A/N: I just had fun with this. In real life, I would never act like this.

I would be way worse.
Also, several of these ideas were my mom’s.
And I apologize to the poor characters, to whom I show no mercy. Okay, let’s go!

When Loslote entered the Double Take film studio, everyone in it turned to glare at her. The director pointed wordlessly at the clock, which showed that they were supposed to start filming half an hour ago.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone!” Loslote crowed, and turned to face the cameras.

“Hi, I’m Loslote, and welcome to the internationally famous reality show, Double Take! Hang on a sec.” She turned to her assistant, who whispered something to her. “According to Suzy, here, Legal is insisting that I include a disclaimer. I own none of the characters shown here.”

The assistant said, “My name’s not Suzy.”

“Quiet, Suzy. Welcome to Double Take, where eleven contestants do whatever I tell them to so that they have a chance to win! Now it’s time to meet the contestants! Contestant Number One hails from… um… I’m actually not sure where he lives. Never mind; meet: Gandalf!”

Gandalf appeared, sporting a white sportcoat. The live studio audience clapped halfheartedly.

Loslote waved impatiently at the wizard. “Go sit down, Gandalf. I want to introduce Contestant Number Two! All the way from Lothlorien, please welcome: Haldir!”

There was scattered clapping from the audience.

“Hey, Loslote. How are you today?” Haldir asked.

Loslote went slightly limp. “Ooh… very good… hehhehhehheh.”

While writing in her clipboard, the assistant muttered, “I’m beginning to realize why so many guys were invited…”

“Be quiet, Suzy,” Loslote snapped.

“My name’s Ellen!”

“Incidentally, Haldir, are you single?”

“Go sit down, Haldir,” Ellen interrupted. “Next contestant?”

“Fine,” Loslote grumped. “Contestant Number Three, from The Shire: Pippin.”

Pippin skipped in. “Hi Los–oh look! A butterfly!”

“Moving on. Please welcome, from Rohan, Eowyn!”

Eowyn entered, looking around in confusion. “I thought I was going shopping.”

“Contestant Number Five, King of Gondor and of Arnor, everyone please welcome, Elessar, also known as Strider, Aragorn, Telcontar, Dunadan, and, to one confused hobbit in Bree, Eric!” Loslote said.

Crickets chirped.

“I said: Meet Aragorn!”

Now you could hear cows.

“Where is Aragorn?” Loslote hissed.

“He couldn’t be here today. Something about a horde of Orcs kidnapping his son.”

“Dang.”

“I know.”

“But I wanted eleven.”

“I can get you Faramir.”

“I don’t want Faramir.”

“Your call.”

“Okay… Please welcome the Steward of Gondor: Faramir — does he have a last name?”

“Son of Denethor, I suppose.”

“Too long: Faramir!”

“What’s going on?!” Faramir yelped. “I was just kidnapped out of a sound sleep!”

“Have a seat. Catch up with the Mrs.”

“Faramir! I saved your life!” Pippin said.

“Yes, thank you,” Faramir said. “Again.”

“Contestant Number Five: Frodo. Thanks for coming, Frodo.”

“As if he had a choice,” Ellen muttered into her clipboard.

“How true, Suzy!”

“Ellen.”

Frodo muttered, “There’s an audience? You didn’t say anything about–”

“Metal chairs,” Loslote said, pointing. “And all the way from Mirkwood: Legolas!”

An almighty cheer came from the fangirls. Frodo covered his ears.

“There’s fangirls? You didn’t say anything about–”

“Can I call you Leggie?”

Legolas blinked. “Please don’t.”

“Whatever you say, Leggie. And now, representing Bree: Barliman Butterbur!”

“That’s right! At your service! Say, aren’t you hobbits from the Shire? Now what does that remind me of?”

“Hey Barliman,” Gandalf said. “Did you remember to deliver that message I gave you?”

“What message–”

“Gotcha!”

“Oh, ho ho, good one, Gandalf!”

Loslote sighed. “Moving right along! Contestant Number Nine from Rivendell: the one, the only, the potentially reborn: Glorfindel!”

Someone coughed as Glorfindel bowed majestically.

“Next up, our Tenth Contestant: Arwen Undomiel!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Glorfindel moaned.

Arwen appeared, looking Arwenish. She issued a Miss-Elvish type wave.

“And now, our eleventh and final contestant, from the Old Forest, it’s Tom Bombadil!”

The audience clapped politely as the final contestant sat down.

“Any questions?” Loslote asked.

“Yeah,” Faramir said. “What am I doing here?”

Loslote laughed pleasantly. “So, none?”

“Can I quit?” Faramir asked.

“Last chance…”

“What do we win?” Legolas asked.

“So glad you asked,” Loslote said. “Bragging rights.”

“Bragging rights? What kind of a prize is that?” Haldir asked.

“Budget cuts. You know how it is.”

Pippin said, “Not even pipeweed?”

Loslote smiled at the camera and said, “So, don’t forget to tune in tomorrow, when our contestants face The First Challenge!”

“I’ll give the winner a kiss,” someone screamed. “As long as it’s Legolas!”

The camera panned out of the chaos that ensued.