“It belongs in a museum!” the man with the strange hat shouted.

“No!” the hobbit shouted back, his fist clenched around the precious ring. “You can’t have it!”

“Listen, kid,” the man with the strange hat started sternly. He reached for a whip hanging from his side, and slowly unfolded it. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

“No!” the hobbit shouted again, terror shining from his eyes. He pressed his back against the wall. There was no way out.

The man in the hat whirled the whip around menacingly, a smug grin on his face. “There’s nothing you can do, kid. Hand it over.”

The hobbit stared at the whip, at the ring, at the man in the strange hat.

And vanished.

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