"I say, monsieur, that you have a mind of metal and wheels, and see only the outward workings of the machine, like the scholar who studies the works of Trolquien to discover the plate tectonics that led to the sinking of Mordor, in ignorance or indifference to the superb artistry and deeper intentions with which he writes.  You view an ent as firewood, a balrogue as a renewable energy source, and a literary classic as a means to show yourself cleverer than your adversaries. Thus you are blind to those whom Érou and the Valards have placed above all the ministers and kings of the earth, and veritably an invasion of dragons or trolls would benefit your civilisation enormously."

-- The Count of Monte Fato

On the 2nd of Naréal, 1838, of the calendrier du Shiré, chez Réginard de Pérégrin, a brilliant assemblage of young people await a mysterious stranger who goes under the name of the Count of Monte Fato.  His unusual name, and the air of "canards de Brie" that attaches itself to every account of his exploits, exercise the Saroumandian irony of the young people.  The hobbites were ever apt to laugh fatuously when the Shadow was in their very midst.

Dunadas, in his Causeries, relates how, in 1843, he went boating in the Sea of Middle-earth with the Marquis Thierry-Broucques de Pippesquique, and chanced upon a peculiar gangrel creture with a hissing accent.  The creature led them to a mysterious island named Monte Fato, where trolls abounded and made for good hunting.  Regrettably, the Marquis went insane upon landing on the island and went about calling himself Viceregent of Melcor, and crying that Barad-dour must rise again, twice as high as before, or the Jacobins have won!  In the end, he jumpd into a volcano, saying, "Pierre-Jacques, we meet before Érou!"  This sad loss inspired Dunadas to explore the history of the island, and eventually to produce a tome entitled L'Ouestmarcheillaise, ou Le comte de Monte-Fato.  This work was immediately banned as savouring of le sauronisme, and has only recently been recovered by the present writer through sinister arts, and translated to the best of his ability.

Within minutes of his arrival at the abode of the Viscount de Pérégrin, the Count of Monte Fato subjugated all those brilliant young people who thitherto had been ironising so acerbically in his regard.  Have a care, reader, lest his Ring subjugate you.