A bit of an AU a farce drabble!
Pippin stared wide-eyed at what was definitely Hobbit paradise. Counters of food stretched out as far as the eye could see. Rolls, cheeses, pie slices and cake lay everywhere.
In wonder, he gripped a tray of strange wood and slid it along a handy ledge, past lines of stern big folk in white aprons and strange netted hats.
“Beef tips, fish or casserole?” one grunted.
“Yes please.”
“Which one?” The woman scowled darkly. “You *have* to choose.”
“Choose?”
Bubble bursting, Pippin understood at last what Strider had earlier warned. This place… this cafeteria, was truly a perversion of Mordor.