The Barrow-Wight crawled to his phone and dialed 9-11.
"Hello, this is the Shiriff, do you have an emergency?"
"You bet I do! My lawn is full of underage hobbits drinking alcohol and behaving like a pack of Brandybucks at a wake. Like a whole gross of 'em! And I haven't been able tosleep a wink all night. And i think one of them has a weapon."
"We'll be right over!"
"Heh. Heh. I might not be able to abduct and sacrifice them, but I can at least get them arrested."
With that, he slithered back to the furthest recesses of his tomb and fell into a death-like trance.
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The Barrow-Wight
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