The Gobfather, Goblin King of the Moisty Mountains

The Gobfather, Goblin King of the Moisty Mountains
from The Wobbit A Parody

Friday, February 3, 2012

#8 The Wobbit's Speech (from The Superfriends Of The Ring)







Pantsoff and the two young wobbits returned to the party looking for table space that would allow the three of them to sit together. They walked past many Bunkinses and Boffos, and also many Dorks and Buckiebrands. There were various Blobbs (relations of Bulbo's grandmother) and Slobbs (connexions of his Dork grandfather who insisted on spelling "connexions" with an "x"). There was a selection of Churroses, Bulgers, Buttcrunchers, Craphouses, Widebodies, Hornhonkers and Smellfoots. The Snackbag-Bunkinses were not forgotten, and could not be, since they were rude even by wobbit standards. Oboe and his wife Earlobia hated Bulbo and liked Promo even less, but they knew if they didn't attend they would be openly lampooned by Bulbo in his inevitable after-dinner speech. Pantsoff was looking forward to it for some reason, but the wobbits he was dragging along, Mariellen and Puppy, would have chewed their own legs off to escape. 

Bulbo was about to begin. His guests were all groggy from too many fried cheese curds, or on a post-sugar buzz crash from too many deep fried Twinkies, or geezed from too much bulk-purchase beer. They were still eating and drinking, of course, and would continue to do so as long as there were tater tots and box wine within arms reach. 

Bulbo's table was in front of the Party Tree, which was festooned with toilet paper, conveniently close to the Party Latrines. The dwarves that dug them insisted that they be behind the head table to keep the run-off away from the pig-roast area. This had seemed like a smart approach until the wind shifted earlier in the afternoon. Bulbo stood up and cleared his throat.

"Stand up!" shouted a Heckler. The entire Heckler family had come all the way from distant Bugford Falls to eat Bulbo's free food.

"He is standing up!" shouted another. This is how all wobbit speeches begin.

My dear Bunkinses and Boffos, he began again; and my dear Dorks and Buckiebrands, and Blobbs, and Slobbs, and Churroses, and Hornhonkers, and Bulgers, Buttcrunchers, Widebodies, Craphouses, and Smellfoots. "SmellFEET!" shouted an elderly wobbit. 

"Smell your own feet!" shouted another of the Hecklers.

Smellfoots, insisted Bulbo. Also my good Snackbag-Bunkinses that I welcome, Bulbo paused to do air-quotes, at last, back to my condo behind Virginia's Beauty Parlor. Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday. I am eleventy-one today! One-one-one! Almost one hundred twelve! He went on like this for some time. It was all so pointless that even the Hecklers were speechless.

Like I said, Eleventy-one years, which is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable wobbits! Although when one is with my dear Snackbag-Bunkinses, eleventy one years seems like a very long time indeed. Tremendous outburst of approval.

I don't like half of you half as well as you might think, and I know less than half of what you think of me, which is how I like it. There followed a brief silence, broken when one confused wobbit yelled "He's a witch!" Nervously, Bulbo reached into his pocket, as if he was about to draw a gun and shoot his way out. But he had an even better exit planned.

Finally, he said, I wish to make a couple of announcements. Will the owner of the blue ox-cart please move it immediately, you're double parked. Also, I regret to announce that I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOODBYE!

Nothing happened. He looked panicky, patted his pockets, took a ring off his finger, and reached into his pocket again.

No kidding this time. I am leaving NOW, REALLY. GOODBYE!

He stepped down and vanished. There was a sudden flurry of fresh, hot popcorn falling out of air. The guests all took off their hats and held them up to catch yet more snack food for themselves. Then they noticed that Bulbo was gone.

"Finally!" a Heckler shouted. "I thought he'd never stop talking!"


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