(Before starting out on the Quest from Rivendel, the Fellowship decides to get to know one another. What starts out as innocent fun soon gets way out of hand…)

Gandalf enters a room in Elrond’s house in Rivendell. He paces the shiny floor impatiently, waiting for the rest of the newly formed fellowship to arrive. On his eleventh round, Frodo finally enters, followed faithfully by Sam.
“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes.
“Never mind that, Frodo,” replies Gandalf sympathetically. “Perchance did you happen to run into any others outside?”
“No, but I did see Gimli a while ago heading in this direction.” He chuckled slightly. “Legolas almost ran into him while rounding a corner, and it was funny to see him stop suddenly on his tiptoes like that…”
“Merry and Pippin will turn up, sir,” broke in Sam. ‘They always d…”
He was cut off by the dramatic entrance of the ever-dignified Boromir, who announced his essential presence with an important
“Did I miss anything?”
“Nobody would dare to say anything without you being here,” replied an arrogant Aragorn, stepping into the room.
“And you either, Elessar,” said Legolas, who had arrived silently.
“Now now,” rebuked Gandalf, “Let’s not start off a friendly get-together with harsh words, shall we? Now let’s see…we wait only for…”
“Us!!” shouted the two late hobbits, bouncing in to join the party.
“As I was saying,” continued the indignant wizard, ” we wait only for Gimli.”
“Oh, Gimli’s not here yet?”
“Hush Pippin!”
An awkward silence fell over the room, and suddenly Sam’s face lit up with an idea.
“I know! While we’re waiting, lets play Confessions!!”
“NO!!” yelled all three other hobbits at the same time.
“Pray tell, what is this game called ‘Confessions’,” asked Boromir quizzically.
“Why, it’s quite simple,” answered an innocent Sam, but his master interrupted him.
“You don’t want to know, Boromir.”
“Well, now since you have our curiosity aroused, you might as well tell us all,” came the gruff voice of a dwarf entering the room.
“In Confessions one has to tell one of their deepest secrets,” volunteered Pippin. “If you don’t, Gandalf will turn your wine to mud and your bread to stone.”
“I will not!”
“Yes you will!”
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Peregrin Took!! I will turn you into stone if you ever speak such nonsense again!”
“I’d like to see you tr…”
“PIPPIN!!!” Merry rushed over to his rock-solid friend with a cry. He melted under his touch, and he sprang back to avoid getting mud all over his vest.
“That was fun!” came Pippin’s excited voice from the doorway. “Merry, you should get Gandalf to dissaparate YOU once in a while!”
Frodo sighed in relief and wiped his forehead.
“Perhaps we can play confessions without the mud and stone, Gandalf,” he sighed. “It really is a fun game, although I haven’t played it in years.”
“I have an idea,” spoke Legolas, who was finally getting rid of his yawns. “We’ll play this game, and if someone doesn’t tell the truth, they won’t come.”
“You mean, not come, …at all?” Gasped Sam.
“They won’t come on the quest at all.”
“Very well, it’s settled,” spoke the ranger. “Sam, since you were kind enough to suggest this game, will you begin it?”
“I…uh…well…err…” Sam cleared his throat loudly, and glanced cautiously at Frodo.
“I’m, well, being as I was leaving and all…well, to tell the truth…err…I’m….” he paused, and shut his eyes, the color rising to his plump cheeks. “I’m engaged.”
“What?!”
Sam nodded to Frodo, cheeks blushing even brighter.
“Don’t tell me its Rosie Cotton…”
He nodded again solemnly, and suddenly found everyone had broken from the initial shock wanted to shake his hand.
“Congratulations, Mr. Gamgee,” said Boromir, but Frodo continued to stare.
“You’re ENGAGED and you never told me?”
“I’m sorry, Mister Frodo, but I wanted it to be a surprise when we got back, and I didn’t really want you to be looking out for me to make sure I did…and…”
“Fine, Sam, but I wish you the best,” and he sat down in a huff as everyone returned to their seats. “Merry, you’re next.”
“I am?”
“Yes.”
“But…oh…very well.” He thought for a moment, and then finally declared that he was obsessed with vegetables.
“Vegetables?” questioned Gimli, raising a bushy eyebrow.
“Yes. In fact, I had a carrot once…”
“Perhaps we should get on with the game,” broke in Gandalf suddenly. “Legolas, your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yes. You’ve had three thousand years to obtain at least ONE secret.”
“Very well. Following Merry’s track, I’m obsessed with women.”
They all stared at the warrior elf in disbelief.
“W…wo…women?” Stuttered Pippin.
“Yes, of course! You would think with my movie I had gotten enough fan girls, but no. This happened before my movie. I was in love with an elf princess once. But her heart was already given to a man…” and he glared at Aragorn.
“You loved Arwen?” He said in a low voice.
“Yes, but not anymore. Now I am searching for someone to share the halls of Mirkwood with…someone beautiful…someone….magical……someone with a mirror…” and his voice trailed off and his elven eyes grew distant.
Gandalf nodded in understanding and turned to Aragorn, who took the queue and spoke up.
“I’m still not king.”
“King?” laughed Boromir. “King?! Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king. We have the stewards…”
“Your turn, Boromir,” shot back the king.
“I have no secrets.” He said after a while.
“Oh yeah?” Piped up a small voice, and Pippin appeared holding a small furry object. “If you have no secrets, then what’s this?”
Boromir cleared his throat.
“Cuddles.”
“What?”
“Cuddles. He’s my bear.”
“Oh. I get it. You killed a bear cub and stuffed it and you carry it around as a momentum of your conquest.”
“Well, no, it’s not exactly a momentum I suppose.”
“Don’t tell me you sleep with it,” spoke up Frodo.
“Yes…. NO!!! Not that way!! You’re nasty!!”
“What did I say?” whispered Frodo to Sam.
“I don’t know Mister Frodo,” then suddenly understanding flooded his face and he shook his head.
“Sleep has two meanings.”
Frodo thought for a while…then horror took him and he apologized sincerely.
“I didn’t mean that, kind sir,” he said. “I meant is he a comfort to you…I mean, is he a……pacifier?”
Boromir rose slowly from his chair and shook his finger in Frodo’s face.
“Don’t you dare Mr. Baggins…”
“Shall we continue the game…or perhaps we should obstain for a while for refreshments?” suggested Gandalf.
“I’ll give this hobbit some refreshing…” growled Boromir. “His innocence is insulting!”
“Now now…perhaps if Frodo confesses it will make you feel better.”
“I’m still thinking,” declared the ring bearer. “Pippin can go next.”
“Oh me? While we’re on the subject of love, I have a confession.”
“Oh really Pip?”
“Yes, Merry. I was out walking in the woods once when I ran into a talking tree.”
“A talking tree.”
“Yes!” said an insulted Pippin. “It talked to me, and told me it was an Ent-Wife. Her name was Fimbrethil…oh! How I miss her!” and he fell silent.
The Fellowship stared at Pippin a long while before he finally felt their disbelieving gazes.
“What? She was nice, and she had beautiful eyes.”
“Well…” Gandalf blinked and cleared his throat. “Gimli, your turn.”
“Wait!!” blurted out Merry. “Gandalf, what about YOU?”
“Who…me?”
“Yes, you!”
“Couldn’t be!”
“Then who?”
“Arrrrrgh!! Fine, I’ll go!” Roared the dwarf. “Oh, it’s stupid of me to come, I shouldn’t be here…” he mumbled under his breath. He stood up, and clasped the handle of his axe, presenting an altogether very imposing a war-like figure.
“I’ve…..I’ve……….had…………………..a makeover.”
Seven voices burst out laughing, but Legolas remained grim as ever, failing to conceal a triumphant look on his fair elven face.
‘You’re lying.” He said at last with an air of conquest. “Guess you can’t come on the quest after all. Oh, too bad.”
“I’M NOT LYING!!” He roared. “I will spare you the details, but let me tell you I’ve never been more miserable in my life!”
The fated room shook with laughter, and the poor Gimli lost his temper and swung his axe at the nearest fellowship member, who just happened to be the unfortunate elf. Legolas whipped out his bone-handled knives with a flourish and turned aside the blade just as it came down.
“Legolas! Gimli! That’s quite enough, thank you! Do I have to separate you two?” Gandalf towered above the pair and Legolas shrugged away his weapons, pretending to act calm and in control. The dwarf threw his axe in the corner and sat down noisily.
“Is anyone left?” Asked Pippin. “Besides you?”
“Is there?”
There was no answer, so the Grey wizard cleared his throat.
“I have a phone book,” he began, ” And in it is the telephone number of the Balrog.”
“The Balrog of Moria?” asked Legolas.
“Don’t you bring Moria into this!” shouted Gimli.
“I also have the last bottle of bleach left in Middle-Earth. Sorry Legolas.”
“Oh don’t mention it. As long as you leave me the special shampoos and hair-care products.”
“Oh, sorry big scary elf warrior,” spoke up a feeble Sam. “I accidentally used up the last of you conditioner when I mistook it for the bubble bath.”
“Why you stupid, fat hobbit!” Seethed the elf, reaching for him, but Sam was saved at last by Frodo.
“Wait!” he shouted. “I haven’t gone yet!”
“We know you haven’t gone yet,” replied Pippin. “That’s why we’re all still here in Rivendell.”
“No, Pip! I mean I haven’t confessed yet.”
“Well, we’re waiting,” said Boromir.
“I…well, I know this will come as a big shock to you all, but…I lost the ring.”
Gandalf leapt to his feet and grabbed the frightened hobbit by his coat.
“What do you mean you LOST the One Ri…no you didn’t!! It’s right there around your neck!”
There was a relieved silence, and then Legolas, always thoughtful of the rules, put his two bits in.
“You lied.”
Frodo looked up in shock.
“I did,” he realized. “Oops.” He thought for a minute, then said “Well, I guess I do have a secret or two to tell, if I can make up for my lie that way.”
“Proceed.”
He sighed, and said
“I bite my nails, and I snore. There.”
Sam sighed.
‘Tell us something we don’t know.”
“Fine. I’m obsessed with bright shiny objects.” He noticed the exasperated looks of his friends, and sighed.
“Argh. I guess I can’t fool you guys. But now I’ve told you three things, and you’ve only told me one, so I think we’re even.”
“Very well, Frodo,” said Gandalf, and he turned to the entire fellowship. “I hope this evening has been enlightening for all of us. Making new friends, hopefully not enemies…(here he glanced at Legolas and Gimli, and then at Boromir and Frodo). We leave Rivendell tomorrow. Get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow…Mordor, and then…Middle-Earth!”