The Saga of Lloyd Trilby

Written by: Gellert-The Irish Wolfhound

Lloyd=Grey, Trilby=Hat. Thusly, Lloyd Trilby means “Grey Hat”.

“Gandie! Gandie!” Sang a little Hobbit, jumping out from where he had been hiding. He stopped short when he saw that the wizard had traded in his dull grey robe-type thing for a wild flowery hawaiian shirt and neon orange shorts, none-the-less keeping the dull grey, but very pointy hat.

“Well, is it Frodo? Well, bless my little pointy hat! Frodo, long time no see eghh?”

“G-G-G-G-G-andie? Oh, um. Look at the time! I realllllly got to be going!” and with this Frodo jumped over the hedge, dove under the nearest cart and started sobbing.

“Well now Lloyd, that wasn’t very nice of him!” shouted Gandie, struggling to catch the reins that he had dropped. All of a sudden he saw Merry running towards him screaming something.

“Well now Meriadoc Brandybuck! Say hello to Merry, Lloyd Trilby!” and with this Gandie made the hat “wave” at him. This cheered Merry up and made him start to giggle.

“A talking hat, WOW! Could I hold it Gandie?” he said looking up with his childlike face, and blinked very nicely at him.

“Well, if you’re VERY VERY nice and don’t pinch it anywhere.” This pleased Merry very much and he put it on and started running to where he thought the Green Dragon was to show Pippin. Unfortunately, the hat was SO big on him that it covered his eyes and he couldn’t see the cart coming straight for him.

Fortunately carts in the Shire go about two miles an hour and it hardly bumped him. Unfortunately though, he was just about to jump over the little muddy stream beside the road when it bumped him. Merry went sailing over the stream but the hat was not so lucky. It was flung from his head and landed deep in the mud, crushing the pointy tip that Gandie was so proud of.

“Hey, Gandie!” shouted Sam, emerging from the cart. “Look at what I found!”

He bent over an object in the mud and picked it up with his thumb and forefinger. “I think its a coney! I’m going home and cook it up for afternoon tea!” And with this he jumped back in the cart and went at record speed (5mph wow!) to get home in time to cook it. Gandie had no chance of catching Sam for he was halfway down the road before Gandie started after him. Merry got up giggling and went skippily on his way to the Green Dragon, totally forgetting what had just happened.

Gandie arrived huffing and puffing at Bag End just in time to look into the window and see Sam put Lloyd in boiling water. He passed out.

“Hey, Mr. Frodo!” shouted Sam, picking up the pan of hot water and bringing it to the easy chair where Frodo was lounging. “This is no coney, I think its a hedgehog! Yes sirree, its a hedgehog all right. Believe you me, Mr. Frodo, us Gamgees know what we’re talkin’ about.” And with this he hurled the pan of boiling water (and Lloyd) out the back window at the compost pile.

Sam turned around then and headed back to the kitchen for he knew he must have something for Frodo for afternoon tea. He surveyed the empty pantry with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Bread, Crisco and some chocolate chips decorated the shelves mockingly. He knew what he must do. He turned bleakly to the bread and glumly tucked a few slices in his pockets. Then turned to the Crisco and picked up the jar with as much gusto as a can of mayonnaise that had sat on he counter all night. As he went out he grabbed the chocolate chips and stuffed a few in his mouth, yes it would work. He headed to the kitchen once again and began making sandwiches with the above ingredients. It took him all of two minutes to make them.

He tried to put on a happy face when Frodo walked it the room. He handed him his sandwich and tried to smile when Frodo took a big bite.

“Mhh mot hab flam! Ummm, ic iz hoclet????!!!”

“Chocolate? Well, ummmmmmmmm, noooo its uhh, uhh, well, yeah its uhh, chocolate,” said Sam thrusting his hands in his pocket.

“You know Sam,” said Frodo after finishing his sandwich, “Someday you are going to make some money on that one.” With this he smiled and walked back to his easy chair and sat down.

“Yeah, sure Mr. Frodo,” Sam shook his head at him and went on cleaning the kitchen.

Around this time Gandie woke up, just in time to see to see Sam putting the pot away. It was over. No more carefree days in the meadows, picnicing, eating, and running together. It was all over. Yes, it was a very sad Gandie that walked into the Green Dragon that night.


“Hey, where’s Gandie?” Squealed Frodo, coming to the breakfast table the next morning.

“I don’t think that he stayed here last night Mr. Frodo,” stated Sam flipping the eggs. “Said something about not feeling safe in the hands of murderers. Or something to that effect.”

“Thats too bad Sam, you could have given him some of your yummy sandwiches!” Frodo looked at his lap sadly and then cheered up a bit when he asked what was for breakfast.

“Your favorite, Mr. Frodo! An omelette with pickled mushrooms and sourkraut!!” Sam picked up the pan and dumped the rather disgusting looking contents on a plate and placed it before Frodo.

“MMMM!! Thanks Sam!!! Maybe you had better make sure that Gandie eats something! Take over some of your samwhiches! Did you notice how I said that Sam? I said SAMwhiches!!! HAHA! That was a good joke!!”

“Yes Mr. Frodo. You should become a comedian. Very, very, very funny.” Sam didn’t think that Gandie needed to be fed, but just to humor him he took over a couple of sandwiches.

After arriving at the Green Dragon he walked up to the front desk and asked which room Gandie was staying in. After receiving directions he stomped up the stairs and made his way to door number 134, third floor from the top. It was highly unlikely that the Crisco could make it that long. In fact, it wasn’t going to. It started to smell around door number 35 and was oozing at door number 43.

He knew that it was only time until the ocupents of the rooms emerged and started chasing him.

What could he do? It was to far to go back down and what could he do at his destination?

He was in small hallway with only a small bleak little candle lighting the way. On the other end of the hall way was a laundry chute. Should he blame it on the laundry man once again? He knew that he was going to catch up on him soon enough with out him dropping smelly Crisco sandwiches down the chute.

He was about to continue on his rather smelly way when he heard the mob coming down the stairs, so he quickly dumped the sandwiches down the chute and started running down the stairs, hoping to out run the mob.

He arrived at the lobby about two seconds ahead of them, enough time to get out of the way of the speeding bus-boy, but not in time to get out of the way of the charging mob.

The mob picked him up and threw him out the door. Sam landed right next to the laundry man’s cart, just as he was getting in. He had a little more grease in his hair then usual. Sam didn’t have a chance.


Gandie wasn’t there when the mob was started, for he had gotten up early to search for Lloyd.

Searching, calling, walking, walking, calling, looking under trash cans (a favorite past time) just in case Lloyd had escaped.

It was time for mid afternoon tea when a sad, disheartened Gandie wandered back on to the main road. And even then you could see traces of the mob, piles of trash, millions of foot prints, even the mark where the Laundry Man pounded Sam in to the ground was still visible.

Gandie noticed nothing, not even the stench that plagued Hobbiton for miles, a stench that was never exactly pin pointed, except that the Green Dragon never had as many vistors again and what people that did come never stayed long.

He decided that he would stop and see Frodo before continuing the search.

“Hey, Sam! Look! Look!! Its Gandie!” Squealed Frodo, jumping up and down in front of the window.

“Well, now I guess your right, he sure looks hungry doesn’t he Mr. Frodo? Too bad we’re out of Crisco!”

“Auuu, are we out of Crisco Sam!?” Frodo’s lower lip started to tremble and tears started to fall down his cheeks.

“Now, now there, Mr. Frodo. I can run over to the store yet, there’s still time. Now you make a good host while I’m gone.” With this, Sam grabbed some money out of the secret stash and ran to the store.

When he came back, Gandie was sitting in the guest chair looking quite forlorn.

Sam went in to the kitchen and started taking stuff out of the bag.

Gandie wanted desperately to know if they had enjoyed their coney, but wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to ask.

He finally did.

“Why, Mr. Gandie,” started Sam looking up from with Criscoed hands (they were out of knives) “It was the strangest thing, I got it home and it was a hedgehog! So, its still out back, I tossed it in to the compost pile. It might still be there, if no wild dogs dragged it off.”

A cry escaped Gandie’s lips. Was it possible that Lloyd could be all right? Inconceivable sure, but was it possible? He jumped out and ran out the door to the compost pile and started digging through a day’s worth of compost with his bare hands. Yuck.

He felt a bit of cloth, he dug deeper. Excitement grew. The brim, the wonderful point that wasn’t so pointy any more, and then the hat itself was out, free, unshackled from the unmeasurable filth that decorates Hobbits compost piles.

Gandie took it and embraced it, it didn’t matter if Lloyd was dirty, unpointy, and sagging, he had Lloyd back.

He rushed into the house and ran to the sink, he tenderly rinsed Lloyd under the gentle stream that trickled from the faucet and began the tedious task of making Lloyd new and clean again.

Two hours later the hat was clean and dry, but not pointy, so Gandie grabbed the sandwich from Frodo and smeared in on to Lloyd, Yes, It worked. It took a lot of Crisco, but at long last Lloyd was pointy again.

Gandie patted it lovingly and then set it upon his head. Ahhh yes, perfect fit, a little paler grey perhaps, but still the same Lloyd.

He waved cheerily to Frodo and Sam and then jumped back in to his cart and went on his way.

The End.


GANDIE T. GREY almost made it to the end of the street before the Laundry Man recognised the smell. He was chased until the edge of the Shire, and then the Laundry Man gave up. Gandie is a fugitive, and no longer allowed in the Shire.

LLOYD TRILBY lived a good long life, for a hat. I think. You can see him at the Rivendell Gallery of Obtuse and Down-right Weird Art.

FRODO still lives in Bag End but hardly goes there any more, for he spends his days in front of the grocery store holding a sign, boycotting the ban of Crisco.

SAM still spends his days in Bag End with his wife and daughter. He still makes his infamous Chocolate chip sandwiches. And twenty five years after the Lloyd Trilby incident, the Thain decided, much to Frodo’s glee, to officaly rename sandwiches “Samwhiches”.

THE LAUNDRY MAN still fantasizes for the day to have Sam cornered in a dark alley alone.


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