[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

"Why, thank you, old thing: you're looking pretty nice yourself."

Squatter put down his fourth whisky and smiled urbanely, effortlessly glossing over his somewhat rosy complexion. He hailed Diamond, with the cheery bonhomie of someone whose drinks are being bought by someone else, as indeed he was greeting anyone who happened to throw a couple of words his way. "Not sure exactly what this evening's about, old girl; but the bar's top-notch," he added helpfully.

Suddenly the hirsuit hedon's eye was drawn to an outlandish figure striding fowlly across the room. "I say," he remarked. "Is that a huge yellow chicken?" He looked at his glass suspiciously and put it down. "Knew it was too good to be true," he muttered.