Games Hobbits Play by Lbilover

Based on a RL prank pulled by Sean, Billy and Dom, who convinced Elijah that Tig was a real game...


‘Oh no, Strider, you can’t tig on a tog,’ said Pippin.


‘I can’t? But I thought you said...’ Strider looked puzzled. ‘Or was it tag on a tig?’ He reached out and touched Sam on the shoulder again.


‘No, no, no!’ Merry exclaimed. ‘You can’t tag on a tig!’


‘Oh. I must say, this is a very confusing game. Are all hobbit games so complicated?’


‘It’s not complicated at all,’ Pippin replied. ‘Let’s try it again.’ He darted over to Frodo, tapping him twice on the chest. ‘Tigtag, tigtag!’


‘All right, I’ve got it now.’ Strider sprang toward Pippin and tapped him twice lightly on the chest. ‘Tigtag, tigtag!’ he chanted.


Merry threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘Strider, how many times do we have to tell you? You can’t double-tig a tag!’


‘But hang on,’ protested Strider. ‘Pippin just did the same thing!’


‘No I didn’t. Really, Strider, I’m surprised you’re having trouble remembering a few simple rules.’


Strider sputtered, ‘A few simple rules?’


Frodo said solemnly, ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing for it, Strider. You broke the rules - twice - and you’ll have to pay the penalty.’


‘Pay what penalty?’ The Ranger looked alarmed.


‘Well,’ said Sam, stroking his chin thoughtfully, ‘let’s see. If I recall rightly, the penalty for double-tigging a tag is to do an impression of an oliphaunt. Ain’t that right, Mr. Merry?’


‘That’s right, Sam. And don’t forget the bit about standing on one leg on a rock whilst doing it.’


‘Aye, I near forgot that. You’ll have to get up on that there rock first, Mr. Strider.’


‘Surely you can’t be serious!’


‘Rules are rules,’ Pippin said with a stubborn jut of his chin, and crossed his arms implacably on his chest. ‘Up on that rock you go.’


‘Ohhhh... very well.’ Strider stalked over to the boulder and stepped onto it. ‘But I’ll have you know that this is the last hobbit game I’m playing.’ He frowned down at them. ‘Maybe the rules make sense to you, but they certainly don’t to me.’


‘Debating the rules ain’t allowed,’ Sam said. ‘Now we’re waiting on that oliphaunt impression, Mr. Strider, and we ain’t getting any younger, if you take my meaning.’


Strider muttered something under his breath that might have been ‘good thing Arwen can’t see me’ and raised his left leg.


As he cupped his hands around his mouth and prepared to do his best oliphaunt impression, Pippin, Merry, Frodo and Sam exchanged mischievous grins. Maybe someday they’d tell Strider the truth, that there was no such game as Tig. It was just a silly something they’d made up on the spur of the moment, inventing the ridiculous rules as they went along.


Yes, maybe someday they’d tell him.


But it was not this day.