the songs of the Selves.

Tom, who had managed to fend off the slime beast and rescue the younger blobbits immediately took command of the situation.

"Hide!" he yelled.

But it was too late. A voice was heard close by.

"Here they art, the little scoundrels!"

A great company of Selves appeared. The head Self frowned down upon them and spoke words that they did not catch.

"Say what?" said Hoho.

The Self made a waved his hand and all the boomboxes of the Selves were turned off.

"We're in trouble," whispered Hoho to Tom. "A Self lord never turns the music off unless he's going to say something that he wants to make sure someone will hear. The silence doesn't bode well with his followers."

The Self frowned at the blobbits. He raised his hand and a sense of awe fell upon them. Hoho found himself wanting to laugh.

"What art thou doing, thou little short folk? Thou art irking me. Dost thou think that my patience is everlasting? Thy bumbling ways have brought the Paisley Riders forth, which have not ridden the earth in ages! Knowest thou the penalty for such wickedness?"

Hoho swallowed. He thought he could guess.

"Death?" croaked Piping.

"Death?! Thinkest thou that we are barbarians? Nay, little short folk! The penalty for such is that you must be our slaves! And as the king of these swamplands, so do I sentence thee!"

He spoke to several burly looking Selfish warriors and they plucked the frightened blobbits out of the slime and started carrying them.

The entire company of Selves walked on for several miles until they were on firmer ground and could carry the blobbits without dropping them. Then they made them walk.

But they soon picked them up again when they found that blobbits have a peculiar trait of running very quickly from their captors. They finally came to an arbor overshadowed by very large trees. The Selves placed the blobbits under heavy guard under a great beech with overhanging boughs.

"How do they get so big?" whispered Mary.

"I suppose they eat all their vegatables," hissed Tom.

"No, I mean the trees!"

"Oh."

An hour or two later the guards came and brought them before the Selfish lord who had spoken with them earlier. His entire court stood around him with solemn looks on their faces.

The guards placed the blobbits before him and retreated.

The Self frowned upon them.

"Dost thou know what thou hast done, little short folk?"

Hoho cleared his throat and said what was on the mind of all the blobbits just then.

"I want my mommy."

The Self frowned on them until they all felt like crying. Then to their amazement and everlasting shame he started laughing uncontrollably.

"I want my mommy!" he chortled, "I have not heard anything so funny since I dost not know when! And if thou couldst just have seen the looks on thy faces! Har har har!"

He collapsed in a fit of mirth. His entire court was laughing heartily.

The blobbits looked at each other in doubt and suspision.

"Perhaps I shouldst explain," said the head Selfish guard seeing the looks on the blobbits' faces. "The lord Screendor is a great one for practical jokes. He meaneth no personal offence."

Hoho remembered one of the tales that his Uncle Dumbo had told him, long ago when he was just a youngster in the Mire. He had told him about the Selfish lord Eitheror, who mistakenly used a hand buzzer in the Great Counsil on the lord Moron. Which explained the wars that ensued.

"Then, we aren't going to be made slaves of?" said Tomfool, voicing the other thought on the blobbits' minds.

The lord Screendor recovered himself just then.

"Nay, little short folk," he said wiping his eyes. "But I do hope that thou wilst stay for dinner."

Hoho dithered. "I think we'd better be going. Can you just point the way back to the Road Going East?"

The Self looked troubled. "Nay, short one. That I cannot do. For we know not the way out of this wood. We have been wandering for six days with nothing to eat. You misunderstood me when I extended the invitation to dine with us. What I meant was will you be so kind as to let us partake of your bounty, or wilt thou let us perish of starvation in this forsaken wood? I trust you have enough for all gathered here."

He took a deep breath. "Do mine nostrils smell little red cherry tomatoes with a lemon basil sauce?"

The blobbits had no choice but to let the Selves partake of their food. They watched glumly as their hopes for dinner were dashed. The food disappeared at an alarming rate down the gullets of the incredibly greedy Selves.

Screendor finished his last tomato. He leaned back in his chair and fell asleep. The rest of the Selves gathered around a large fire and were singing songs about food.

Hoho leaned over and whispered to the other blobbits.

"When I give the signal, we'll escape into the woods."

There was no answer. Hoho turned around to see what they were doing. They were not there. They had snuck off when Screendor had started snoring. Hoho had to run almost five minutes before he caught up with them.

Of course, he had to convince them that he was really the genuine Hoho Flaggins before he could get within ten feet of them.

"Look," he said. "Who but the real Hoho Flaggins would have a wallet with a picture of Mount Lurbalurba in it?"

"You could have stolen his wallet!" said Mary. "Or falsely developed an obsession with the stupid mountain!"

But Hoho soon dispelled any doubts by threatening to go back and alert the Selves of their escape.

They walked on for about three seconds. Then Piping stopped short and gave a great cry. Of course, he being in front he stopped the others rather more rapidly than they would have liked.

"It is! It's the Road Going East!" he cried with joy. The other blobbits cried

aloud with great clamor. Their happy shouts were met with a tremolous yowl from a hilltop on their left. It was soon followed by another, followed by what sounded like a sneeze directly ahead of them.

"The Paisley Riders!" the blobbits cried in terror. They ran along the Eastward Going Road until they saw the lights of a town almost a mile away.

"Whatever happens," puffed Hoho, "I am not to be addressed as Mr. Flaggins. I want to be known as Mr. Overtheriverandthroughthewoods."

"What?" said Mary.

"Mr. Flaggins is getting one of his funny fits again, I expect," said Tom, not relishing the prospect.

They came upon the town.

"Why, It's Flee!" said Piping in surprise. "I didn't know we were near the place!"

"We sure haven't traveled long enough to get here," agreed Hoho.

"No!" said Piping. "I thought we'd be at least to the end of the earth by now!"

The blobbits were now at the gate. Hoho knocked at the gate with all of his might. Still it was half an hour before he was answered.

The gatekeeper glared down at them.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"We want to come in," said Hoho.

"Well, why did you wake me up? Didn't you see the sign? 'Come on in, the door's open'! Can't you read?"

The blobbits were once again embarrased beyond words. It was fifteen minutes before they could convince the guard to let them in. Even then, it took all the money that they could muster that the Selves had not stolen from them.

They walked on. They did not notice the dark figure that crept to the top of the wall behind them and fell to the ground with a muffled yelp, before dusting itself off and creeping off into the shadows.

Hoho was very anxious. He had planned on a nice journey, but already he had been robbed, chased by big people in very hidious clothes, and embarrased greatly. Now all he wanted was to find an inn where he could get a cheap meal and room. He wondered where could find such a place. He looked up all of a sudden. There was an almost abandoned looking place. The sign above the door read 'The Dead Bunny by Barleyguy Margarine'. It looked like just the place Hoho was looking for. He had never been more wrong in all his life.

They walked in. The very dirty common room was all but abandoned, save for several dark and sinister characters slinking in corners. One of them caught sight of the blobbits as they looked warily about them. He motioned to the others and they gathered about them, and blocked the door.

"What do you want?" cried Hoho, "Don't rob us! We have no money, all we want is a place to stay and some hot food. We didn't come all this way to be robbed and beaten by a bunch of scaliwags and hoodlums!"

The biggest man stooped and looked into Hoho's face. "Hoodlums it is, huh?" he grinned at him, showing very dirty yellow teeth. "Hoodlums nothing! I happen to be the proprietor of this fine establishment."

Hoho's heart dropped to his toes. Then it jumped into his throat and choked him and made tears form in his eyes. His stomach did flip-flops and his head felt 4 feet above his shoulders. For a moment he felt like he was at his sixth birthday party all over again.

"Well," said Barleyguy, "It looks like you've found the right place!"

Hoho seriously doubted that. His suspisions were confirmed when Barleyguy and his henchmen made them do dishes until they thought their arms would fall off and plop into the cold slimy dishwater. Then he rewarded them with a paltry meal and a night in the worst room in the building. While the blobbits were eating their dry bread and water in the common room, Hoho noticed another sinister character sitting off in another corner. (Hoho had never seen so many corners in a single building before.)

He was staring very hard at the blobbits. Hoho wondered why he hadn't joined the other henchmen's game of taunting the blobbits. The guy beckoned to him. Hoho looked at the other blobbits. They had fallen asleep at the table. Hoho swallowed hard and walked to the corner. As he approached the guy threw back his hood revealing a head. Hoho didn't even blink at this, expecting the man to have one. Hoho sat down cautiously.

"I am called Slimer," the guy said. "I wish to speak with you, Mr., Overtheriverandthroughthewoods, if I got your name right, which I hope I did."

"You're speaking with me now, aren't you?" snapped Hoho irritably.

Slimer held up his hands in defence. "Hey, don't have a cow, man, I just wanted to warn you."

Hoho was suddenly very interested in what the guy was going to say.

"Warn me about what?" he said cautiously.

Slimer looked around and bent towards Hoho. "I wish to warn you about dark men slinking in corners. Don't listen to them!"

Hoho got up to leave.

"I don't mean me!" cried the man. "Seriously, you are in grave danger. Paisley riders have been seen riding on the Eastward Going Road. It is rumored that they are looking for "Flaggins". Everyone I know of is very mad at the person who called them forth. Would you know where I could find this Flaggins? It would mean a lot to me. You see, there's a price on his head," at this point in his dialogue he paused and laughed. "And I happen to be short on cash."

Hoho was rather nervous at this news. "But why are you warning me of this? My name isn't Flaggins."

"Oh, isn't it?" said Slimer, and stood up. Hoho suddenly saw just how tall and muscular the guy was. Slimer continued. "While Barleyguy and his henchmen were making you do dishes, I stole your wallet!" He cackled and held it forth. Hoho gasped.

"Oh, you recognize it, do you, short one? Well, you'd better be happy that I'm returning it. What kind of a guy do you think I am, anyway?"

Hoho didn't say what he thought, which was just as well. Slimer handed Hoho his wallet back. Hoho inspected it. Everything was there, even his precious picture of Mt. Lurbalurba. He stuck it in his back pocket.

Slimer leaned back in his seat. Luckily, he had the presence of mind to keep from tipping over completely. "Actually, Mr. Flaggins, what I wanted to warn you about was that Barleyguy is not to be trusted. Or his henchmen. You are not safe here. I would recommend that you leave immediately, if not sooner."

Hoho sighed. "Yes, I must leave. But I don't know where to go. My original plan was to go to Flivenbell, to see my Uncle Dumbo, but I don't see how I'm going to get there."

Slimer's face brightened. "Flivenbell? Oh, I know where that is! I could take you there! I know lots of shortcuts. I've been lost, er, wandered these lands for many years. I am older than I look."

Hoho looked doubtful. "I don't know, Slimer, my uncle had a saying that he loved to say, it went 'He who tries a shorter way may not get home ere break of day', or something like that. He was very pessimistic, Uncle Dumbo." Hoho remembered the day Uncle Dumbo had first told him that. He was very young. They had spent the day looking for wild flakkberries in the woods of the Mire. Hoho had thought he knew the way home but the trail soon proved to lead to an abandoned swamp. Uncle Dumbo had given him a long lecture after that.

Hoho was suddenly aware of daylight peeking in the windows. The younger blobbits were waking up. Hoho decided to go with this strange guy, at least until all his good advice ran out.

Slimer led the blobbits through the sleeping town to the eastern end. They traveled several miles down the road to shake off any who were following. Then he led them through a swamp with many crossing paths. The blobbits were soon confused, and soon it was evident that Slimer was too. They wandered in the swamp for three days before Slimer got his bearings back.

"I knew we should have stayed at the Dead Bunny," hissed Piping to Hoho as Slimer was trying to get his boot out of a tree. "I kinda liked that Barleyguy fellow."

They wound their weary way around the feet of the looming hills just as twilight colored the crests of the clouds the color of the mountains in the far distance.

"It looks like it's going to storm," said Piping irritably and wearily.

"Shut up," said Slimer, knowing he was right and not liking it. "I think we'll camp on that hill over there. It's called Weatherornot. At the top you can see for miles around. Now get up and let's get started."

They made their even wearier way up the hill. Halfway up the large looming hill was a small bowl, facing away from the road. Tom and Piping stayed to make camp while Slimer, Hoho and Mary crawled wearily all the way up to see what they could see.

They paused wearily halfway up the hill. It was wearily higher than it looked.

"Man, am I weary," said Hoho wearily.

"Aren't we all weary?" said Mary even more wearily.

"Shut up," said Arrogant wearily. "We've got to make our weary way to the top of the hill soon, or else." He gave the blobbits a menacing yet weary look. They continued wearily on.

Finally, they stood on top of the hill and looked wearily all around. All they could see was landscape, landscape, and more landscape.

"We climbed all the weary way up only to see this?" said Mary incredulously and wearily.

"Didn't I tell you (wearily or not) to shut up?" growled Slimer weary of the blobbit's wearying jabber.

While the man and the blobbit were screaming loudly yet wearily at each other, Hoho made his weary way over to the edge of the hill and wearily looked at the road. To his horror, there were five brightly colored dots, approaching rapidly from different directions. Hoho was weary just looking at them. He wondered if he could somehow wearily creep down the other side of the hill unnoticed by the dots or his weary companions, except he was so weary he didn't know if he could. The idea was soon squelched as one of the dots emitted a loud howl. Slimer wearily threw Mary and Hoho to the ground and started to wearily crawl off towards their camp. Hoho and Mary wearily scrambled after him. As they wearily rushed into camp, they found Tom and Piping wearily lounging about without having unpacked. Slimer started yelling wearily at them to get up, but before they could stir the sun set, and the paisley riders were upon them.

They and the riders stared at each other momentarily, and wearily. Then with a yell Slimer spritely ran off into the night, leaving the weary blobbits to fight alone. Once again, Tom, as weary as he was, took control of the situation.

"Run!" he yelled.

But it was too late. The paisley riders threw themselves into battle with a fury. It was all the blobbits could do to keep themselves ahead of them. Then the Rider in the most garish costume stood up and pulled something out of his belt. Hoho saw in horror what it was. He tried to run, but with Piping mistaking him for a Paisley Rider it was something less than easy. (Also he was still weary.) The Paisley Rider threw the object at Hoho and then all the Riders suddenly disappeared.

The projectile struck Hoho a glancing blow on the shoulder, spinning him out of control. He fell to the ground in a swoon. The blobbits gathered around Hoho and wondered how to divide the spoil.