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Al sighed and gulped down the remains of his ale. Why was it that people always just left him by himself in the middle of an important conversation? How rude!
Feeling sympathetic for himself and very unsympathetic toward the inkeeper, Al made his way to the talking twain, his empty mug in hand. He heard the end of the conversation.
"The brewer of 'such fine amber' can go be eaten by the wereworms!" he said before the newcomer could answer the last question. "All this Drew Berrybanks can make is some spittle in a jar! This brown water's not worth the mug 't's in, and the mug ain't worth 'tself either." All paused, while the other two regarded him. Al broke the silence, handing his mug to Seredic:
"Another one of those, Master Boffin!"
Even when he was as angry as a boiling kettle, Al never forgot his hobbitish common sense and courtesy.
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