[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post - Edmund

Edmund Woolthistle, a young lad of seven years, sat on a little stool in the kitchen of the Prancing Pony, a basket of potatoes at his feet. His freckled face was bright read, partly with anger and partly because of his efforts. He had already peeled the awesome amount of five whole potatoes for Cook to mash later, and he was feeling pretty exhausted. Cook was, obviously, cooking, but at the same time she was watching Edmund with a stern eye.

He had to endure this suffering all because of that silly hobbit boy! What a crybaby he had been. All they (meaning Edmund and his ne'er-do-well friends) had done was try to have a bit of fun with him (which, you must take note, means teasing) and he had burst into tears. So when they had tried to play a game with him (stealing his hat and tossing it to one another, causing the poor hobbit boy more distress), they had expected him to cheer up, but did he? Of course not! He was a hobbit, so he wouldn't.

I am being punished because some stupid hobbit is a crybaby, Edmund thought ferociously, picking up another potato. I'll be stuck in this stupid kitchen all day because of that stupid crybaby. Reflecting on this grim thought, Edmund felt anger building up at rapid paces inside of him. Forgetting that Cook was watching him, even forgetting that he was sitting in the prison of the kitchen, he took up the potato he had just finished and hurtled it across the room. It narrowly missed Cook's head and with an indescribable noise hit the kitchen wall. Cook immediately turned flashing eyes towards Edmund, but the boy's own blue eyes showed no signs of remorse for what he had just done.

"...and if Edmund should cause any further trouble while in the kitchen, you may think of a suitable punishment for him." Those had been Andreth's words. Cook didn't hesitate to carry them out. "Edmund Woolthistle, you will clean up that mess immediately, and then you will finish those potatoes. Instead of letting you off after dinner like I had originally intended, you will stay and help me clean up. You can expect to be doing many dishes and scrubbing many tables, young man."

Edmund gave her a sour look as he crossed the kitchen to take care of the crushed potato. His slightly chubby face turned an even deeper shade of red, if that were possible. He had planned to take care of his wounded squirrel after dinner, but now Cook had to spoil it all. She would feel sorry when the squirrel died, that she would. But the poor squirrel, that had to suffer so that horrible Cook could satisfy her need for punishing innocent little boys! Edmund thought all these things with the anger increasing in him. The injustice of the world was too great.