'At the Sign of the Prancing Pony' (Every Friday; 2:00 & 7:00 PM)

The smell of pipeweed and the sound of merry laughter drifts from the open door of the Inn of the Prancing Pony. It is a Highday, and like every Highday, Barliman Butterbur has opened his  common room to guests from lands near and far to sample his beer in exchange for coin, conversation, and a promise 'not to go up into thin air, thank you very much!'

This week's (February 21, 2025) hook: 

It is with deepest regret that we must inform you — The Prancing Pony Inn is closing down!

…for a day.

An elderly relative of proprietor Barliman Butterber is celebrating his 80th birthday in a small hamlet some ten miles from Bree come the morrow, necessitating the barman’s absence until the evening after. It is rare indeed for Barli to take any time off at all, and ordinarily, it would be of little concern — Bob, Nob, and his other workers being more than capable of handling matters in his absence.

But Barliman’s uncle could not have celebrated his birthday at a more inconvenient time. For Bob’s family has recently grown a little larger, and as such, he is only working a few hours a week over the coming month. And as for Nob, well! while his sighs and love-stricken tears have become ever more infrequent, the bitter sting of a wounded heart is not swiftly healed — or to put it in Barliman’s own words, “The poor lad still ain’t any more use than a cart drawn by a cat, and that’s a fact.”

As such, Barliman has made the difficult decision to close down the Pony’s common room for a whole day. Nob will be on hand in his absence to attend any travellers who need lodging for the night in the public house, and Bob will take advantage of the peace and quiet to do a spot of spring-cleaning. But, for a single day, the Prancing Pony will be closed for business.

This is not news to most folk, for Barliman has made a point of informing his regulars over the last few weeks of his absence the coming Sterday — and indeed, so excited is the chattering innkeeper at his upcoming journey that it seems likely that half of all Middle-earth must know of it by now (whether they wanted or no), for he has talked the ear off anyone willing to allow him half a moment.

Even so, as regular patrons and passing travellers alike gather in the Prancing Pony this Highday, it is with an odd, almost bittersweet feeling. It is difficult not to be pleased for Barliman’s sake, given how overjoyed he himself is. And it is, of course, only a single day that the Pony will be closed for.

But for some, more thoughtful patrons, it is a reminder that even this venerable and beloved establishment is not eternal — one day, the Pony’s doors will close forever. And for the rest, the prospect of a day without the chance of enjoying Barli’s malt is certainly unwelcome.

Nonetheless. For one more night, the beer is flowing and the company is merry. One more night, ere the Pony closes its doors…if only for a day!