Disclaimer- I own nothing of Tolkien’s. Pfft.

The Infamous Council of Elrond
The Council Begins

Elrond: Ok, everyone here? Ok, the council shall begin. We have gathered here today to–

Sam” *pokes head out of a bush behind Frodo* guard Mr.Frodo from using his precious!

Elrond: *shoots his infamous death frown* No, now let me say this again. We have gathered here today to–

Pippin: *from behind a pillar* Buy and drink some pints!

Elrond: No! We have gathered here today to discuss–

Merry: *from behind another pillar* The rise on prices on pipeweed!

Elrond: NO! Glorfindel, would please tie the two annoying identical hobbits in a sack and send them home?

Figwit: *stares*

Merry and Pippin: You can’t catch use, we’re the gingerbread men!

Merry to Pippin: Wait, we aren’t made of gingerbread.

Pippin: Never mind that! Run!

*Glorfindel chases the hobbits and run out of sight*

Elrond: We have gathered here today to discuss the issue of some tacky jewelry. Bring forth the tacky… what ever it is!

*Sam walks up and places a rusty pot on the platform.*

Elrond: Not that, you idiot! You, Baggins, yes you. Your jewelry please.

Figwit: *stares*

*Crickets chirp. The Council is silent. Snoring is heard.*

Sam: Mr.Frodo?

Frodo: *snore* What the? *Council stares at him.*

Frodo: Oh, fine. *Walks up and places a ring into Sam’s pot.*

Boromir: Oh My God! Isildur’s Bane! Or what ever my crazy father desires so much that he sends his older son to go and steal it from a midget and kill myself by a bunch of rampaging orcs! *Pauses and turns green* Excuse me! *runs off*

Elrond: The DOOM of our time. *places emphasis on the word doom and smirks*

Gandalf: So, that is why we are here? To discuss an issue of tacky jewelry?

Elrond: *ignores Gandalf* I am sure everyone knows about the One Ring and Isildur? Well, long ago, Isildur cut the ring from Sauron’s hand and keeps it, not matter how hard I tried to dissuade him.

Gandalf: So why didn’t you just shove him in? He was going to be killed anyway.

Elrond: I… *stares blankly* I…I…Oh fine! It was too prettiful! *breaks out sobbing*

*Boromir walks in, still green, and passes the pot*

Boromir: Oh my god! *makes mad grabbing motions with his hands at the ring. Ten Mirkwood elves restrain him and manages to tie him to his chair.*

Boromir: Mine, mine! I tell you, it’s mine! It’s a gift to the foes of Mordor! It shouldn’t be! It should be mine! Mine! Give it to me!

Aragorn: Shut up!

Boromir: And why would a ranger tell me to shut up?

Legolas: *flicks hair* Because I’m the prettiest!

Peter: Psst! Read the script you idiot!

Legolas: Oh. *scans the script page* Because that dirty man with the greasy hair is the heir of Isildur?

Boromir: *stops struggling* So this is Isildur’s heir. Oh. *shuts up*

Elrond: *sob* It was too prettiful!

Random Dwarf: Drink break!

Whole Council: Yes!

Figwit: *stares*

Pippin: Run–Wait, drink break! Break out the ale!

Elrond: *sob*

Some random dwarf: This part of the council ends here. The next part will resume when everyone is drunk, when Elrond stops bawling, when Boromir calms down, when someone shoves Legolas into the mud, when Frodo wakes up, when Merry and Pippin starts dancing on a table, when Figwit finally talks, or when the author gets enough reviews. Good day!

Boromir: Stop that–Your ale getting up my nose–pfft—what the? *starts coughing when some random elf pours two mugs of ale on his head.*