Everyone, cheer for the fabulous Sixty-four K, who has kindly agreed to beta this mad story! Give her lots of donuts and Kool-aid, because she will need them after beta-ing this insanity!

Disclaimer: The unfortunate author of this story is in no way responsible for the reader wishing to punch happy people, loss of blood or teeth, a perfectly rational fear of hugs, or a damaged ability to be out of touch with reality. Read at your own risk.

Elrond handed Erestor a piece of paper. "There," the Lord said, and then rushed away to go bother someone else.

Erestor read the paper and scowled. "WHY?" he shrieked to the ceiling above him, clearly yelling at the Valar. "Why must Imladris be saddled with the most annoying and disgustingly happy Balrog-slayer in existence? Why could you not have sent back someone else?!"

The Valar quite rudely didn't answer.

Erestor threw the paper and stormed over to the window. He glowered through the window for a long while at Glorfindel, who was randomly hugging people left and right. "I'm going to give him a week of latrine duty as soon as possible," the adviser muttered darkly under his breath.

Glorfindel hugged the last person and danced away into another building.

Erestor scowled and grabbed as many books as possible before he violently stomped out of the room and down the hallway. Just as he rounded a corner, someone tall and golden and smiley banged into him and knocked him over.

Letters went flying, precious scrolls were scattered, and beautiful books were tossed onto the floor as Erestor ungracefully lost his balance and fell with a scream.

Glorfindel gasped and yanked him up, then smothered him in a hug.

That was the LAST STRAW.

Erestor kicked the warrior as fiercely as he could – right in the knee, too – and was maliciously satisfied when Glorfindel dropped him and hobbled away, no doubt to go torture someone else.

He picked up his papers and books quickly, vengeance filling his mind.

Ten minutes later, Elrond dashed into the room, his nose dripping blood all over the place. Erestor very helpfully stuffed a tissue up his nose.

"Danks," said Elrond. "Bud I hab do dell you domething!"

"You...have to tell me something?" said Erestor, magically deciphering the strange language Elrond was speaking in.

"Yed! Glorthindel ith running around hugging the randometht peopleth! He'th making havoc eveewheh!"

"That totally made sense to whoever's reading this," said Erestor. Suddenly he gasped and stood very straight. "Glorfindel is hugging people! This is terrible! No! We can't have this! He's going to traumatize everyone!"

"He'th aweady twaumatithed me and Cewebwian and our wittle babieth!" said Elrond with a very affronted expression. "Thath what I telling you! You hath to thtop him!"

"I must stop him!" Erestor said, ignoring Elrond. He dashed over to the closet in his study and threw on a black cloak. When he pulled the hood up, he looked very creepy – a pale shortish elf drowning in a sea of black fabric. "Fear not!" cried the genius adviser. "I shall save Middle Earth!"

"Oh good," said Elrond, still clutching his poor nose.

"Starting with you!" Erestor sped over to Elrond and punched him square in the face.

"Owie!" shrieked Elrond, falling pathetically to the floor. "What wath that for!"

"I un-traumatized you," said Erestor in malevolent delight, then dashed out of the room.

Elrond sank to the floor. "Oh," he said happily. "I feel better aweady."

Review or Erestor will assume you have been hug-traumatized and so give you the cure.