Long ago, when the world was young, the pastries of power were baked.

Three glazed doughnuts were given to the elves, tastiest and choosiest of all.

Five chocolate doughnuts were given to the dwarves, largest, most obnoxious, and with the biggest waist size of all others.

And nine, nine jelly doughnuts were given to the race of men, who above all, desired filling.

Together, they were the pastries of power.

But, they had been deceived, for another pastry had been made.

Deep within the ovens of Mount Womb, the dark chef lord, Boron, made a mighty pastry of his own.

Into this low-fat eclair, Boron poured his hate, his malice, and his will to diet.

With this tool, none could stand against him until a last alliance of men and elves marched upon Mount Womb.

As the dark chef prepared to strike him down, Isilfur, son of the king, took up his father's long john and struck the chef lord.

Then, Isilfur had a chance to rid the world of this evil, but the hearts of men are easily corrupted.

However, the the eclair betrayed Isilfur.

The creature, Gollump, found the eclair and it gave him an abnormally long life, however, he spent all of his time stroking the pastry and whispering to "his sweetness."

However, talk arrived of a shadow falling across the land, and the eclair decided to make its move.

However, it was stopped and found by the unlikeliest of creature, a hobbit.

Now, all that can be done is to wait for the eclair to return to its master.