There once was a dwarf named Margery. She was a very bitter dwarf who also had an uncannily open mind.

One day, she traveled to an elvish restaurant in the mystical woods. She often feasted here, whether she wanted to or not. It was as if there was something pulling her there like lack of other options or maybe as if her finances were somehow tied to this restaurant alone.

All that to say, Margery knew this restaurant very well and every time the moon turned blue, the elves would have enough money to make a special dish! She fondly remembers a night when there were five new dishes to try! One of which was her absolute favorite, Tricken Stock Rye.

As Margery took her first bite she knew her life would never be the same!

"This is Amazing!" she exclaimed. She quickly prompted that all of her friends also try this new dish that reminded Margery of her mother's very own Tricken stock rye. They all listened to her because they were very loyal friends and because Margery has great taste (and is a bit narcissistic).

The table was soon filled with many happy eaters and a chorus of "mm-mmm's" and "Golly gees!" Margery would go on to thank the kind elf for such a meal and even praised the head elf chef! She then asked for the specialty to be added to the menu permanently and the elves said kindly that they would see what they could do.

As Margery approached the restaurant today, something in her heart died. It had been a year since that magical feast, and not a day went by where she did not politely ask for the dish to be brought back. But still no sign of the precious Tricken Stock Rye.

Margery simply thought that the busy elves had forgotten, so she tried another tactic. Today, she brought her friend Sage who was a wood elf, and great friends with the restaurant elves. Surely, they would have to remember if their dearest friend reminded them!

Not long after they were seated, Sage made a comment to the head elf of the restaurant. "Marigold may we please have Tricken Stock Rye? I know many far and wide enjoyed that dish!" Marigold stopped dead in her tracks. "Tricken Stock Rye will never come back. There was only one who ate it, and it nearly ran us out of buisness." She then glanced at Margery and glared "Wait a minute! Aren't you the one who keeps asking for this dish?"

It shocked Margery that this dish seemed to cause so much trouble, but mostly she was just shocked that Marigold couldn't remember her even though she saw her ever yday when she had gone to speak to her about the Tricken Stock Rye.

"All of my friends enjoyed the dish with me! We all had seconds!" Margery pleaded. Marigold softened her tone a bit seeing as Margery was a soft-spoken dwarf that looked like she might cry under too much pressure. "We threw so much away last time but I will talk to the chef." And with that, Marigold went away into her office leaving the stunned Sage and Margery to their thoughts.

"If only she would have told me that the Tricken Stock Rye was not good for business, I would have stopped asking months ago!" Margery sighed. Sage patted Margery's hand. "I'm sorry my asking didn't help. I should have told you that when my request is not something I truly want with all my heart, Marigold can't grant it for me. Remember the time I got a birthday cake? I had wished for that for months!" Margery sadly nodded.

"I guess you're right. I just wish she would have told me sooner. Communication really would have made things so much easier for her and for me. At least there was a good lesson learned here today." Although she was sad, she knew that the kind restaurant elves were only doing the best they could with their limited funds, so she didn't blame them and would be back for lunch the next day.

And so Margery and Sage left the restaurant and went their separate ways. One to his home in the woods and one in search of the only things she ever wanted: Tricken Stock Rye and a metaphorical story about something that made her bitter in real life.

The End

*The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this publication are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.