The Shire's Deadly Flower

Down, Down, Down In Goblin Town

I tumbled through the air and landed with a painful thud on a rough wooden floor with Thorin on top of me. My face was red both due to the increased proximity and the fact that Thorin was crushing my windpipe under his left shoulder. He only succeeded in hurriedly apologizing and moving his shoulder off of my throat when both of his nephews and Bofur were violently thrown on top of Thorin and I. Just as I managed to get most of my body free from the haphazard pile that was The Company, a set of slimy, filthy, and clawed hands knotted themselves in my hair and jerked violently.

I looked up with a yelp and saw a swarm of hideously deformed creatures, most likely goblins. Curses! I mentally slapped myself and physically slapped the goblin. The floor was the trap; not the walls! I should have known that sand isn't that common so high up in the mountains. As soon as I had gotten my first attacker off of me, a small army immediately followed. As I tried to scratch at the endless sea of grubby little creatures that smelled of coal, dirt, and years of not bathing, my pack was torn violently from my back. They next tried to remove my cloak, but shrieked once they saw the Lorien leaf clasp holding the cloak on my shoulders. I smirked, whacked a few goblins in the face with my cloak, and yanked Fili and Kili closer to me. The goblins began shoving the group of us like cattle along a labyrinth of rickety, mostly railess wooden bridges that spread like a spider web across the chasm below. Fili and Kili gripped my hands tightly so I wouldn't be trampled under the feet of the rest of The Company and the goblins shoving us along. I was being shoved so hard that I was being lifted off of the ground.

Due to the fact that I was now violently a foot taller than I had previously been, I could now see more of the disgusting city we were in. There were twisted metal torches lining the walkways and wooden balconies full of goblins lining the walls. One of these wooden platforms actually contained a band that struck of a loud, vile tune that caused Bifur and a few other dwarves to clap their hands over their ears. A low, grovelling voice echoed across the cave.

"I feel a song coming on." my head snapped towards where the goblins were leading us and there he sat. The disgusting lump of a goblin that must be somehow governing the place. He was at least nine feet tall and as fat as I imagined an extremely overindulgent king would be. He could have also passed as a nine foot tall and nine hundred year old version of Bombur. That is, if he had hair and what would have been his beard wasn't one massive drooping chin that hung nearly to his waist. He lifted himself off of his throne with the help of a pronged, skull-topped spear and several of his subjects as a footstool. They squeaked horribly. The goblin king began to sing.

"Clap snap the black crack!

Grip, grab, pinch, and nab!

Batter and beat!

Make them stammer and squeak!

Pound, pound, far under grounddddd...

Down down down in Goblin Town..." he nearly crushed his subjects as he spun in a circle, his chin and belly jiggling all the while. The thousands of goblins lining the walls echoed him.

"Down down down in Goblin Town..."

"With a swish and a smack and a whip and a crack,

Everybody talks when they're on my rack!

Pound pound far under ground...