Shooty
((Artwork credit: The masterful Rafel!))
I am Inspector Peter Selby of the Bree-town Watch. Here lies my transcript from the first interview with a hobbit regarding his encounter with so-called ‘Greengrove’. The Shireling’s name is Roger Tunnelly, though that took some getting out of him – he insists on going by ‘Shooty’. Our initials will represent our parts in the dialogue, as regulation requires. The interview begins as follows, as recorded by my trusted colleague, Constable Sally Hubbard.
P.S. So, Mister Tunnelly. Would you like to tell me how you came to meet the so-called Greengrove?
R.T. That’s Shooty to you, Inspector, sir! I used to be a bounder, you know! Of archer variety! And crikey was I effective.
P.S. I could have you strung upside down by your hairy toes if you like.
R.T. Goodness to gracious, mister! I-..well…you… gosh-
P.S. Sally, make a note that our guest appears to be perspiring.
R.T. Am not! Constable Hubbard, make a note that Inspector Selby is no better than a Sackvil
S.H. No.
R.T. Goodness to gracious.
P.S. If we could return to the purpose of this interview. That is, you being an associate of Old Greengrove. At least, that's what you've been heard proudly stating about The Prancing Pony, of late.
R.T. It's Shooty, or Shtumy.
P.S. Constable Hubbard. Send word to the dungeons that the hobbit toe shackles need to be prepared-
R.T. I've only encountered Mister Greengrove twice, good Inspector and Madame Constable! Yup. The first time I was down near Buckland way. Down there hobbits call him Old Movin' Tree or Mad Old Mushroom Man. He's banished from Bucks and won't cross the Brandywine for likely meeting the same fate. I tell you, we hobbits can be real mean when the occasion calls! I was a bounder you know. And boy was I fierce-
P.S. Back to Greengrove, please.
R.T. Hmph! Well, I'm usually rather guarded about my name, see, Inspector. My real one, that is.
P.S. We are aware.
R.T. But when I be meeting him that first time, poof! Up I done surrendered it there and then, all in an instant. There was something about his way that got me to blabber out even my closest-guarded secrets. Honestly! Even some of my fellow Tunnelly's did done forgotten I was a Roger!
P.S. Stay the course now, little one.
R.T. Bah! Well, anyway, we had a chat after that. In this little grove of trees, we were. I was all nervous, but as narrow-eyed as a Sackville Baggins. Fellow was tall, see, even by menfolk standards! I'd put him easily at 15ft. Crikey! And he were covered in leaves, and ivy… and mushrooms. And boy they looked tasty!
P.S. What happened, Mister Tunnelly?
R.T. We just chatted about some gardening, Inspector. He was a ho-ho-hoing, and 'hrooming', whatever in the Shire that language be. And we spoke about weathers. I kept it cordial, but goodness to gracious, I wanted to light out from that scene, let me tell you. But I bided my time, he'd catch me if I wasn't cunning. He knew I wasn't myself, and it seemed to make him pleased. Joyful, even!
P.S. And you parted ways without incident?
R.T. Yup! I says, 'Wait here, Mister Greengrove, sir! I've got a mighty precious gift for you. And I'll be right back with it underarm!' And then I tactically retreated to Buckland, had lunch all the way through to supper. But then I were in fits and starts, see. So, I went back near to the spot I met him and hid - he were still there, waiting for me! I could have sworn he glanced at the bush I was in more than once, too! Still, about thirty minutes after that, he finally left, Inspector.
P.S. Being banished from a town is no small thing, even if that town is full of small people. Heh.
S.H. Very funny sir.
P.S. Thank you. Mister Tunnelly, did you did not think to engage the stranger further to investigate his purposes, as an esteemed bounder of Shire origin?
R.T. An esteemed retired bounder, thank you very much, Inspector!
P.S. What of the second time?
R.T. You know, in the Shire, the great bounders interview their subjects over a nice slice of cake. And a cup of tea! In fact, many meals can be interspersed through such dialogues, if they continue on long enough. It can be a rather fine social occasion, Inspector!
P.S. Constable Hubbard. Prepare The Hobbit Table of Terrible Terrors.
R.T. Now wait there just a minute! Whatever is that?!
P.S. Oh you really don't want to know.
R.T. Second time I met Greengrove it was some months later. I were out walking in the wood beyond Knotwood, Bree-land. I had visited a cousin in Staddle, see. I was wearing a pin, an elvish leaf to be precise, given to me by fair Lady Lendreth. And I'd decided to grow my hair out-
P.S. Mr Tunnelly.
R.T. Anywhosit. I stood atop a rock, lit my pipe, and put both hands on my hips as I took in the green scene! And the critters running about. My-my-my, was it peaceful, Inspector. But then it was as if one of the trees behind me scooped me up in its arms and gave me a big hug! It lifted me high and held me tight. My pipe was spat out, and I almost did a wee from the fright of it all!
P.S. It was Greengrove?
R.T. Yup! Turns out the spot I chose was right outside his home.
P.S. And then what happened?
R.T. Well he weren't upset with me for abandoning him. He was glad of me. And it was him who gave me gifts in the end. A new pipe for the one that got all muddy, and many varieties of pipeweed to go along with it. And after that, friendship came fast for the two of us, and we put out the fire as a team, Inspector!
P.S. The fire? Your rivalry was that intense?
R.T. Um, no? My first pipe was lit, inspector. And it set some things ablaze when I spat it out into the turf.
P.S. Ah, I see. And what types of pipeweed did he gift you with?
R.T. Classics like Old Toby, but new ones I ain't never sampled before neither! I were blowing dragons out of my nostrils at one point.
P.S. Okay. And then what happened?
R.T. He took me in! I had lunch with him and his wife. Her name was Silverstream, and by the hair on my toes, she was fair! Fairer than any elf I'd seen, I'd wager, and goodness, they can be fair too!
P.S. The mad hermit has a wife, hm? Interesting. Sounds like he's punching, too. Well then, Constable Hubbard, gather up some watchers. Mister Tunnelly here will be taking us to the home of this Greengrove so we can question the man himself.
R.T. Goodness! And whatever do you want with him?
P.S. We've had complaints from Asdo's Camp that he is disturbing the peace. And after your tales of Buckland banishments, which is Bree-land territory, and arson of the Bree-land wood, and unknown pipeweed trading, we now have further cause to pay this fellow a visit and bring him in for questioning.
R.T. All of a sudden, my little legs are ever so tired, you know, Inspector!
P.S. Constable Hubbard. Send word to the dungeons-
R.T. Yes-yes-yes. Right this way.
