In a hole in the ground there lives a hobbit. A hobbit is a short hairy creature that lives in murky burrows underground. They may read and write and cook and clean, they may make a home look livable, but such a manipulative destructive creature one would have never seen.
The hobbit hole has a circular door painted a sickly gree that reminds most of a ship's window. The door opens to a smoky tunel made in dirt. A tunnel parasite ridden with icy tiled floors, sticky brown carpet and dark wooden panelling.
Althought in this trickster house there are chairs and pegs, and all seems like a pleasant place. It cannot hide the true nature of the viscious hobbit that dwells within its dirt walls. What you must know is that a hobbit is very dentally hygenic. A reflective shiny white smile would trick most for a cup of tea and a tale, but, little do most know that a hobbit, a rowdy beast, would floss its teeth with the stretched veins of its last victim.
A hobbit, most known for manners and courtesy, would give its visitors a lovely feast before gutting its visiotors like it guts one's fish. An old saying 'round the moore is "beware leaving a fish out for it could be stolen by a hobbit, and a hobbit kills one's victims like it kills one's dinner."
A hobbit is a bewitching beast which thrives on fine hospitality. It will say a kind word on the street, cook you dinner, tell an old tale until you're sleepy, then kill you before the morning.
As said before, hobbits are very hygenic. For all of those who are never seen again visiting a hobbit hole create quite a mess with blood, brains, guts and gore. So, a hobbit dedicates and entire storage room to cleaning goods with a certain ginger smell. So, if you ever do dare venture into a hobbit's hole and are fooled by their tricks you will often find that the last thing you smell is sweet sweet ginger. One may say in this instance sickly sweet.
Over all the years the hobbit decieves and brutishly murders often people wonder why they do such a thing. It is simply in their nature. As a creature as demented as that has no motive, only a thirst that will never be quenched. As long as their toe nails curl like dying vines and they live in spick and span states, they'll never change. A leapard can't change its spots and a hobbit can't resist that dangerous luring pleasure of a new death.