As they stared at each other, Hairy heard the doorbell ring. The first of Studly's birthday guests had arrived.

"Hairy Pothead!" said the dwarf, sitting up excitedly as he saw Hairy. He spoke in a high-pitched voice which Hairy was sure would be heard down the hall. "So long have I wanted to meet you sir... so honoured am I..."

"Please be quiet!" hissed Hairy, knowing he would be blamed for any odd events or noises. He began edging along the wall and towards the single chair in his room, eyeing the strange man nervously.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," murmured the little man automatically, wrapping his brown cloak around him closely.

"Who are you?" asked Hairy. "What are you?" He could hear the sounds of Studly loudly counting the presents from his guests, and the bell ringing again as more arrived.

"Dooby sir!" whispered the little man excitedly. "This one is called Dooby. I am but a humble servant, come to warn you sir, to save your holy life. Hairy Pothead must not go to Hempwards!"

Hairy's mind reeled. Hempwards! That was the name on the letter! "What do you know about Hempwards?" he whispered fiercely at the strange little man. "What are you talking about?"

"I come with a warning, dear, Hairy Pothead! There is a plot, Hairy Pothead. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hempwards School. You must not put your sacred self in peril. You are the last of the line, you are too important!"

Hairy shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was turning into a very odd day! He heard more guests arriving, and knew the Straitley living room would soon be full of obnoxious little boys and their twittering mothers, all being ignored by Studly as he tore open his gifts and tossed them into a growing pile. It was a ritual Hairy had gone through every year of his life.

Dooby held his head in his hands and looked downwards. "If only Dooby had been quicker sir," he moaned sadly. "If only I could have reached the mailbox today before the most noble Hairy Pothead, all this could have been prevented. Twice before I came on time, but today I failed!"

"What on earth are you trying to say?" asked Hairy, starting to get annoyed. "And how did you get in here, anyways?"

The little man opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly there was the roar of an engine, followed by a slight pause, and then a loud commotion coming from down the hall. He heard children begin wailing, mothers screeching, and Mr Straitely's voice thundering and above the din.

"Close the door Vanilla! Don't let him in!"

Hairy heard the front door slamming shut, and looked back at Dooby. From the expression of shock on the little man's face, Hairy could see that Dooby was as surprised by the commotion as he was.

BOOM! The whole house shook, and Hairy knew someone had hit the front door harder than it had even been struck before.

BOOM! There was another house-shaking crash, knocking Hairy's small radio alarm clock to the floor, where it began to blink 11:11 repeatedly.

BOOM! A third crash made Hairy stagger and knocked the latch from his closet door, letting it swing open a crack. Hairy ran to the door and pushed it open just enough to peek out. Despite the extraordinary circumstances, he knew Mr Straitely would still yell at him for coming out of the closet with guests in the home.

Through the barely opened closet, Hairy could see straight down the hall and to the front door. He could see his uncle standing in front of it, his body quivering either in rage or in fear. He was yelling commands at anyone who would listen.

"Stop crying! Call the police! Barricade the door! Clear the..."

Norm never got to complete that last sentence, as another loud BOOM took the door right off the hinges, sending it crashing down against him. Norm was knocked off his feet and lay prone on the floor, the door on top of him.

A giant of a man strode through the doorway and stood upon the door, making Uncle Straitely groan in agony beneath. The giant's face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. His eyes, black and bloodshot, glinted under all the hair. His teeth were gripped around a half-smoked, smouldering cigar.

The giant took the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a tremendous cloud of smoke, which seemed to fill the entire house as it flowed from his massive lungs. Hairy heard a wave of coughs and gags coming from Studly's guests in the living room, but to him the smell was pleasant. Beneath the strong scent of the tobacco, He smelled something strange, something that smelled hauntingly, wonderfully familiar.

The giant put the cigar back into his mouth, stepped off the door and strode down the hallway, heading directly for Hairy. He grabbed the closet door in one huge hand and yanked it open, dragging Hairy into the hallway with the force of his pull.

"'ere's 'airy!" said the giant, reaching down and grasping the frail, frightened young boy by both shoulders. Hairy looked into the fierce, wild, shadowy face, and saw that the eyes were crinkled into a smile.

"Yeh look a lot like yer da," said the giant. "But yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

The giant paused to take another huge draw from his cigar. Hairy turned his head and saw that Vanilla and another neighbourhood mother had managed to get the door off of Mr Straitely, who was now pushing himself up off of the floor, huffing and puffing as he rose.

"I demand that you leave at once!" he spluttered. "You are breaking and entering! We will be calling the police!"

"Shu' yer face Strai'ly, yeh grea' buzzkill!" yelled the giant, pointing a thick, hairy finger at the quivering man and snorting smoke out of his nostrils.

Hairy glanced back into his closet, and saw that Dooby had somehow vanished. Then the giant grabbed him by both shoulders again and whisked him right off the floor. Hairy found himself being carried down the hall and into the living room, where a stunned Studly stood silently against the wall, watching his ruined party in shock and agony. Terrified mothers and wailing children rushed out of their path, streaming out the smashed front doorway.

"I did na' mean to bust down yer door like tha'," said the giant to Hairy in a gentler tone, "but Duinthadope said I had ta wai' before comin' ta get yer. Wait until ya had yer final official letter, before I could come and take yer away!"

Hairy noticed that, upon hearing the giant's last words, his Uncle Straitely motioned to Vanilla in the kitchen, signalling her silently to put down the phone, which she had doubtlessly been using to call the local authorities.

Hairy was tossed upon the now empty couch, which creaked and sagged as the giant biker dropped his massive bulk onto it next to him. With one stroke of the giant's muscled arm, the entire pile of Studly's half-opened presents was swept to the floor. Studly ran out of the room, wailing.

"Now 'airy," said the giant, rummaging down deep through the inside pockets on his heavy black coat. "I got summat for yeh 'ere, lemme jus' fine it."

"Who are you?" asked Hairy, unsure of what else to say.

The giant chuckled and reached out to tousle Hairy's dreads, then went back to searching his many pockets as he spoke. "Yeh don' reco'nize me, eh? No surprise, las' time I saw yer, yeh was only a babe! That was a dark day, but these be happier times now."

As he spoke, the giant began pulling items out of his pockets and placing them upon the table by the handful. A small pile began forming, made of many packs of rollies in assorted sizes and brands, two plastic Bic lighters, a Zippo brand lighter embossed with a flaming silver skull, a handful of roaches and cigar butts, assorted loose buds and pieces of hash, numerous small baggies and vials holding powders and liquids, a selection of oddly angular coins, bill-shaped pieces of paper with intricate designs and the word "Hempscript" written on them, a folded pair of scissors, a small wooden cylinder, a glass pipe covered in swirling colours, a wooden pipe, a snowglobe with a castle inside, assorted packs of paper matches with cryptic messages written under their covers, two buttons with "Route 81" written on them, a variety of pills in different shapes and colours, and on it went.

The giant finally pulled out a narrow, elaborately carved wooden box, and placed it on the table in front of them. Then he took a final, huge draw off of the stub of the cigar, and squashed it into a cup he had knocked to the floor.

The giant turned his massive, hairy face towards Hairy. "I am Ruderalis Hogride," he said, exhaling another huge blast of sweet smoke. "Cleaner of tha Bongs and Keeper of tha Gardens at Hempwards."

"What were you smoking?" asked Hairy, pointing at the cigar stub.

Hogride smiled and chuckled slightly. "Yeh never hear o' a blunt? It's marijuana inside a tobacco cigar. Yeh'll learn all abou' 'em at Hempwards."

"Maree-wanna?" asked Hairy blankly. He had never heard this strange word before, but for some reason he liked the way it sounded; it seemed to make his heart beat faster just hearing it. "What's that?"

"Wha's marijuana?" asked the giant, then his broad smile sagged into a frown as he turned his attention fully onto the young boy. "Surely yer jokin' lad, I'm talkin' abou' cannabis, tha 'oly 'erb, tha ganja, tha chronic, tha kind buds!"

"Sorry," said Hairy.

"Sorry?" barked Hogride, turning his head towards the trembling Norm Straitely, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh were in hidin', but I never thought yeh'd be raised wi' no knowin' of the sacred seed! Yeh know anythin' of Hempwards? Did yeh na ever wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"Learned all what?"

"ALL WHAT?" roared Hogride, leaping to his feet. He turned to face Mr Straitely, stabbing with his finger as he yelled. "Do you mean to tell me that this boy - this boy! - knows nothin' about his history, the world's history? He knows nothin' about nothin'?"

"I know some things," said Hairy, a flush rising on his cheeks. "I do read books and watch television sometimes."

Hogride snorted and waved his hand. "About our world, I mean. Yer world, my world, yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Hogride looked as if he was about to burst. He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Yeh never tol' him? Yeh never showed him the letter from Duinthadope? Wha' about the admissions letter?" Mr Straitely glanced involuntarily at his coat pocket, which had the thick piece of paper still sticking up out of it.

Hogride followed Norm's eyes, then leapt forward, seized Norm's arm before he could grab the paper, and with his other hand he reached into the termbling man's pocket and snatched out the letter. Then he released Norm and shoved him backwards.

Hogride turned back to Hairy and tossed the crumpled document onto the table in front of him. "Yeh don' know what yeh are?"

"STOP, I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Norm in a panic.

Hogride ignored Mr Straitely's final, desperate plea. "'airy," he said, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. and looking him in the eyes. "Yer a Weedster!"