In Which We Bring You Stories Relating to Christmas and/or Coffee and Shamelessly Self-promote Our Company and Goods.
The Story of The One Ring as Told by Someone who Can’t Discern the Difference Between Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. His name was Bilbo Baggins.
Bilbo had just been asked by Gandalf to go on a quest with the dwarves to the Lonely Mountain when in walked Dumbledore.
“Gandalf!” said Dumbledore. “What are you doing here?”
Gandalf blew a smoke ring.
“I have just given my little friend here an adventure to go on.”
“But I have an adventure that I need Bilbo for.” said Dumbledore.
“Well you can’t have him. I was here first.”
Bilbo glanced back and forth between the two wizards not sure what the Mordor he was supposed to do.
“You don’t understand. The Dark Lord has regained his strength.”
“Which Dark Lord?”
“Psh! Who do you think?”
“Well, there are two dark lords. One is an eye and the other a snake.”
“Oh, of course, I meant the snake one. Do you mind if I steal Bilbo real quick?” asked Dumbledore.
Gandalf furrowed his brow. “Fine, but I fear for the caves into which you will bring this young hobbit friend of ours. He may not come back.”
“Go on.” said Gandalf.
“Yes!” said Dumbledore. “Bilbo grab my arm.”
“We’re going to apparate.”
The next minute Dumbledore and Bilbo stood in the center of a cold and dank cave.
“What are we doing here?” asked Bilbo.
“There is a creature who lives down here,” said Dumbledore sending a light from the tip of his wand to the top of the cave. “He possesses a very powerful tool that we must find and take. Without it, the Dark Lord will lose much of his strength.”
“Is it a horcrux? Or perhaps a ring?”
“What? No. It’s a Bee House Coffee Dripper.”
“A coffee dripper?”
“Yes. It’s a form of coffee brewing called a ‘pourover.’ The Dwarves and men with beards are super into it.”
“Well, what does it have to do with The Dark Lord?”
“This Bee House Dripper, while producing no inherently magical qualities, makes one of the best cups of coffee you will ever have. The Dark Lord uses it to make his coffee every morning. It gives him the strength he needs to go on taking the world over.”
Dumbledore and Bilbo crept around the slippery rocks and foul smelling pooled water.
“It’s close.” said Dumbledore. “I can smell the aromatics of it.”
As they crept around a large boulder that looked like a dementor, they saw him. The creature Gollum with a Hario Kettle and a Bee House Dripper making Charming Beard Coffee. He was wearing suspenders, a knit cap, and sporting a handlebar mustache.
“What does it wants with us?” asked Gollum. “They wants our precious. That’s what they wants with us.”
Dumbledore moved quick. “Acio Bee House Dripper!” And the dripper flew out of Gollum’s reach and into the hands of Dumbledore.
“Quick!” said Dumbledore. Bilbo grabbed his hand and they apparated back to the Shire.
“No! It tricks us!” screamed Gollum. “My precious!”
The next morning, after Voldemort yawned loudly and slapped his cheeks a couple time to get his evil grin going, he went into the kitchen to make himself a pour-over. He ground some Charming Beard Coffee (it wasn’t particularly evil, but it was damn good coffee), but as he went to summon the dripper he couldn’t do it. In a flash he realized what ha happened. His precious was stolen.
It took him two boxes of tissues and a dozen donuts to cure his depressed spirit that morning. He didn’t even know if it was worth it to keep doing evil. Not without his morning coffee anyways.