"Hello Fiona, hello Douglas," whispers the farmer.
"Hewwo Fawmaw Sssskipp," lisps the snaggletoothed fighting-hobbet. After a few pleasantries are exchanged, he gets to the point: "Can we hitch a ride home with you? Fi's had enough of this town, and I need to see the dentist."
"Of course!" the Farmer replies."I'm leaving this afternoon. Will your friends be joining us as well? I seem to remember there are five of you, right?"
There is an awkward pause. Fiona stabs at her pancakes with her fork. Douglas shakes his head and says, "Just us two, Skip. The other three are... gone."
"Well... uh... That sounds like a long story. You can tell me on the ride home. Look, I'm starving and I haven't got all day. I'll be right back. Fiona, Douglas, this is... everybody. Everybody, say hi!"
Farmer Skip excuses himself and approaches the kitchen area. He raps his knuckles on the countertop and calls, "Wake up, Frederick! You have customers!!"
A doughy middle-aged Hobbet pops up from behind the counter. "Whaaa? Huh? Oh, Mister Pebbles! So good to see you! And who are these lads? New friends from home?"
"Yes, Frederick. They are hard workers. Put their meal on my tab, okay?"
"Why of course. Hello new friends! I am Frederick the Eighth, great-great-great-great-GREAT-grandson of Original Frederick. And you are? Today's menu is featuring keen-wah pancakes, potato pancakes, or puffball mushroom crepes. What will it be?"