They are stinky!
"Oh yes," Fingon agreed, but he was agreeing in fluently spoken french, and he eyed his staff nearby. Even the rapier at his side sort of had a very compelling twinkle to the metal like it was just rarin' to be used. After it's owner got tired of the staff and preferred a more direct approach. Fingon didn't like guns, but cutlery? And even cutlery on STICKS? He was rather fond of. "Let us go forth, and rid some rich travelers of their coinpurses!"
This can't end well. He'd even forgotten all about the costume contest, because Fingon has that gleam in his eyes, and that gleam always spells dangerous trouble times of fun and excitements.
"Let us go forth, my beloved! Certainly there is many a thoroughfare for us to plunder!"
If they end up on the freeway, then laughing muchly of the ass falling off, shalt happen.