There is an annoyance in Bree-town. No longer is there murderers, rapists and thugs, rather, there is lice.
Sidwell had been rubbing at his scalp for four hours straight. It is said that lice prefer clean hair to breed in so that they have a nice environment for housing. He found that strange, since his hair hadn't been washed for nigh on a month, by now. Either way, the plague of scalp-munchers had been hitting him hard.
Five hours passed, and Sidwell remained in the lake by his house. He was now in a perpetual handstand, naked and all, dunking his head in the water every odd minute to potentially drown the creatures in their homes.
The frustration got to him more than any failed order of stout ever did.
