The amazing saga etc: Part Two

Faithful Ham doesn’t make it to breakfast the next morning. After being scolded by the innkeeper for not showing, she mutters something feeble about (overwhelming) fatigue and drinking (hardly any) wine at (great) altitude. He does little to mask his scepticism.

Before driving back to Nelson, Frodoboat and Hamwise visit the Enchanted Land once more. They’re standing at the gate, filming their surroundings, when a strange chariot covered in symbols pulls up. The driver is an orc.

Orc: Are you the owners?
Faithful Ham: Not yet.

There is a silent passenger in the chariot. He is not an orc. He is merely dull and stupid.

Orc: Not many properties with this amount of land left. What would you do with it?
Faithful Ham: Set it up along permaculture lines … regenerate more native bush … maybe put a B&B on it.
Orc: Well, I build eco-homes. Carve it up and I’ll build all the houses for you. That house there doesn’t look like much. Tear it down, carve up the land, put an eco-village on it … you’d make a fortune. (He uses the phrase ‘carve it up’ twice more in the conversation.)
Faithful Ham: Wow. Your obvious deep love and respect for the land is very touching. Am I going to have to fight you for this place?
Orc: Oh no … my money’s all tied up in properties I’m building in town. I wouldn’t be able to afford it.
(He eventually departs, for which relief Frodoboat and Faithful Ham sacrifice 17 goats, someone’s pet lamb and a crow that got in the way)
Faithful Ham: Babe, if you’re sure about buying this property, we need to ring Gand-Agent right now and make an offer. I don’t trust that guy.

The phone call is made on the shores of Lake Rotoiti, while eating pies. Gand-Agent instructs the pair to meet him in his tower later in the afternoon. When they arrive …

Gand-Agent: Someone else flew in from Hamilton this morning and I’ve taken them to see the property. They’ve already made an offer. I can’t tell you the amount, obviously, but I’ve told them I’ll be presenting yours to Vend-or first. You need to understand that if your offer is unsuccessful, you probably won’t have any come-back.
Frodoboat and Faithful Ham: (shattered)

They put in their very best offer. They’re not optimistic. Gand-Agent doesn’t seem very optimistic either. He tells them he’ll ring them back that evening with Vend-or’s decision. Utterly dejected, they leave Gand-Agent’s tower and look for somewhere to eat.

Faithful Ham: There’s a restaurant in town called Plan B. Let’s go there because I have a feeling we’re going to need one.

The restaurant is shut. It’s a miserable, rainy Sunday night. They start hunting for somewhere, anywhere that’s open. Eventually, they find a nicely refurbished pub with a restaurant. The place is called The Verdict*.

They enter to the strains of mournful violins. The local tango club has booked out the restaurant for its weekly get-together. Beautifully-dressed middle-aged people wander in and out, managing to look simultaneously self-conscious and self-important. An apologetic barman who looks a little like David Wenham (happy, Lizz?) informs us we’ll have to sit in the bar and slum it with the rest of the non-tango personnel.

A few drinks later, the snivelling begins …

Frodoboat: (eyes welling but in a manly way) I should’ve offered more …
Faithful Ham: (blubbering openly) I can’t believe we came all this way, just to lose it at the end …
Frodoboat: We don’t know that yet … we have to keep hoping … but I don’t know if I have the strength … (hangs head over beer)
Faithful Ham: Come on, dear Mr Frodoboat. Snap out of it. I can’t carry this burden of worry for you … and I can’t carry you either, you fat bastard.
Frodoboat: (to the David Wenham look-alike barman) What the fuck are you looking at?
Barman: (whimpers)

To be continued …

* I swear I’m not making this up.

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