Tolkieny

This morning I feel I have to recount the conversation which ensued after being faced with the previously mentioned hedge, as I feel it one that is worth a mention. I will revert to the present tense for the entire dialogue so as not to distract from the overall tone of what I experienced. I thank you for your time and patience which, during the conversation, I had begun to lose somewhat.

Me: Why has that hedge got a skirt on?
Wilf: What hedge?
Me: The big green leafy thing in front of us, with twiggy bits.....and a skirt.
Wilf: I can't see a hedge.
(At this point I had looked at him for a few seconds, then raised my eyebrows and shook my head slowly. Really slowly.)
Me: That hedge.
(I pointed to what was then the most obvious hedge in the world, whether Gnomic or human.)
Wilf: Oh that's not a hedge. That's a shrub.
(I remember sighing deeply and rather pointedly.)
Me: O.k, so why has that shrub got a skirt on?
Wilf: Because she says that trousers chafe.
Me: She?
(It was at this point that the shrub joined in the conversation, causing, for the briefest of seconds, my pulmonary artery to almost give up its job of blood pumping, pack its bags and go on holiday somewhere nice and sunny, leaving me to fight for my life.)
Shrub In Skirt: Helloooooooo, I am here you know, please don't talk about me when I am so blatantly stood in front of you.
Wilf: Say sorry and stop asking stupid questions.
(I looked down at Wilf, considered questioning the whole concept of 'stupid' but gave up.)
Me: Sorry
Shrub In Skirt: I should think so too. Are you always this disrespectful to gates?
Me: Gates?
Wilf: (Whispering out of the corner of his mouth).............
Me: You'll have to speak up you're too far away from my ear.
Wilf: (Shouting) She is The Gate.
Me: Oh. Which means what exactly?
Shrub In Skirt: 'I am The Gate through which all who pass will reach the land beyond.'
Me: Why are you talking all Tolkieny all of a sudden?
Shrub In Skirt: It was a quote. So, are you going through or what?
Wilf: Yes we are.
Shrub In Skirt: Righty ho, off you pop then.

And then Wilf opened The Gate which still, to all intents and purposes looked like a hedge in a skirt, and him and his rather quiet gnomey friend prodded me forward with their pointy sticks.

Once through The Gate I expected to find myself in some kind of old tavern, with sawdust on the floor and lots and lots of gnomes in various states of drunkeness. I even expected to see maybe an adventurer or two, scarred from battles with dragons or something and, quite possibly, a shady character with a hood in the corner of the room.

Which is precisely what I did find.