The Council of Elrond
The Council of Elrond
*Curtains begin to open and ‘Hakuna Matata’ starts to play in the background.*
Evil Narrator: Wait a minute! That’s not the right one!!
*Curtains close and sounds of tapes changing can be heard. ‘Council of Elrond’ plays as the curtains open again. Enter scene. Council Chamber. Council sits in a semi circle, all facing a standing Elrond Half-Elvin, who is looking far too serious. Also, a Gaffer (no relation to Sam), stands near Elrond with a microphone.*
Evil Narrator: Welcome to Earth-In-The-Center! The world’s greatest amusement park!
*Council looks around in fear at the scary, evil Voice. Elrond stands and hesitates before starting to speak.*
Elrond: People we don’t know from places far away, folks we’ve known for too long. You come here to answer the long-distance call of Mordor. Earth-In-The-Center is tittering on the edge of a really big boo-boo. Nobody can hide from it. You must get together or you will fall down. Each of you weird guys are tied up to this fate, this individual fatality.
*Elrond looks to Frodo*
Elrond Cont.: Cough up the Ring, Shorty.
Evil Narrator: He exclaimed with great relish.
Frodo: *Glares at Elrond quite fiercely before placing the Ring on the pedestal and timidly walking back to his seat while looking around in fear for the Voice.*
*A small wave of barely hushed whispers pass through the Council. Gaffer makes a quick dash to get between Boromir and Aragorn. A light falls on the Ring and (enter some sort of girly/childish music here) begins to play.*
Evil Narrator: Not again!
*Sounds of tapes being switched…again. Council members roll their eyes or sigh in exasperation. The ‘Jaws’ theme music suddenly starts to play. A remote controlled shark fin drives past Council, causing Frodo to pull his feet up in terror.*
Some-Nameless-Person-Near-Boromir: The boo-boo of Man.
Boromir: So true, it is.
*Council looks at Boromir with confused expression as he stands to look important.*
Evil Narrator: The mighty Boromir stands to speak so boldly.
*Boromir smirks and Aragorn snorts*
Boromir: A gift it is, yes, gift to Mordor’s enemies. Use this Ring, why not? Long, my father, has kept Mordor away from Gondor. Blood of our people has safe kept your lands. Give Gondor enemy weapon. Use it against him we will!
*Council becomes more confused*
Aragorn: You can’t hold onto it, no person can! That metal thing harkens to that Scary Eyeball-Thing only. It has no other scoutmaster!
Boromir: Know what of this, Ranger?
*Legolas, the blonde Elvish Prince from WirtMood, takes out a breath sprayer and, while trying to freshen his breath, sprays the Nameless-Elf-By-Him, all while the Gaffer moves by him.. He then stands, after putting away the breath sprayer, and tosses his hair.*
Legolas: This ain’t just a Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, called Estel, will later be known by some Elvish name, and also called The-Man-With-Too-Many-Names.
*Gaffer runs back to Boromir, starting to look tired.*
Boromir: Aragorn? Isildur’s brat this is?
*Gaffer runs back to Legolas*
Legolas: And claimer of the Big Seat of Gondor.
*Gaffer runs back…again…this time to Aragorn, breathing heavily.*
Aragorn: Sit down and shut up, Legolas.
Nameless-Elf-By-Aragorn: *In a whispered tone* You’re supposed to say that last bit in Elvish.
Aragorn: I am??
*Aragorn, along with several other Council members, take Scripts from under their chairs and leaf through them for a moment.*
All-Who-Have-Scripts: Yes. He does, he does.
Aragorn: AHEM! Havo dad, Legolas.
*Legolas sits down, tossing his hair…again. The Gaffer has paused halfway between Legolas and Aragorn, one foot poised to move forward before he turns around and moves to Boromir.*
Boromir: No king Gondor has. No king Gondor needs.
Evil Narrator: …Such nobility… *sigh*
*Boromir sits back down.*
*Gaffer moves quickly to Gandalf and Frodo, barely missing the heads of Legolas and a few Nameless-Elves.*
Gandalf: The scraggly-haired lass is right. We cannot weld it.
*Aragorn makes a hurt expression while Boromir sniggers.*
Frodo: That’s ‘wield’, Gandalf…and Aragorn is a guy.
Gandalf: Whatever, Dodo.
*Gaffer quickly moves to Elrond, looking slightly afraid of the Big-Serious-Elf-Lord.*
Elrond: You’ve only one option. That circular thing has to be broken.
*Gaffer starts to move to Gimli, who doesn’t’ need a microphone when he yells.*
*Gimli stands up suddenly, nearly knocking the Gaffer down, takes an axe from out of nowhere, tries to smash the Ring with axe, axe goes………BOOM!! Gaffer moves back to Elrond, looking more afraid than before.*
Evil Narrator: Ooooooh! Fireworks!!!
Elrond: That band can’t be broken, Gimli, brat of Gloin, by any axe, bow, sword, or spoon we have here. The circlet has gotta be taken to the boiler room of Hill Peril. The loop was copyrighted in the furnace of Hill Peril and only there can it be plagiarized. It has to be lugged deep into the land of Moldy and flung back into the dirty dish water from whence it came! One of you poor suckers — saps — souls must do this.
*Gaffer quickly ran back to Boromir.*
Boromir: In Mordor one does not walk. More than Orcs black gates guard. Sleep not the evil there, and ever watchful is the Scary Eyeball. Barren wasteland it is, fire and ash is riddled there, yes! Poisonous fume is air yo breathe. Could not do this with ten thousand men even. Folly it is.
Evil Narrator: He’s so smart.
*Legolas stands back up and tosses his hair…yet AGAIN. And the Gaffer runs to his side, starting to look winded…again.*
Legolas: Have you heard nothin’ Lord Elrond said?! That circle must be disposed of.
*The Gaffer, completely ignoring the angering Dwarf Gimli, moves over to Boromir to save breath*
*Boromir stands, startling the Gaffer, who was starting to nod off*
Boromir: If fail we do, then what? Happens what if Scary Eyeball gets back what is his, HMM?!?
Gimli: DEAD! HANDS! ……ELF!!!
Evil Narrator: Fight! Fight! Fight!!
*Gimli stands, looking slightly overheated from saying so much, and the other Elves, Dwarves, and Men stand. Everyone, except Frodo and the Gaffer (who is now trying to figure out who to take the microphone to), start bickering. The Gaffer suddenly moves near Frodo.*
Frodo: I’ll lug it! I will lug it!!
*Everyone shuts up and looks at Frodo.*
Frodo Cont.: I will take the finger ornament to Hill Peril………though I don’t know the route.
Gandalf: *who is somehow close enough to Frodo that the Gaffer doesn’t have to move.* I will help you bare this burger, Dodo Gabbins. As gong as it is yours to beer.
Frodo: Um……Gandalf? Oh, never mind! You never listen to us Short People anyway.
*Gaffer pushes through the Mixed-People and gets near Aragorn.*
Aragorn: By my life or death, I can protect you, I will. *Aragorn gets up, followed by the Gaffer, moves over to Frodo and kneels beside Frodo.* You have my sword………Wait a minute! I don’t wanna die!! And I don’t wanna give you my sword either! I like that sword!
*Aragorn runs to seat, where his sword hangs on the back of his chair. He takes up the sword and cradles it, seemingly crooning to it.*
*Boromir looks up sharply and suspiciously*
Aragorn: Oh…okay. As long as I get to keep my sword, I’m happy.
*Aragorn pats his sword but does put it down. Legolas then moves near Frodo and Aragorn, allowing the Gaffer to stay in place.*
Legolas: Well, now that that is over with, we can get to my line! AHEM!! *Very serious like* And you have my bow…but not for keeps.
*Moves to stand by Legolas, Aragorn and Frodo.*
Boromir: Fate of us all carry you, little one. If will of Council this is indeed, see it done Gondor will then.
*Boromir moves to Frodo as well when Sam suddenly runs in from…somewhere, casting the Gaffer a strange look.*
Sam: Hey! Mr. Frodo’s not goin’ anywhere without me! ……Anyone want a tater?
*Sam takes a potato from his pocket and offers it around.*
Elrond: No, thank you. And it is nearly impossible to keep you two apart, even in the extreme chance that he is beckoned to a private meeting thing, and your invitation gets lost in the mail.
*Merry and Pippin suddenly come out of……nowhere. Merry bumps into the Gaffer and falls over.*
Merry: Oi!! *Stands up and dusts himself off.* We’re tagging along too! You’d have to send us home hog-tied in a burlap bag to slow us down.
Pippin: Besides, you gotta have Short People of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing.
Merry: That means you’re out of the race, Pip.
Pippin: What do you mean?! My I.Q. is over 120!
Elrond: *Ignoring the arguing Merry and Pippin. * Nine club members……Let it be so! You shall be the Fellowship of the Round Metal Thingy.
Pippin: Great! ……Where are we going?
Evil Narrator: And then there was…cake!!
*Happy cheers rise up from Council members and the Gaffer before curtain falls.*
Pippin: Merry…the ceiling is talking.
Evil Narrator: Muwahahahahaha!!