Book One: The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter 1
The Journey Begins

Frodo was a hobbit. He was a girly hobbit, but a hobbit. He lived in Bag End, Bagshot Row in Hobbiton. It was a fine afternoon, and Frodo, being rather lazy, instead of doing his chores, was sitting in the shade reading a book.
He eventually realized that the birds had stopped singing, and there was dead silence in the world. He looked back at the page of his book, which was a Sherlock Holmes mystery book, and was rather creeped.
Then, a wagon with an old man pulled up on the lane next to where Frodo was sitting. Frodo bounded up to get a better look at the man. The guy turned to face him.
“Hullo, Frodo my lad!” cried the old man.
“Gandalf!” said Frodo in shock, “What are you doing here?”
“Ho, well, I was passing through for your uncle’s birthday,” he replied. “Also, I was robbed of my favorite wagon, and this one is quite damaged, so I also stopped to have it fixed.”
“Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead,” volunteered Frodo bravely.
Gandalf shot him a disgusted look and slapped the horse’s behind to get him moving.
Frodo shrugged and went back to his book.
Later that evening Bilbo’s party began. Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam were all huddled together whispering.
“Gandalf’s up to something; I can feel it in the earth; I can smell it in the air. All that one was is lost. For none now live who remember it,” spoke Frodo.
“I agree. Why else would he come here if there weren’t a significant rationale?” agreed Sam.
“What on earth is a rationale?” asked Pippin.
“Uh, actually I think it means ‘purpose’,” replied Sam.
“SHUDDUP!” hissed Merry, “you don’t want Gandy ‘t hear us!”
Frodo scooted back his metal foldout chair and grabbed a doughnut. After scarfing the entire pastry, he washed it down with a cool mug of Fruitopia.
“You should count you carbs Frodo milad,” scolded Gandalf strolling over to the gang.
Pippin rolled his eyes.
“I SAW THAT, MAGGOT!” Gandalf bellowed, slapping poor Pippin’s head.
Pippin thunked his head into a nearby ice bucket.
“I think I’ll have another ale,” said Sam starting to rise.
Gandalf gave him a sound shove back to his chair.
Sam rubbed his behind.
“Now listen up Maggots,” he seized Pippin by the scruff of the neck, and yanked him out of the ice.
Pip’s head was completely blue, and his teeth were chattering. Gandalf soon slapped that out of him.
“Now,” he spoke, puffing on his pipe, “there is a serious matter at hand that needs to come to attention.”
Frodo nudged Merry with his elbow.
“IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION FOR A LEAST FIVE SECONDS WITHOUT BEING RUDELY ITNTERRUPTED?” screamed Gandalf in Frodo’s face.
Frodo numbly shook his head.
“Good. Now, back to business. As I have been trying to say, Frodo is inheriting Bag End and all of Bilbo’s possessions,” Gandalf said calmly.
“I don’t want any of his crummy old junk!” cried Frodo.
“I HAVE JUST ABOUT HAD IT WITH YOU MISTER!” yelled Gandalf.
Frodo slunk back to his seat and pouted a pouty pout.
“Anyway, this means that you also inherit his old ring. A ring of great importance. This ring is the One Ring, forged by Sauron himself in the fires of Mt. Doom. The Ring is altogether evil!”
Frodo glanced expectantly at Gandalf for him to carry on.
Gandalf whiffed his pipe again, and continued. “You must take the Ring and go with it into the fires of the Black Land of…hmmmm. This might be too complicated for a dope like you. In other words, you are going to take the ring to Rivendell, and there we will decide what to do with it.”
Frodo appeared befuddled.
“Auuuggghhh! Moron! Idiot! How shall I ever explain this to you! Uhhhhhhmmmm? Ah, yes! FRODO!”
Frodo, who had been quietly dozing off, leaped to attention. “HOO, HAA, what?”
“Yes, my friend, YOU. You are taking Bilbo’s ring to Rivendell. Tomorrow. Got it?” asked Gandalf.
“What other duty would you have me do my lord?” mumbled Frodo sleepily.
“Draw out Sauron’s armies; empty his lands,” replied Gandalf sarcastically.
The next morning, Gandalf woke them. “It is time, Frodo.”
Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam started out on their quest. They each had a luggage pack to carry, and Frodo was whining because he thought that he was carrying more than the rest.. Before they had left, Gandalf spoke a few words of comfort.
“So Maggots, if you see some black dudes on black horses, know that they want the ring and will kill you or worse to get it. But DO NOT GIVE IT TO THEM.”
“Why?” asked Frodo.
“BECAUSE, if they get it, they will take it to
Sauron. And if Sauron gets it, he will destroy the world,” replied Gandalf.
“Oh,” answered Frodo. He started off in the wrong direction.
Gandalf slapped his forehead. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Show me the way?” said Frodo innocently hopeful.
Gandalf decided it would be best if he just left the four hobbits on their own. He slapped his horse’s behind, and galloped off to meet with Saruman.
Frodo said sadly, “He leaves because there is no
hope.”
“He leaves because he must,” responded Pippin.
“Is there any hope, for Frodo and Sam?” asked Merry.
Pip replied, “There never was much hope, just a fool’s hope.”
“I hope we can find a tavern along the way,” said
Frodo hopefully.
“No hope of that,” objected Sam.
“You’re hopeless,” said Pippin.
That night they slept beneath the boughs of the willow trees, and it was rather chilly. Sam was additionally comfortable that night, for he had brought a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow along in his pack. These were not his for very long, for the others absconded with them soon after.
A few mornings later, the hobbits were quarreling about who should get the last tomato, when they heard an unearthly scream. A second later, a Black Rider rode into the midst of the clearing. Sam shook his skewer at it and howled, “No! You shan’t have it either!” The rider was quite flummoxed, and kept on wheeling his horse around, this way and that way, until Frodo felt somewhat sorry for the beast.

Meanwhile, Gandalf’s mind was on anything but the matter before him as he rode to Isengard seeking Saruman’s counsel. He was actually thinking about the best way to dip strawberries into chocolate. ‘Do you use tongs, or do hold them by the leaves?’ He was so deep in thought that he nearly crashed into a tree and a lamppost, but as Gandalf usually does, he came out all right.
Saruman was watching all this from Isengard and thought about what a klutz Gandalf was.
Gandalf rode up to the tower, sprang off his horse and started toward Isengard. His horse whinnied and stamped his hooves. Annoyed, Gandalf threw a lump of sugar at it. He then turned back to his path of destiny.
The dark door opened, and Saruman the White started down the long flight of steps. However, he stumbled, and he went bumpety-bump down for his cloak was so long.
When he finally hit the bottom, he was rather battered and bruised, but it was his pride that was hurt most of all.
Gandalf was giggling and snickering and it gradually became right-out laughing.
Saruman slowly rose with a look of malice on his face. “Why hello Gandalf my old friend,” he growled.
“Tell me ‘Friend’ when did Saruman the Wise abandon Reason for Madness?” indicted Gandalf.
“Um, actually it was on the twenty sixth exactly…..uhmm, nine days ago.” he retorted, counting on his fingers.
Gandalf was rather irritated. “Don’t play Coy with me, foul FIEND!”
Saruman sat down on a stone, placed his head in his hands, and let out a long sigh.
Gandalf hopped around, gloating and hovering over poor Saruman. “You’ll never amount to anything, you never have, never will…..you have appalling decorating taste,……you’re a couch potato……..you, you, you….”
“Just leave me alone, okay?” sobbed Saruman. I know I have a large nose and girly fingernails, but that’s no reason to dislike me,” he wailed.
“Large? Talkin’ ’bout LARGE? You don’t have a nose; you have a BEAK!” ridiculed Gandalf mercilessly.
Saruman just sobbed.
Gandalf realized that staying at Isengard was pointless, and he realized that he must join Frodo at the council of Elrond.
The four hobbits managed to get away from the rider, and made to a safe hideaway. Later that morning, Gandalf met them while they were frying second breakfast over a blazing fire. Frodo punched Merry in the gut when he tried to steal Frodo’s last slice of honey-cured ham. Frodo pummeled Merry in return. Then Pippin socked Sam. “What?” cried Sam keeling over. Pip shrugged. Then Frodo punched Pippin, and Sam thumped Merry on the skull. Merry whacked Pippin, Sam hit Frodo, and Pippin stroked Merry a blow. By the end of the brawl, the hobbits were battered and bruised, and Pippin was even in tears.
“What were we fighting about, anyhoo?” asked Sam.
The three shrugged and sighed.
Then, Gandalf galloped into the circle of hobbits, and whisked the portion of meat out of Merry’s greedy hands.
The next morning they were on their way to
Bree.
“I think we’re heading for the prancing pony,” said Frodo smugly glancing at Merry.
“Is it a good place for beer and crumb cake?” asked Sam.
“Oh yes. It’s a quality establishment. I hear the staff are very good,” answered Pippin wisely.
As they were walking down the trail, Pippin cried out, “Mushrooms!” All the hobbits rushed to the mushrooms and started stuffing them into a bag. Frodo got an uneasy feeling that someone was coming down the road. Then suddenly three people bounded out. One was an elf, on was a dwarf, and the other was a wimp. His name was Aragorn, and he was the lost king of Gondor and the heir to Isildur.
Legolas was complaining that all this waiting was mussing his hair. As a gust of wind blew, it carried with it one of his shiny blonde hairs. He grabbed it and carefully pushed back into place.
Frodo stared in total befuddlement.
Merry, Pippin, and Sam paid no attention to them whatsoever.
“Hi” said Gimli the Dwarf.
“Hello, Gimli my old Friend,” greeted Gandalf.
Aragorn just sniffled.
Legolas smoothed his hair. Gimli cuffed him on the ear.
Gandalf said, “These fine gentlemen are going to join us on our quest. CAN WE FIX IT?”
“YES WE CAN!” shouted the three.
Finally, the hobbits were done, and they were on their way. Just then, someone in a black hood was standing across the path.
It hissed, “Ssssshire, Bagginsssss!”
“Present!” yelled Frodo bounding up.
“Noooo, not pressssent, Bagginssssss, “it replied stupidly.
“EEEEEEEEKKKKKK!!!” squealed Aragorn cowering into a little ball.
“Hellloooo? Uh, Mr. Nightingale, I’m right here!” said Frodo now quite exasperated. The black widow galloped right at Frodo. Frodo and the rest of the troop dove into a marsh called Midgewater to hide from the black riders. They heard a splish, splosh like a horse with a black rider on it coming through a marsh.
‘Maybe,’ thought Aragorn, ‘maybe it is!’ and he collapsed from pure fear.
“Shhh!” hissed Frodo. “He’ll find me, he’ll seeeee!”
“Shaddap, maggot!” whispered Gandalf. They waited there for a long time and then continued on to Bree.
At the sign of the Prancing Pony they all breathed a sigh of relief,”Ahhhhhhhhh.” Then Gandalf sent the hobbits in to get a table while they all waited. The hobbits went to the counter and waited for the Innkeeper.
“Why good evening little masters, what may I be doing for you? Barliman’s the name. If you’re looking for some nice hobbit sized rooms then I’ve got some down in the west wing; with those round windows and all. If you want some malt beer, roaring fires, and red meat off the bone then we’ve got that as well. Come now, answer quick! I haven’t got all day!”
Frodo replied, “Yes, actually we’d like both, but also reserve four man sized rooms for our friends. Oh, and by the way we are here to see Gandalf. Can you tell him we’ve arrived?”
“Gandalf? Gandalf?…. Oh yes! Elderly chap, long beard, pointy hat? Not seen ’em in months.” Frodo was not greatly disappointed, but the fates were not going to be good for long, for at that moment Gandalf came in looking for them.
“You maggots! Where have you been? The fellowship has been waiting for half an hour!”
“Oops, I forgot. There now, you see? I forgot that this version is different than the normal one,” Frodo replied shakily. They all made their way into their rooms and slept peacefully, except for when the riders burst into the inn across the street, and destroyed the place.
“Why don’t they just look in this inn?” asked Pippin sensibly.
“For a good reason, and the reason is good and there is good in the reason,” replied Gandalf.

Chapter 2: El Ringwraiths

The next day the came to this place called Weathertop. They made camp on top of it and hoped the Blackboards wouldn’t be able to see them. All the men went with Aragorn to scout out the area. The hobbits were left with only dinky swords for protection. Then there was a ghastly shriek and some shadows shaped like men glided up the hill. The hobbits scampered up to the highest point of the ancient ruin.

They gathered back to back, as the Riders drew out their swords.
“Adiiiossss, mi amiiiigooosss,” shrieked the blacky. Sam ran, yelling at them, but they pushed him aside. Merry and Pippin tried to ward them off, but to no avail. Frodo backed up and being Frodo he fell down. He clutched for the ring and slipped it on. The Witch King of Angmar came up to him and tried to stab him with the lollipop he had been sucking on, but only succeeded in getting tangled up in Frodo’s hair. He finally remembered his knife, and stabbed him in the shoulder. Then Gandalf came and slashed at them with his sword.
Sam crouched next to Frodo, who said, “I can see the shire, Sam. The Brandywine River, Gandalf’s fireworks, Bag End, the lights, and the party tree.”
“Waiiiiiiit a minute!” shrieked Sam, “you’re not supposed to say that until the end of the movie!”
Frodo sat up. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Okay. We must be moving on!” said Gandalf.
“I will get some kingsfoil to put on the wound. In the meantime you all decide where we should go from here,” Aragorn ambled down from Weathertop in search of kingsfoil.
“Well where should we go?” asked Legolas globbing moisturizing cream on his hair.
“What does you heart tell you?” said Gimli.
“I heard that!” came a faint voice from down below. The next day Frodo was feeling worse by the second.
“We must get him to Rivendell, immediately!” screamed Gandalf, booting them down the hill. That night, they stopped at a mini mart for grub and refreshment. Frodo was in a delirium, and was walking around the store swaying and singing to himself. “Ohhh….my darlin’….my…..Clementine.. was lost…..gone….forever…sorry…….” he staggered. The clerk, who was a Hispanic dude with dreadlocks, and about five hundred gazillion tattoos, and six teeth missing was watching him in utter astonishment. But when Froder stole a Fruitopia, he was laughing no more. As they trudged down the lonely path, Arwen came bounding out of the woods on a horse, grabbed Frodo and galloped away blowing Aragorn a kiss.
Aragorn waved, “Bye sweetie!”
“Heyyyyyyyy!” whined Legolas, “She mussed my hair!” And he whipped out a travel-sized can of hair spray, and a dainty mirror. He also grabbed a tiny comb and carefully smoothed down his hair and then sprayed the entire can of spray onto it. By the time everyone stopped hacking and coughing Gandalf had already mounted his horse and was now shouting, “Let’s move it along maggots! We must get to Rivendell!” Meanwhile, Frodo and Arwen were riding full speed toward Rivendell with nine black riders hot on their heels. Arwen kicked the horse into gear four, and stepped on the accelerator. Asfaloth’s rocket booster clicked on and they zoomed off. But unfortunately, the rockets only lasted for twenty-five seconds before they ran out of fuel. “Oh patty cakes,” screamed Arwen. “I gotta get better boosters,” she said pulling up to a gas station. She spent five minutes arguing with the attendant about the best way to fill rocket boosters, and another eleven eating a chocolate bar. By the time she actually got around to leaving, the riders were not far behind.
“Give up the Halfling, She-Elf!” The witch King hissed as he approached the Mobil Mart.
“Oh you caint always get what jou want! Oh yeah!” she sang. She bolted, but this was not her lucky day, because although she had filled the boosters to the max, they still didn’t work. She hit them, but to no avail. She galloped to a river and said, “Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!” which made the river flood, and carry away the riders and horses. When Frodo awoke, he found himself lying in a bright room in Rivendell.
Gandalf came in and said, “Art thou hungry?”
“Yes, but why are you talking like that?”
“Thou dost have no knowledge of these pressing tribulations,” Gandalf replied hurrying off to get Frodo some food. When he returned he brought roast fowl, peach dumplings, and malt beer. “Is there a significant enough amount of light for thee?” asked Gandalf.
“Not quite. There’s room for a little more.”
Gandalf drew back the curtain and breathed deeply.
“Breath the free air again, my friend,” he muttered.
“Eh? What’s that? You know I ain’t hearin’ as weel ast I used ta,” replied Frodo saucily.
“No!” screamed Gandalf! “No more of that bum talk!” Then remembering himself he started afresh. “I mean, if thou wouldst be so kind as to refrain from using such language that may offend such persons who may be entitled to that courtesy.”
“What in blue blazes are you saying?” hollered Frodo.
“Never mind,” said Gandalf whisking Frodo off to a meeting.

12. Chapter 2
The Mustering of the Good Guys

It was a fine day in Rivendell and Elrond was busy cleaning for some guests. Actually, he was not cleaning; some other elves were doing that. Elrond was busily reciting what he was going to say. Just then, a horn sounded, and a strong man rode up to the front walk. After about forty-five seconds, a whole barrage of men in armor rushed up to the oblivious Boromir and surrounded him.
He flung his hands in the air and screamed, “Don’t shoot!”
“You rang?” asked a grumpy soldier with a rather ugly face.
“Yes, tea and crrrumpets, please,” said Boromir rolling his R’s.
“Hey, Smart Aleck! You’re only ‘sposed to blow your horn when you are in danger!” grumbled the soldiers marching back to Minas Tirith. .
Then Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and the four hobbits strode up the path. That night, Aragorn and Arwen met on a bridge next to the local casino.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” asked Arwen.
“YEAH! I had wicked poison ivy, and you looked like you had just fallen off a cliff!” recalled Aragorn thoughtfully.
Arwen shoved him. “That’s all you remember? Poison IVY? You’re supposed to say, ‘I thought I had strayed into a dream’!” she screamed.
Aragorn was rather taken aback, “Well,” he said indignantly, “I had strayed into a dream. The poison ivy was making me so delirious that I thought I was in a dream.”
Arwen turned her back on him.
“IT WAS ITCHY!” he called after her. He sprinted to catch up with her.
“What do you want?” she asked without looking at him.
Aragorn looked down at his toes, which he could see quite plainly for his boots were too small and threadbare. “Uh, you look pretty now,” he said stupidly.
Arwen rolled her eyes.
“Pretty eyes,” hinted Aragorn, being rather a suck up.
Arwen hurled the Evenstar at him. “Here! Keep the stupid rock! I have no use for it!”
Aragorn dropped it.
“On second thought, it would look better on my neck.” She snatched it back from him.
He clutched for it and wrestled out of her grasp.
“Mangy Mutt!” she hollered scratching at him for the necklace.
Aragorn climbed a tree, which Arwen could not do, for her dress. “Aww, keep it,” she muttered and stalked away.
The next morning, all the people made their way to the council. Galadriel was there and so were Théoden and Gollum.
Aragorn pulled out his sword and sauntered to the middle of the room. He drew out his sword and said, “This is Anduril, Flame of the West, forged from the shards of Narsil.” He swung it around and smoothly put it back. He gave a flashy smile and marched back to his horse.
“I need a pint of spray for my hair,” moaned Legolas.
“It comes in pints?” asked Pippin.
“Okay people, we are gathered here in this dark hour to answer the threat of Mordor,” said Elrond standing up. “Bring forth the ring, Frido.”
“Uh, it’s Frodo.”
“Just bring the darn ring up!”
Frodo jumped up and ran up the steps and climbed on the parapet and threw the ring on the little table.
“Clever hobbit to climb so HIGH!!!” screamed Gollum rushing for the ring.
Boromir ran with his sword raised and yelled, “Aiiieeeooowwwahhhhhnnkkkaaa!”
“Please don’t hurt us, Master, we promise to do what he wants.”
“There is no promise you make that I can trust,” said Boromir lowering the saber.
“THEIF!!!” hollered Frodo, “that was MY line!”
“Order! I will have order!” screamed Elrond.
They all slunk back to their places.
“Who will take the ring to Mordor, and cast it back into the fiery chasm from whence it came?”

Legolas stood up, smoothed his hair, and said, “I…….”
But then Gimli leaped up and shouted, “I will not see the ring in the hands of an elf!”
“SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET! NOW!” shrieked Elrond.
Everyone sat down and shut up.
“Now, as I WAS SAYING, who will take the ring to Mordor?
Boromir stepped up and said, “I will take the ring to Mordor, though, I do not know the way.”
Frodo turned purple, then red, then green. Then he collapsed, and fainted dead away.
Gandalf said, “He was strong in life. His spirit will make its way to the halls of his father. I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil.”
Everyone stared at him and Pippin dumped some Ent draught onto Frodo’s face. Frodo jumped up and opened his eyes, which were now quite big because of the Ent draught.
“Hoo hey! Mr. Bug Eyes!!” teased Pippin. As Frodo regained his senses, Boromir accepted the ring from Elrond.
“This task has been appointed to me Boromir of Gondor, and if I do not find a way, no one will.” Just as he said this, Galadriel stormed up and punched him in the face. She grabbed the ring from him and shoved it into Frodo’s hand. “There, ya little whiner, ya happy?” she growled.
“Uh, duh, um…. I…”
“Shaddap!”
“Okay! Now that we have that settled, we must choose those who will go with this honorable hobbit.

15.
We have only to remove those who oppose us. Rohan, my Lord, is ready to fall,” said Elrond sneakily.
“Hey! We are your friends! Saruman was supposed to say that!” bellowed Theoden.
“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Heh, Heh!”
Theoden glowered and turned away in a huff.
The next day, the fellowship was ready to start on their long journey to Mordor. Everyone was retuning to his proper place, Galadriel, to Lorien, Theoden, back to Rohan.
A couple of days later the Fellowship continued on their journey. They were camping on a small hill of rock and Merry, Pippin, and
Boromir were practicing sword fighting.
Legolas had just finished giving his hair a shampoo when his elf eyes saw something. “The stars are veiled. Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice. The eye of the enemy is moving. He is HERE,” said Legolas peering into the sky.
“Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, Legolas! That has nothing to
do with what is going on! That comes later!” shrieked Aragorn.
Boromir stood up. “Craibain, from Dunland!” he hollered.
“Fly you fools!” screamed Gandalf.
“Cripes!” said Frodo. They all dove under cover just as the fleeting flyers flew from far.
“The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Carhadras!” yelled Gandalf when the birds had passed. The fellowship trudged up the snowy mountain. Frodo, of course, fell down and lost the ring.
“Good Gravy, Frodo! Quit fooling around!” screeched Boromir.
Aragorn snatched up the ring and thrusted it into Frodo’s hand. “See that you keep it safe from now on,” said Aragon irritably. When they had gotten high up into the mountain a dreadful storm was brewing. Lightning struck a cliff and brought an avalanche down on to them. “They will be like the small stones that starts an avalanche,” spoke Gandalf.
“That’s in the last movie!” shrieked Pippin.
“Cripes!” said Frodo.
“We must go through the mines of Moria,” spoke Gimli.
Gandalf looked worried. “You know what the Dwarves awoke. Shadow and flame; whispers of a nameless fear. Let the ring bearer decide.
“Who, me? Uh, duh… um…”
“This will be the death of the hobbits,” yelled Legolas.
Then Merry came up with a brilliant idea. Bing! “We will go through the mines.”
Frodo hollered, “When last I looked, Frodo not Merry was the Ringbearer.”

17.

Chapter 3
The Mines of Moria

The Fellowship made their way down the mountain and trudged along until they came to a gloomy pass, where huge grey walls rose up on one side, and a murky lake on the other.
“Do not touch the water,” said Pippin cautiously.
“Stuff it, maggots! I’m trying to find the door,” said Gandalf crossly. “All I need is starlight, and moonlight… Ah Haaaaa! It reads:
The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, speak friend, and enter.”
“What do you suppose that means?” asked Merry.
“Well it’s quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open. Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen. Fennas Nogothrim lasto beth lammen!” The doors did not open! So he tried something different. “Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa!.” It still did not work.
“Nothing’s happening,” said Pippin.
Gandalf pushed against the door, but to no avail. They were shut fast.
Then Boromir threw a rock into the water. “Urrrrgh! No matter how hard I try, I can never skip stones!” he sat down in a huff.
“You Idiot! don’t touch the water!” shrieked Pippin.
“Bossy Brat!” screamed Boromir in reply.
“Big- Nosed Bloat!” yelled Pippin
“You…..”
“Button up!” screeched Gandalf covering his ears. Just then, some ripples appeared in the water.
“What’s that?” cried Aragorn shakily.
“It’s a riddle!” said Sam. “Speak Friend, and Enter. What’s the Elvish word for friend?”
Gandalf replied, “Mellon.” The doors creaked open. They all walked inside, but before much happened, Frodo let out a girly scream, “EEEEEEKKKKK!” And Aragorn was so frightened, that he did the same: “EEEEEEEKKKKK!” A huge tentacle had grabbed Frodo’s ankle and was swinging him around in the air.
“Whee hee heee HEEEEEEEEEE!” giggled Frodo.
Aragorn screamed, “Togo hon dad,
Legolas! Dago hon!”
(Bring him down, Legolas, kill him!)
Legolas replied stupidly, “Who? The octopus or Frodo?”
Gandalf screamed, “The octopus, you moron!”
Legolas shouted, “Hado i philinn!” (Release the arrows!)
Legolas shot the Octopus, or the Watcher, and caught Frodo as he fell. Aragorn was cowering under a ledge, whimpering, and now rushed into the mines shrieking. “AIEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK! RUN AWAY!” The Fellowship all ran in.
“Nothing remains, but to get an ice cream cone. Be on you guard. There are icier things than ice cream in the deep places of the world,” said Gimli.
As they trudged through narrow winding passages, and along steep pits, everyone was almost silent, except for the occasional squealing of Aragorn as he glanced downward. They finally settled down at a large opening, with three passages each going a different direction. They stopped and had some “Vittles” as Boromir called them. Aragorn was giving his usual, Poor me, routine, and looked very disgusted when the hobbits started stuffing their faces and mumbling thing like, “Mwuffaw gluscie shmmoks haaskiff.”
The next day they came to a room the only light came through a little window high in the wall. It shone down onto a stone tomb. The writing on the tomb said, ‘Here lies Balin, son of Fundin.’ Then, Pippin knocked an old laptop and printer off a ledge and into a mineshaft.
“Confound it all Peregrine Took, have you been eavesdropping?” hollered Gandalf.
“I haven’t been dropping no eaves sir, honest. I was just cutting the grass under the widow there, if you’ll follow me.
“A little late to be trimming the verge, don’t you think?”
“I heard raised….”
“Okay people. Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands. It has all been in vain. The fellowship has failed,” sulked Aragorn.
They all heard drums, drums in the deep.
Then orcs rushed into the room.
“You’re late,” said Frodo.
“An orc is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to,” snarled a ferocious little orc. Then a huge cave troll barged his way in. Sam ducked to avoid one of his powerful strokes. The cave troll said kindly, “My friends, you bow to no one.”
Sam took the cave troll’s extended hand, and the two began a Latino salsa dance. The cave troll, who happened to be a girl, was named Susanne, and took the thing that looked closest to, and smelled most like a flower. Legolas. She stuck him between her teeth and did the tango with Sam at her side.
A huge orc growled, “The orcs do not suffer the living to pass.
Merry replied, “You will suffer me.” Then he chopped off the orc’s head. The cave troll stabbed Frodo with a spear, but fortunately, he had his mithril rings on so the blow did him no fatal damage. But the others did not know about his shirt, so they all presumed that he was dead. Legolas shot the troll with three dozen arrows, and he fell dead. He bowed his head, and said sadly, “A red sun rises; blood has been spilt this night.”
“DUH!!!” scoffed Gimli glancing disapprovingly at the elf.
Frodo raised his head and grinned. “I feel, like I’m back at the green dragon after a hard day’s work.”
Pippin had his fists clenched and his teeth barred. “You shrimp of a hobbit! Nasty line thief!”
“You’re alive! You should be dead!” exclaimed Gandalf.
“You want to get rid of me that badly, huh?” moaned Frodo shaking his head sadly.
“EEEEWWWW! AGGADD! BlOOOD!” squealed Aragorn covering his eyes.
“Oh man up, Sissy,” said Boromir wiping his horn.
“You! You and that stupid horn! You always are obsessing on it. I’m sick of you and your horn!” Aragorn babbled, franticly waving his arms.
“We must flee! I sense some new devilry! RUN!!” shrieked Gandalf running for the nearest passage.
“Wow! For an old geezer he sure can sprint!” said Merry with a guffaw.
“Come on! Run!” screamed Aragorn dashing after Gandalf, his sword drawn.
They all followed. They made their way down many stairs until they came to the Tunnel.
“Wait! That’s in the third movie!” shrieked Pippin.
Oh yeah. Anyway, they made their way down many flights of stairs until they came to a portion of the stairs that was broken off. They looked down at a nasty drop, which no being could ever hope to survive.
“We are in grave peril,” Boromir said calmly.
Legolas, being a very nasty showoff, lightly leaped the expanse with no qualms whatsoever. He motioned Gandalf to jump. Gandalf looked scared, and then shut his eyes and vaulted across. He landed easily and then Boromir giving Aragorn a smirk and a quick toss of the head took Merry under
one arm, and Pippin under the other and shot over the chasm. Just as he did, the ground that had been under him gave way. All the rest scrambled to get off the eroding section.
“We must go, Frodo!” shouted Aragorn grabbing Frodo by his shoulders.
“I know what I must do; it’s just, I’m afraid to do it.” With that said, Frodo grabbed Aragorn’s arm and flew across the depth.
After everyone had made it over, they heard behind them a menacing growl.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Aragorn shakily.
“It’s Saruman!” shouted Gandalf.
“No it isn’t. No it isn’t,” said pippin.
“It’s a Balrog from Morgoth. One of the Dunedain rangers I thought,” said Legolas
“Morons! This is no time for tomfoolery! We must ride! Ride to ruin and the world’s ending! Death! Death! DEATH!!” screamed Gandalf.
Boromir rolled his eyes. “That’s in the last movie. Now if all of you want to be devoured, then I suggest that you stay where you are and continue being strange. If you don’t want to be eaten, then follow me.”
All of them followed him, but it was too late. A fearful crash was sounded behind them and out sprung a fiery demonic form. It bounded out in front of the Fellowship.
“Quick! To Buckleberry Ferry!” shouted Merry.
As they were running, Sam shouted, “No, no you big head lout! It’s ‘To the bridge of Chasad Dum!'”
They scampered over the narrow bridge as quickly as they could.
“Wow! A car sure couldn’t make it over that shrimp of a bridge,” remarked Pippin.
“There aren’t any cars in this story, Peregrine Took!” said Gandalf sulkily.
“Peregrine took what?” asked the Balrog brainlessly.
This reminded everyone of their sudden peril and they all encouraged Gandalf to meet the foe. (They were all somewhat grumpy about being called Maggots.) So he did.
“I am a servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Arnor. Go back to the Shadow.”

The beast bellowed and stepped onto the bridge. All the while, Aragorn was whimpering that the heat was making him sweat, and that he wanted to be back home with a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow. To which Frodo smacked him. Of course, Aragorn began to cry.
Meanwhile Gandalf told himself that all this talk with the Balrog was pointless, and that trying to outrun him would be a much more efficient use of time. “Besides,” he thought, “then I can try out these new sneakers I bought at Footprints,” he sniggered.
Legolas was whining “I need a holiday, a very long holiday. Maybe to the Caribbean, to see my good pal Johnny Depp or South Carolina or even Nevada.”
“Idiot! What’s in Nevada? Nothing! Except casinos! As for myself, I would rather go to California,” said Gimli.
As they were debating, Gandalf had fallen over the cliff. No one missed him much, except for the fact that they were lost, and didn’t know what they were supposed to do. They last heard him as he was falling, shouting his last words, “MAAAGGOTs!!!”
“Well, I never saw anything like it in my en-tire life,” squealed Aragorn.
The Fellowship quickly scampered out of the mines and all were pondering about where to go.
“Where are we going, and what are we going to do?” asked
Boromir.
“Well if anyone asked my opinion, which I know they’re not; I’d say we were taking the long way ’round. We could go through the mines of Moria,” Suggested Gimli.
“Idiot! Moron! Nincompoop! We just passed through the mines of Moria! I say that we make our way to Lothlorien. There is danger there that does not sleep. And a great Eye…” cried Boromir.
“Yeeeehaaa! I was quite worried about my hair. Lorien is the perfect Place!” hollered Legolas.
“The perfect place for what?” inquired Pippin.
Legolas was quite exasperated. “To fix my hair, you halfwit Halfling!”
They traipsed along ’till they came to a wood.
“Ahhh,” sighed Legolas, “my home away from home.”
They entered the woods.
“Do you think we’re safe in here?” quailed Aragorn.
“Of course, you lunkhead!” said Boromir meanly.
Just then, they found that arrows were pointed at their heads. They stopped short and looked around at about fifty wood elves.

“I am Haldir of Lothlorien. Follow me or perish,” the head elf commanded.
“Ha. Follow that old oaf? I think not,” muttered Frodo under his breath.
They stopped after about a day’s worth of tramping. Pippin wondered if Haldir really was a deer. He thought it was spelled, Haldeer. So he asked. As would have been expected, Haldir was quite angry, and became more still when Legolas asked for some Suave shampoo and conditioner.
“No!! I am not a deer, and we do not have Suave shampoo, only Loreal. Get it, Lorien, Loreal. Forget it.”
Legolas was greatly disappointed. As for Pippin, he was quite taken aback at the abrupt mannerisms of Haldir. Although, he was glad that Haldir was not some deranged form of a were wolf, or a hal deer.
Boromir was dialing Gondor on his cell phone and was talking to his dad when Aragorn sauntered up to him and whisked the phone away.
“There are no cell phones in this movie. Only horses, you muttonhead,” he grinned evilly at his remark.
“Pinhead!”
“Knucklehead!
“Ninny”
“Dunderhead”
“Dingbat!”
“Oh would you two just shut up!” howled Haldir.
Legolas was whining that he needed a shower or preferably a bubble bath.
Then a white light shone down on them. It was Galadriel. “Travelers from distant lands, Friends of old, we are gathered here in this dark hour…”

“Oh be quiet Galadriel. That’s in the beginning,” said Celeborn severely.
“Right. I knew that. Anyway, you all are tired, go now, and rest,” she spoke.
“But Gandalf’s dead! Aren’t you gonna ask us about him?” sniveled Aragorn.
“Who? That old meathead? Are you kidding? In fact, I am so glad to be rid of him that I could sing! Born free! As free as the wind blows! As free as the grass grows! Born free!” She skipped around the ledge.
All the while Legolas was carefully braiding his hair into cornrows.
“Dude, that looks nasty,” said Boromir looking shocked.

“Yeah, you’re just jealous ’cause I have better looks, better hair, and a better dad. Man! I just have it all!”
“My dad is ten times better than yours. He even met the President once, and, and, and, and! He also threw the first pitch in a Yankee’s world series game,” said Boromir proudly.
“Yeah? Well the Red Sox are one hundred times better than the Yankees are. The Red Sox have Johnny Damon, who almost has as nice hair as I do. He doesn’t use as much Garnier Fruitics, so shut up,” retorted Legolas.
“Don’t tell me to be quiet, Girly-Boy!” shouted Boromir smacking Legolas’ hair.
Galadriel said fiercely to Boromir, “Didn’t your father teach you not to hit ladies?”

“Hey! I’m a male elf!” Legolas said morosely.
“Galadriel narrowed her eyes at him. ” You watch your back.” Then she turned away.
Legolas dug into his pocket and brought out a kerchief. He loudly blew his nose, and brought out a mirror to see if all his whimpering had made his nose red. It had. His nose looked like a freshly picked Macintosh apple. He let out a scream as he saw what Boromir had done to his neat cornrows. You evil-doer! How could you?” yelled Legolas Punching Boromir’s horn. As you might guess, this soon became an all-out brawl.
That night Galadriel yanked Frodo out of a sound sleep. She dragged him sown some stairs and to a little glade with a fountain in the middle.
“Look in the mirror,” she said.
“What will I see?” said Frodo cautiously.
“Things that are, things that were, and some things, that have not yet come to pass.”
“Aww, what the heck,” said Frodo marching up to the pool.
“Mwahhahaahaaheeheehee,” she cackled evilly.
Frodo peeped into the still water. As he expected, he saw only the reflection of the stars and trees. He was enraged. “You old Phony… Huh????” As he said ‘Phony’ suddenly, he saw a picture of cotton candy. And into the pink sugary delight were cut the words: Under Me. “But,” questioned Frodo, “Under Me doesn’t seem to make much sense.” The all of a sudden, his brain became clear! And he figured out what has perplexed him! “That’s from the Silver Chair!” he hollered lividly.
Galadriel was stumped. How could such a thing have happened? “There must be something wrong with my magic water,” she gasped.
Frodo quickly scampered away.
A few days later, the Fellowship left Lothlorien. They were given boats, and some presents. To Legolas, Galadriel gave a pretty, new bow and arrows and she specially ordered for him some Suave shampoo and conditioner. Also, a travel case filled with soaps, moisturizers, sprays, and other knick-knacks. To Boromir she gave a golden belt. To Sam, she gave some heathline, or elven rope. She gave Merry and Pippin each a shiny knife and belt. And to Frodo, she gave the light of earandil, their most beloved star. She did not give Aragorn anything because he was so wimpy. And she groaned and moaned as she pulled out three of her hairs for Gimli, while Legolas watched in horror. After that day, Legolas considered her the bravest person he’d ever met.
They paddled downstream all the while,
Legolas was singing, “Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream! Merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream!”

“That’s true for him,” muttered Boromir plunging his paddle into the swift current.
Aragorn was complaining that all the rowing was giving him blisters. And when Gimli told him to shut it, as usual, he began to cry.
They finally made camp on the bank. Early in the morning as Legolas was vigilantly globbing smoother onto his hair, Frodo was wandering away from camp. He came upon some stone figures, and an old structure. He heard muffled sobs as if someone was blubbering. He crept towards the noise and surprisingly enough, it led him to Boromir!
“Are you ok?” asked Frodo worriedly.
“Oh Frodo,” bawled Boromir, “I really, really need your ring! It is our people who are dying, our blood is being spilt. Long has my father the Steward…”
“Wait! I will not give you the Ring. This Day, we fight! For all that you hold dear,” vociferated Frodo contemptuously.
“WAHHHHHHAAAAAAHAAAAHAAAA!” grieved Boromir piteously. “Gimme it!” he shrieked clutching at Frodo frantically.
“Leave me alone, snake!” yelled Frodo slipping the ring on, and then soundly giving Boromir a kick.
“What! You gave me a kick! A present for me! You’re so thoughtful!” cried Boromir unintelligently.
Meanwhile Frodo was running full speed up the hill and away from the delirious Boromir. “Thickhead numbskull,” he reflected. Then of course as being Frodo, he couldn’t go at least five minutes without falling down, so what did he do? He fell.
Before he dropped off into La-La Land, he smartly drew the ring off his finger and stuck it into his pocket not so smartly. Because as every educated person knows, if something is in your pocket, and you are knocked out cold, then someone could take it out. Nice going Frodo! Anyway, it just so happened that Gollum was still lingering about and by chance saw Frodo take the ring off and put in his pocket. (See, what’d I tell ya!) And luckily, Aragorn came up to Frodo and started doing the Heimlich Maneuver on him. Unluckily, Aragorn was not the brightest fellow. In any case, Frodo being shoved out of a sound coma, spluttered, and Aragorn did one final shove right into Frodo’s gut.
“Oaff, hack, hack!” coughed Frodo violently. He sat up. “What the…?” he demanded glaring at Aragorn and holding his now very sore stomach.

“I just want to help!” wailed Aragorn piteously.
“Ya lousy sissy!” shrieked Frodo fervently, “That was Sam’s line, and you know it. Besides, you do not do the Heimlich Maneuver on someone who isn’t choking, ya idiot! You could have severely injured me!”
Aragorn started crying again, and Frodo, quite disgusted, started walking back to camp. Just then, he heard some ferocious snarls and growls. He looked over his shoulder, and saw…Uruk-Hai! And another thing caught his attention. Was it Aragorn cowering under a ledge? No that was not any great surprise, but the fact that the head Uruk, who happened to be called Lurtz, was croaking, “Find the halflings, Arrrggghh, find the halflings,” was a little unnerving!

Uruk-Hai
Frodo, being not the cleverest of hobbits, for the moment forgot that he was a hobbit, and that the Uruks were looking for him. So he stood rooted to his position. Then the Uruks spotted him. He came to his senses and bolted. To save Frodo, Merry and Pippin shouted and waved their arms at the Uruk-Hai, and drew them away from Frodo.
“Why are we saving Frodo?” asked Pippin, panting as he ran for dear life.
Merry shrugged.
Meanwhile Frodo hastened to the river. He scrambled into the craft and tried to paddle. “Aww,” he muttered “it stinks bein’ shrimpy,” he said vainly rowing.
Sam scurried out of the woods. “I’ll go with you Frodo, just let me try drowning first.” He began to sink.
Frodo grabbed him by his hair. “Stupid, fat hobbit; he ruins it!” he yowled. Then he had a change of heart. “I’m glad to be with you Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.
In the meantime, the Uruk-Hai had captured Merry and Pippin, and had shot Boromir. “Ooohh!” cried Aragorn coming upon the injured Boromir, “what type of gun did they use? An F-14, a G-23? Tell me!”

“Not……a……gun. A……bow…and……arrow,” said Boromir struggling for breath.
“Nuts,” said Aragorn.
They left Boromir, thinking that he was dead. But he was not. After they were gone, he sprung up and cackled, “Mwahaha! I so totally fooled those lamebrains,” he said pulling a fake arrow out of his “stomach.” He then reached into his bag and selected two pointy prosthetic ears, and a long, blonde wig. “Teeheehee!” he sniggered iniquitously, “This’ll fool ’em.” He glued the ears on, placed the wig on his head, and sneaked after Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas.

Book Two: The Two Towers

Chapter 4: Into Mordor

Frodo and Sam were climbing over hill and under dale, well, actually more over hill than under dale. Anyways, Sam found that the elven rope that Galadriel had given him came in very handy. He and Frodo were shuffling down a cliff, using his rope. It was quite thin, so therefore hard to grip. They also got nasty rope burn. They finally made their way to the bottom, and Sam caught some conies.
Sméagol bounded up and hissed, “Nasssty hobbitsess. I wasss sssuppposssed to catch the coniesss.”
Sam mocked, “They catch you, they catch you!”
“Filthy little Hobbitsss; they stole it from us!”
“Oh get away, Gollum,” said Frodo pushing him away.
“Fine! For now!” he snarled and slinked away into the dusk.
Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were hot on the trail of the Uruk-Hai. Gimli was having a hard time keeping up with Aragorn and Legolas and kept lagging behind. Legolas was becoming quite annoyed with him, and kept shouting at him, “Come on, Gimli, don’t be a slug.” Gimli was enraged, and tried coming up with his own insults, and whenever Legolas came up with a particularly good one, he would say, “That’s not bad for a pointy eared elvish princling.” Then he would call Legolas something worse.
Boromir, who was trailing them decided not to follow Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, but decided to try to catch up with Frodo and Sam.
As Aragorn, the elf, and the dwarf rose over a hill, they spotted the Rohirriam. The horsemen circled the travelers, and Eomer said, “There are no travelers in this land; only spies of Sauron. Bind their hands.”
“Waiiiiiiit!” screamed Aragorn. “We are no spies. We are friendly to Rohan and to Theoden you king.”
“Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe,” said Eomer sadly. “Not even his own kin. He’s beginning to go senile.”

“We track a party of Uruk-Hai. They’ve taken two of our friends captive,” said Legolas.
“The Uruks are dead; we slaughtered them during the night,” said Eomer glancing awkwardly at the Three.
“Alive? Uh, I mean, dead?” gasped Gimli disbelievingly.
Eomer nodded. Then he whistled. Two horses were brought forth; one white, one black.
“That is one of the Mareas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell,” said Legolas proudly glancing at the white horse.
“Ya nincompoop.” That’s no orc horn,” alleged Aragorn intently.
“Whaddya mean, ‘no orc horn’?” inquired Gimli dramatically waving his arms in the air.
“I meant that is no Mareas,” sighed Aragon glancing at Eomer who was relatively disgusted.
“This is not a Mareas,” Eomer agreed.
“I say ‘That is no orc horn later in this movie, Aragorn, you imbecile!” groaned Legolas grabbing his bow.
Boromir, meanwhile, was struggling to find the hobbits. “Where are the li’l rascals?” he muttered while trying unsuccessfully to scale an overhanging cliff.
One foggy morning, through the dusk, he caught sight of them. He reached for his horn to give them a welcome blow, but then he remembered that it had fallen into the river while he was trying to cross it. So he placed his hands over his mouth and blew. The product was a sort of yowl. The hobbits were, at the moment, being guided by Gollum. To learn how that came about, we will have to go back about a day or so.
It was barely dusk and the hobbits were going to bed. Sam kneeled down on the ground and chanted, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”
“You will die, you fat hobbit!” sneered Gollum shifting down the cliff.
With a sudden inspiration, Frodo pulled out the ring.
“We wants it, Precioussss,” Gollum hissed lunging at Frodo. Sam caught Gollum by the ankles and heaved him off of Frodo. Then he pinned him to the ground. “Who are you?”
“Mustn’t ask us; not it’s businesssss.”
“Gandalf said you life was a sad story. Sméagol. Sméagol, that was your name once, wasn’t it?”
“My name, my name! Sm…Ss…Sméagol!
“Hold it. That comes when we’re in the Dead marshes,” said Frodo disapprovingly.
“Yeah, whatever,” replied Sam.
“I won’t hurt Masster; Sméagol wouldn’t hurt a fly! We will swear on…on the Precious!”
“Okay, but you must really mean it!” answered Frodo warily.
“Hereby do I swear fealty and allegiance to Gondor. In sickness or heath, in living or dying. From this hour will I henceforth….” spoke Gollum, but Sam rudely interrupted him.
“He’s lying!” he yelled.
“I will not be interrupted!” Gollum quoted.
“Are you Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” asked Frodo, “Cause that’s my favorite movie. I love the dancing parts!” He grabbed Sam’s hand and did a little twirl.
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Once Pride and Prejudice takes hold of us, it never lets go!” whispered Gollum fervently.
“Come you two, we must be getting on, we’ll never reach Mordor at this rate,” spoke Sam ushering Frodo off his feet.
“Rate…hmmmm, what does Rate remind me of…oh yeah! Rate times Time equals Distance! Rate times Time equals Distance!” and Frodo, saying this trudged on.
They then, heard Boromir’s call. Ding-a Ling! No, you moron! Not a phone call, his mouth call. Whatever. At any rate, they spotted him and thought he was an elf! In fact, they thought he was Legolas! So they climbed up to meet him. When they reached him, the two hobbits looked at him funny.
“Who in the heck are you? Cause you sure aren’t Legolas.” asked Frodo.
“Whaddya mean, ‘Who am I?’ And why couldn’t I be Legolas,” said the stranger.
“Well, for one thing, elves don’t have beards. Another, where is your backpack filled with shampoo, conditioner, smoother, elastics, and other hair care stuff?” inquired Frodo.
“Nuts, I forgot about the beard,” muttered Boromir, moodily.
All during the conversation, Sam had been looking at the “elf” extremely intently, and he suddenly realized who it was! “You’re Boromir!” he exclaimed, and smoothed down his jacket, or actually his cloak; it was somewhat blustery.
Boromir appeared dejected and pulled off the blonde wig, revealing his reddish-brown hair, and the fake ears off his normal ones. “You have a stout heart little hobbit,” he quoted Aragorn from The Fellowship of the Ring.
“Yeah…sure…whatever. In any event, why are you here?” queried Sam, diminutively aggravated by the man.
“Oh tiddly-dum and piddly-day; I was just passing through,” he responded.
“Why aren’t you with the others?” asked Frodo.
“Alas and alack,” he said sadly, “they all died.” He thought to himself, “Hooohooheehee. I am so good at this deception stuff!” Aloud he said, “They were eradicated by Uruk-Hai.”
“Oh, heavens, NO!! NO, NO, NO!!” screamed Frodo and Sam.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s true.” Boromir said, brushing away a fake tear. “I watched as they died; slow, painful deaths. After a dozen arrows shot them, the Uruk-Hai came up and knifed them. Such was the end of the Fellowship!” said Boromir pretending to be overcome with grief and sorrow.
“Oh well. It really doesn’t matter now,” supposed Frodo pitilessly.
“Yeah, you’re right Froder my man, I guess it was all for the best,” shrugged Sam.
We must take leave of this sad party for the time being, for we must now catch up with events of Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrine Took.
They were traveling on the backs of two huge Uruks of whom they now thought of as horses. In any event, Merry was rather cold, so he politely asked the Uruk who was carrying him if he would give him some hot cocoa. The uruk took a bottle, and handed it to Merry. Hot steam rose up as he lifted the cap off. He took a dainty sip and said delightedly, “Mmmmm, Foamy!” He quickly guzzled the entire thermos to the last delicious drop.
Pippin was somewhat envious of his friend’s superior luck, so he asked for hot cocoa as well. Disappointingly, Pip’s uruk was not as pleasant as Merry’s. He growled menacingly, “Keep your mouth shut!”
“Weel, aren’t We crabby today!” scorned Pippin petulantly.
“I said, keep your mouth SHUT!” the uruk barked.
They made camp that night on a grassy knoll. Pippin’s uruk was singing, “HO, HO, HO, and a bottle of rum!”
A little orc said, “SHAADAP! Why do you always have to be as drunk as a skunk?”
“The head uruk roared, “Hey ho to the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe! The rain may fall the wind may blow, and there still be many miles to go! Sweet is the sound of the pourin’ rain and stream that rolls from hill to plain. Better than rain or ripplin’ brook is a mug ‘o beer inside this uruk!”
Another little orc said, “Hey, let’s eat the hobbits!” he spluttered and gnashed his teeth.
“We can’t eat hobbit food! I want a steak! That’s what I’m in the mood for, a hot, juicy, delicious steak from Ruth’s Chris’ Steakhouse! And if you go be sure to tell them that your good friend, Sean Hanitty sent you!”

Little orc
Meanwhile, the first little orc had been creeping up behind Merry and Pippin, who stood in the middle of the circle of uruks and orcs. He now drew his scimitar, and was about to strike, when the head uruk, chopped off his head.
“Looks like meat’s back on the menu, boys!” he growled!
“I don’t see a menu!” said a stupid orc.
Merry and Pippin saw their chance, and when they were sure that all the Uruks were eating, they snipped their bonds on a fallen axe, and slipped away. But before they got far, Eomer skipped up chewing gum and jumping rope. The orcs and uruks stared at him as if he was a lunatic. But he was not. While the enemy stood shocked, the Rohirriam leaped out on horses taking the poor uruks by surprise. One orc saw Merry and Pippin running off, and even though he was hurt, the orc grabbed Merry’s belt. Merry slipped it off and commenced with his running. They stupidly went into the forest of Fangorn.
The orc was still chasing them, so they cleverly climbed a tree. But not so cleverly, Merry did not climb high enough, so the orc grabbed his feet, and since Merry could not slip off his feet, he was pulled down.
“Let’s put a maggot hole in your belly!” crowed the ugly orc sinisterly.
“WHY MAGGOT? WHY COULDN’T IT BE WORM OR BUG? YOU ORCS REMIND ME OF GANDALF! AND WE FINALLY GOT RID OF HIM! WHYYYYYYYY?” moaned Merry.
Pippin was singing, “Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! “Bararum, you are rather off-key little
shireling,” said Tree Beard.

“Dude, can you squish this annoying orc for me, Mister? He’s about to put a maggot hole in my gut,” pleaded Merry.
So Tree Beard squashed him. He then stooped and grabbed Merry around the waist in one hand, and he had Pippin in the other.
The trio then made their way into the forest, all the while singing Christmas carols.
We must now continue our sad events with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.
They climbed the hill where the dead orcs were burnt. Amazingly, after about two seconds of digging amongst the carcasses, Gimli found Merry’s elven belt.
“May they find peace after death,” said Legolas sadly. Then he looked up and said, “Forgive me, I was wrong to despair.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” said Aragorn laying his hand on Legolas’ shoulder.
“Oh, so sweet, sniff, I need a tissue,” mocked Gimli.
“I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground,” said Legolas harshly.
“Come, we must follow Frodo and Sam into Mordor,” said Aragorn.
“What!?” screamed Legolas and Gimli in harmony.
“Oh, right, I mean, uh, we must follow Merry and Pippin into Fangorn.
“You are so STUPID!” yelled Legolas furiously.
“Well! I may be dumb but I’m not STUPID!” Aragorn shouted back.
“I give up,” said Legolas in dismay.
“Will you two shut up! How do we know that Merry and Pippin went into Fangorn?” asked Gimli sensibly.
“Well, I have that all figured out. See? I brought the book The Two Towers with me. It says right here that they were taken into Fangorn,” said Aragorn pointing into the open book.
“Egad! No Aragorn! Don’t trust that book! In THIS story anything can happen. I mean, a helicopter could fly up from behind this hill, plug us with a thousand bullets and that would be the story!” screamed Legolas.
“WHAAHAAAHAAAHAA!! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to get plugged with a thousand bullets! I want to….uh, well actually what really happens in the book is a lot worse than getting plugged,” said Aragorn.
“Oh, just come on. We’ll follow the book just this once,” said Legolas in defeat.
Aragorn followed Legolas like an obedient puppy. All the while Gimli was rolling his eyes and muttering.
Let’s return to Frodo, Sam, Gollum, and Boromir.
“I’m in the mood for a grilled tuna cheese sandwich with a side of Fringles,” said Boromir ravenously.
“Actually, it’s Pringles, not Fringles,” corrected Sam.
“Whatever, I just want them!” cried Boromir.
“Hey! If you want to remain with us, then there are some rules. First, no more trying to take the Ring. Second, you may not have a tuna cheese sandwich. Why? Because we HAVE NO TUNA OR CHEESE!” Frodo yelled at Boromir’s face.
“Oh. Well what about Fringles?”
Frodo turned away in disgust.
“What’s got into him?” Boromir whispered in Sam’s ear.
“He’s tired of big oafs like you, giving him a hard time! I’ll give you a good idea. Why don’t you go make us each a new bow? It would probably cheer Froder up,” suggested Sam.
“OKAY!” Boromir shouted.
Frodo turned, “Every orc in Mordor will hear this racket!”
“I can’t do anything right anymore. I can’t help it!” cried Boromir.
“You never can!” retorted Frodo angrily.
Boromir stalked away.
The next day they came to a swamp. Frodo accidentally put his foot into the bog. He shouted, “It’s sticky; what is it?”
Gollum replied, “You’ll see. Oh yes, you’ll see.”
They went in single file alone narrow strips of grass, all following Gollum.
About four o’clock, Frodo yelped, “There are dead things; dead faces in the water.”
“Orcses filth. Orcses come in here, sometimes,” replied Gollum.
Frodo went to the edge of a bank and peered into the face of a dead elf. Then, K-SPLASH! He fell in! When under the water, ghostly figures came up at him, carrying briefcases, and shouting, SUE, SUE, SUE!
Frodo screamed, “AAAUUUGGGGHHHHH! Lawyers! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! They’ll get me! They’ll make me go broke! Sleazy, slimy lawyers!”
He then felt hands grabbing his shoulders and was pulled onto the grass, dripping wet.
“Don’t follow the lawyers,” said Gollum scampering off.
Frodo shook himself, and got back on his feet. The foursome trudged on, until one day they came upon a familiar sight. They were home. Wait, the story’s not over yet. Nevertheless, they heard the familiar screech of a wraith.
“EGAD! An F-14 Fell Beast!” cried Gollum, “Hide!”
“Do they bomb?” asked Boromir.
“NO!” hissed Gollum.
They all dove under a large bush. The wraith passed over them, and with one last scream, it flew off.
“He’s gone,” said Sam with relief.
“Come hobbitses. We have a ways to go yet. Follow me,” hissed Gollum.
“Follow the dead marshes road!” sang Sam and Frodo hooked arm in arm, and skipped off. “La la la la la la la la, follow the dead marshes road!”
Boromir was quietly humming to himself, Gollum was hissing, “Precious” and Sam and Frodo were singing merrily. Suddenly out of the wild blue John Edwards stepped out from behind a bush.
The foursome was scared silly.
“Why, hello,” he said sneakily.
Frodo cowered into a ball.
“I am John Edwards, and I want to make sure that all your hard earned money goes to me, and that your good name is ruined for life, Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!” he cackled. All doctors, beware, BEWARE! Even the tiniest mistake, and you’ll have a malpractice lawsuit staring you in the face!” he giggled evilly.
“That man is pure evil,” whispered Boromir in Sam’s ear.
Gollum who was a bit more brave than the others tried to push Eddy into the Marsh. But the foul fiend was too strong. He whipped out an insurance claim, along with some lawsuit papers, and began to speak. “Sméagol Gollum, I am suing you for violence against Frodo, attempting to steal the ring, being a health hazard to this community, and talking with too much hiss. What have you to say?”
Sméagol was dumbfounded.
Frodo was sure that there must be some good in this man, so he tried to negotiate some reason into him. “Uh, Mr. Eddy, sir….”
“And you! Frodo Baggins, I am suing you for the stealing of Sauron’s property. You will have to return the ring, plus the amount I am suing you for, which is a grand total of four point five million dollars,” said Eddy calmly.
“Run away, run away!” they screamed dashing off.
“I’ll get you! You’ll see! I’ll have the Law on you!” Eddy yelled after them.
Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli went into the forest. As they trudged on, a brilliant light shone and the blinding figure of a man stood on a rock.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” squealed Aragorn popping his nifty-keeno shades on.
“Out of the grave I arose! With a mighty triumph ‘oer my foes! I arose victorious from the dark domain………..” the being sang before being interrupted.
“SHOW YOURSELF!” Aragorn screamed again.
“Show my elf? I do not have an elf! You have an elf, but not me. Although I soon will,” replied the man pulling a toothpick out of his sleeve and shoving it between his teeth. “Or,” he pondered, “is it ‘not I?’ Not me, not I, not me, not I. Hmmmm.” he wondered.
Aragorn growled menacingly.
“I think I’ll go with ‘not I’. It makes me sound classier.”
Aragorn passed out cold.
Legolas ginned at Gimli, who grinned back at Legolas, who grinned back at……….you get the idea.
“I am your king,” said Gandalf. For of course it was Gandalf.
“Didn’t know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective,” muttered Legolas.
“You fool! No man can kill me!” yelled Gandalf.
“I am no man!” blurted Legolas.
“Ha! I always knew it! You are a girl!” said Aragorn popping up.
“No. I am not a man, but I am not a girl either,” said Legolas.
“Then what are you? A deranged in- betweener?”
“No! I’m an elf!”
“Well I know that but are you a girl elf or a boy?”
“Um, du-uh! A boy.”
“Ya coulda fooled me.”
Legolas pummeled Aragorn to the ground, and punched the living daylights out of him.
“Enough, minions, I command you! I am Gandalf the White, and we, now, are heading for Rohan.”
“Rohan?” said Legolas with indignation.
“Rohan,” stated Gandalf.
“Rohan!” cried Aragorn.
“Rohan,” muttered Gimli.
“Rohan,” nodded Gandalf firmly.
The troop ambled down the lane, which soon became a swamp.
“This is just perfect,” muttered Legolas sarcastically.
“How will we ever make it?” cried Aragorn walking about impatiently.
“Dunno, don’t care,” giggled Gimli, gleefully splashing around in the muck.
“Uggghhh! Dwarves!” said Legolas brushing a fleck of dirt off his face. He the whipped out his moisturizing lotion, and smeared the entire bottle onto his nose.
Gimli wrinkled his nose and lobbed a handful of mud onto Legolas’ freshly pressed linen shirt.
“Auuuggghhh! Gimli, what hast thou done?” screamed Legolas in utter horror.
“Havin’ some kicks,” replied Gimli.
“Will you two knock it off?” demanded Aragorn who was quite grumpy.
“But I haven’t done anything,” objected Legolas kicking Gimli in the knee.
“You just kicked him!” reminded Aragorn, vigorously slicking back his hair.
“Cut it out, maggots!” yelled Gandalf punching each in his turn.
“Are you still here?” accused Legolas.
“Yes, and I am going nowhere, no way, no how,” replied Gandalf bestowing Legolas with a knuckle sandwich.
“Yeeowsers!” cried Legolas tending his wounded head, and casting devious looks at the haughty Gandalf.
The foursome trudged back to their horses and continued through the swamp to Rohan.
After three or so days, Edoras came into sight.
“Rohan,” said Legolas peering off into the distance.
“Rohan,” repeated Gimli.
“Rohan,” said Aragorn grinning.
“What’s with you?” asked Gimli.
“There’s a cute chick in Rohan,” giggled Aragorn.
“Take it easy big fella,” warned Legolas while dusting his hair.
The trio galloped off toward the hill that Edoras was perched on top of.
As they approached the gate Aragorn saw a white figure standing on a high parapet. He got a dreamy look on his face.
“Dude, you’ve already got a girl back in Rivendell,” reminded Legolas.
“Whatever,” shrugged Aragorn.
They entered.
“Waiiiiiiit!” screamed Gimli, “we forgot Gandalf! We must’ve left him back at camp!”
“AAAUUUGGGHHH! I can’t survive without Gandalf! He knows what to do! He has magic powers to protect me!” screamed Aragorn.
“And he thinks some chick in Rohan will want him,” said Legolas sadly shaking his head.
“Here I come to save the day!” sang Gandalf riding up to the trio.
“Huzzah! Huzzah!” cheered Aragorn.
“Well, come along you sluggards!” Gandalf rode up the hill.
In the meantime, Frodo, Sam, Gollum, and Boromir had made it through the Dead Marshes and were at the Black Gate.
Frodo began to climb down the slope. He said to Sam, “If I should return, think better of me, Father.”
Sam replied, “You’re outnumbered. You need more men.”
“I will not stop the attack until the city is taken!” cried Frodo searching for a way down.
Sam fell off the cliff.
Frodo scrambled down to reach him. He lay flat on his stomach and reached out for Sam’s hand. “Give me your hand. Take my hand! Don’t you let go. Don’t let go… REACH!” he yelled straining to grasp Sam’s flailing arm. “Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!”
Sam rolled the rest of the way down.
Frodo was rather aggravated. “COME BACK HERE!” he yelled stupidly. Sam was no longer in sight, and Frodo resolved to find him. He shuffled down the cliff at a surprisingly slow rate. But there was nothing to see as far as the eye could reach.
Sure, there were rocks and dust, but no sign of a Sam. Frodo was exasperated. He hollered up the cliff at Boromir to come help him look. Sméagol popped up next to Frodo. Frodo jumped nine and six-tenths inches.
“Flighty masssster,” hissed Gollum shaking his head in dismay.
“GET ON WITH IT!” howled Frodo.
Sam wedged his head out of the ground.
“AAAAAAAA!” shrieked Frodo leaping another foot.
“What’s with him?” asked Sam to Sméagol.
Gollum just stood there. Stone still. Never moving.
Sam looked about for signs of peril.
“Just look at the screen! If the beeper is red, then there’s danger,” said Frodo.
Sam was flummoxed. Where? What screen?”
Frodo was rather sheepish. “Uh, I suppose I’ve been playing one too many Xbox games.”
Sam was livid. “You’ve no right to be jeopardizing our mission with your stupid video games!” he yelled in Frodo’s face. He stomped his foot on the ground.
“R-E-S-P-E-C-T!” sang Frodo hopping about and playing his trombone. “DAYS GO BY! I CAN FEEL ‘EM FLYIN’ LIKE A HAND OUT THE WINDOW IN THE WIIND!” He was rather off key.
“OH Gaaandalf, oh Gaaandalf! Why hast thou forsaken me!” sang Frodo.
Boromir was reasonably annoyed at the two hobbits. He jammed his hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out his nifty-keeno saran wrap. He felt that he was gaining some weight and wanted to hide it. He excused himself for the toilet, and hid behind a rock. He ripped off his shirt, and to his utter dismay, a large Buda Belly popped out. He swiftly wrapped his middle with the plastic wrap until it formed a crude corset. He appeared as skinny as a newborn larva.
He put his shirt back on, and whipped his foldaway body-size mirror out of his pocket. A piece of blue bubble gum was stuck to rim and being a gross man, he ate it.
He then returned to the hobbits. They ignored him. He jumped about. Nothing. He did a cartwheel. Still nothing. They were intently playing with a little rubber wheel. They bounced it. It rolled, and they caught it. Then they would do it all over again. It was a rather mindless game. He sat there watching them until the orcs called reveille on their flutes. Sam sat listening to the lovely music swaying back and forth and back and forth until the other three were rather dizzy.
With no warning at all, Sam burst into insane laughter.
“WHAT? WHAT!” screamed Frodo shaking Sam’s shoulder vigorously.
He just sat there and giggled.
The three shrugged and decided to wait out this temporary (or so they hoped) lapse of brain function.

Chapter 5
Edoras

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf, stumbled up the steps to Edoras. A guard met them at the door. He did a shuffle and a split. “Welcome to Edoras, Frodo Baggins,” he whistled.
“Who, ha, what? Where?” stammered the rather oblivious Aragorn.
Gandalf socked him.
“OW!” Aragorn squeaked.
They went inside.
Arwen and Eowyn leaped out, and stuck like a Took to a mug of ale, to Aragorn. He grinned as if he had died and gone to Valinor.
Legolas peeled the girls off him.
“What’s the meaning of this?” shouted Gandalf.
“Didn’t you know? This is The Bachelor. Aragorn is the bachelor, and he must decide between Arwen and Eowyn. If he marries whomever he chooses, then he will get a bride. But if he decides not to marry her, he gets Fringles.” Stated the guard.
“Pringles,” corrected Gandalf.
“No, Fringles,” insisted the guard.
Arwen batted her eyelashes. Eowyn fluffed her hair. The guard drooled.
“Oh get a tissue,” growled Gimli.
“Yes I wish that,” said Gandalf.
“Whom do you choose?” asked the guard.
“Uh, mmmm, um,” stuttered Aragorn, “do I have to decide now?”
“Weeell, you can fill out a temporary release form,” suggested the guard.
Aragorn was stupefied.
“He’s somewhat slow,” whispered Legolas.
“That’s putting it nicely,” hooted Gandalf.
“Let’s use out indoor voices,” hushed Legolas.
“OKAY!” hollered Gandalf..
Theoden hobbled out and sank into his throne. He grinned at Gandalf as he popped the recliner out. He suddenly bolted for the kitchen and returned with a diet Pepsi. “OOH, YEEEHAAA, be-BAY! Dis is da life!” he hooted slurping a swig of the drink.
This time, Aragorn was the one drooling. “Do you got another one of those?” he asked with rather horrid grammar.
“Weeeell, it depends,” said Théoden slyly.
“Depends on what?” asked Aragorn plucking at his beard.
“Stop that! You’ll go bald!” said Legolas.
“On what you’re willing to do for me to obtain a Pepsi,” snickered Théoden.
“Okay!” panted Aragorn, his tongue hanging out like a puppy with his head out a car window going ninety miles per hour.
“Dude, you are so lame,” scoffed Legolas lifting his nose in disgust. He then brought out his spiffy portable foot massage set. He plugged it into the nearest outlet, and the wax began to melt. After the goop was completely liquefied, he daintily shoved his entire foot into the slime. It was scalding hot. “YEEEEOWWWWWW!” hollered Legolas leaping twenty feet.
Gimli went into hysterics; rolling on the floor until he rolled right down a flight of stairs that led to the indoor pool, which he also rolled into.
He emerged, sopping, and rather flummoxed. This time Legolas was the one to be hysterical. However, elves do not roll on the floor when they laugh. They stand on their heads. Therefore, Legolas stood on his head, giggling uncontrollably. Gimli who was reasonably irate poked Legolas in the gut, which caused Legolas to flop over right onto Eowyn. Eowyn was at the moment carrying a large tray with wieners and French fries and cola on it. When Legolas accidentally kicked her in the back, the tray went flying, K-SMAK! into Aragorn’s face. He let out a yelp and ran wildly about and went K-RASH! into a wall. He sat on the stone floor and wiped the glop out of his gazers, and just sat.
Legolas quietly sneaked out of the room. Théoden had one of his guards grab him. Legolas screeched and hollered, but the guard took no notice. Aragorn was chugging the soda that he had stolen from the nearby Pepsi cooler and Théoden wondered how in the world he found it.
Gandalf was trying to get Théoden to admit that he was an agent of Saruman’s, but Théoden clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.
Then, Eomer dashed into the room, screaming for all he was worth, ‘Which,’ thought Théoden, “would only amount to twenty-five cents.’
Eomer hollered, “The British are coming, the British are coming!”
“Say what?” asked Théoden who was rather befuddled.
“Uh…………actually, Isengard is coming.” corrected Eomer who was rather embarrassed.
“Dude, where’s Paul Revere when ya need him?” grumbled Aragorn slurping his soda and reading the latest Harry Potter novel.
“So, let’s go to Helm’s Deep,” suggested Théoden.
“NO!” cried Gandalf.
“Why not?” asked Théoden annoyed.
“I dunno. I just know that I say that in the movie,” replied Gandalf.
“Come on! Chop, chop! I want all our people to be saddled and ready in forty minutes!” screamed Théoden booting Eomer out the door.
Forty-five minutes later, everyone was ready to go. Aragorn asked, “Are we there yet?”
“No! We haven’t even started yet,” hollered Théoden going red in the face.
“AAAAAA! My love, don’t leave me here. I don’t want to die alone!” babbled Grima running to Eowyn.
“You won’t. You’re gonna die with Saruman,” she reassured.
“Swell!” he snorted wiping his nose with a Kleenex.
Eowyn shot him a disgusted glance and galloped off.
Legolas jumped into Aragorn’s hot rod convertible, and shot off like a dart toward Helms Deep. He soon found, however, that perfect hair and convertibles go together like asparagus and ice cream. He screamed at Aragorn to stop the car and let him out. Aragorn did. After Legolas had gotten out of the car, he zoomed off into the distance, leaving a trail of dust behind him. Legolas found himself all alone. He began to sing sadly, “All by myself!” But a split second later, Aragorn and his viper screeched up beside him. Aragorn said, “Sorry ’bout this, Leggy, but you have my map.”
Aragorn snatched the map from him and sped off in the opposite direction. This time the dirt was not behind him, it was in Legolas’ hair. Legolas screamed and ran back to Edoras, which was only four hundred miles away.
When he arrived, no one was there. He peered into the distance, and saw the last of the Rohirriam galloping off into the dusk. He quickly sped after them.
When he finally caught up with them, everyone was as silent as Pippin with a mug of ale. Speaking of Pippin, let’s now go back to the adventures of Merry and Pippin.
They and Tree Beard had called an Ent moot.
“Moot rhymes with boot, and boot rhymes with loot and loot rhymes with…….uh, uh, uh, what does rhyme with loot, Merry?” asked Pippin producing some paper and a gel pen.
“Coot?” suggested Merry.
“No, idiot. It’s called a cootie,” said Pippin condescendingly.
“No, like ‘he was an old coot,'” replied Merry sticking himself with a pin.
“What in blue blazes are you doing that for?” asked Pippin looking appalled.
“Dunno,” said Merry tossing it away.
Tree Beard returned. “Up you two get!” he cried plucking them up.
“Where are you taking us?” cried Pippin.
“Into the wild,” replied Tree Beard. “We are going to destroy Isengard.”
“What! NO!” screamed Pippin covering his eyes and snuffling a bit.
“What?” asked Merry.
“Because,” said Pippin brainlessly, “Isengard guards us against our enemies.”
“UHHHHGGGGHHH! Why am I stuck with this brainless hobbit?” groaned Merry stomping his foot.
“Oh the sun is shining down here in Tennessee! And right now, I’m right where I wanna be! I never felt love so peaceful and so free. There ain’t no doubt that God’s been good to me!” sang Pippin horribly.
Merry rolled his eyes.
They then came upon Isengard. The other Ents began to kill orcs and smash buildings. But a few stopped at hot dog stands and got some wieners. The orcs gladly sold them.
Merry and Pippin, of course, wanted hot dogs, but before they could get them, Tree Beard crushed the stands into smithereens.
Whaaahahaha!” bawled Pippin, tears pouring down his face like Niagara Falls.
“URRRRGGGGHHH! HACK, HACK! Save me I’m drowning!” squeaked Merry, pretending to choke.
“One eight hundred five, eight, eight, two, three, hundred, EmpIRE!” sang Pippin.
“Today!” shouted Merry.
Merry bounced onto Pippin’s head. “YEEEEOOOOOWWWWW!” shouted Pippin shoving Merry off.
“Cut it out, halfwit halflings!” yowled Tree Beard stomping an orc into jelly.
“I think,” said Pippin serenely, “that all people should reach deep inside themselves to find their inner peace.”
“PAH! That’s all just a bunch of hooey,” said Merry clouting Pip on the jaw.
We shall now return to Frido, uh I mean Frodo, Sam, Gollum/Sméagol, and Boromir.
They had decided not to try to get into Mordor through the Black Gate. Sméagol had a private entrance which no one knew about.
Suddenly, a dude dressed in baggy jeans pulled down low, showcasing his red checked boxers, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap on sideways leaped out of the brush, and began to rap. “YO! My name’s Faramir, my brother’s Boromir, and whad are you four doin outta he-re?”
“Bro?” asked Boromir looking astonished.
“YO, Bro!”
“Why are you rapping?” asked Sam.
“Dit’s cool,” he replied bobbing his head.
“In the movie Faramir wasn’t no, uh I mean, Faramir was not a rapper; he was the captain of Gondor,” said Frodo sensibly.
“AWW, heck wi dat! I ain’t da Capn’ o Gondor no mowar.”
“But……”
“‘Cause dat ain’t cool!”
“Okay, we’ll just be moving along now,” said Frodo inching slowly away.
“AWW, heck! Don’t do dat! I gots to takes jou to my pappy.”
“What for?” asked Sam now rather dubious of this deranged chap.
“What for jou ax? I’ll tell ya what for! You fellers is just too ol fashioned. We gonna teach jou de art of de rap!”
“No! No rapping. We should take Yoga. Then we can express our inner selves and connect with our spiritual guide. We can explore the vastness of our conscience, and find inner harmony,” chanted Frodo tranquilly.
“Bogus gibberish! That’s all that is. Keep your nose out of yoga, and yoga won’t come to you,” said Sam stupidly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” derided Frodo turning his nose up in disgust.
Sam drew out his sword. “This is Sting! You’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Frodo! Give up yoga, or I’ll cut your throat! ”
“YIIIIPERS!” shrieked Boromir leaping a mile. For he saw Gollum reach for the ring.
Frodo slapped Gollum’s hand. “Naughty, naughty! Gollums should be seen and not heard,” he said reproachfully.
Gollum was rather sheepish.
Faramir was becoming rather impatient. “Dudes! Let’s get a move on here! We ain’t gotten all da day!”
The rest grumbled with apathy. When, out of the wild blue came…….da, da, da, DA! The red haired man from Kaoud Oriental Rugs! What on this great planet(except for pollution, crazy tree huggers, and spinach) could he be doing here? (Oh, I forgot mosquitoes) It did not make sense!
“What is jou doin’ here?” asked Faramir.
“To sell you a brand new rug from Kaoud Oriental Rugs! Now on the Berlin Turnpike, Manchester Center, and West Hartford!” he said with a most charming smile.
“We don’t need rugs. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, no food, no shelter, and we’ve got a crazy rapper and a Buddhist along for the ride!” shrieked Sam going ballistic.
“Hey! Watch your language, insubordinate ruffian! I happen to be a sincere Yogist. NOT a Buddhist,” remarked Frodo slyly sneering at Sam.
But when they looked for the Kaoud man, he was gone! Vanished! Departed! Removed forever from this earth like a bug on the windshield of a car going ninety-nine.
“Ehh,” said Frodo shrugging. “At least…..” but he never finished. For at that moment, a whooshing sound was heard and a sort of singing. “A whole new world!” sang Aladdin and Jasmine as they were sailing on their magic carpet. But wait! As strange as this may seem to you, there were not just two people on the carpet, there was another! And he looked very familiar. It was KAOUD MAN! And he had just sold the magic carpet to Aladdin and his fiancé! Aladdin gave Frodo a smug grin before drifting away, smooching his shnoogumcakes.
Frodo lost his lunch. Everyone squealed and jumped back.
Sam threw himself on the ground and began to smash his head on the cement floor. “Why, SMASH, WHY! Smash. WHY OH WHY? Smash.”
“Dude, like, get a grip,” said Frodo condescendingly.
“OH! I CANNOT GO ON! MY life is a-shambles! My doggie is lost and it can’t be found, oh where, oh where can he be? I’ve got poison ivy and a rash on my head, I feel so sick, and I just ate something disgusting! BWAAAHHHAAAHHAAAA!” wept Sam miserably.
Frodo, being a caring fellow, kicked Sam in the gut and strolled down the avenue of Pure Evil.
Gollum tittered like an annoying third grade school girl and blew a Raspberry at the rather pitiful Sam who was rolling in the filth.

6 Helmet’s Deep

The whole Edoras colony was heading for that magical city of Helms Deep. There, they had a Ferris wheel, a Wheel of Fortune, a Merry go wheel, and a wheel coaster. They also had games, like, “Pin the stem on the mushroom and the chicken limbo. Also, they had food, and lots of it. They had stuffed crepes from I-Hop, and the three course special from Applebee’s, and a shrimp scampi from Bertucci’s. When they arrived, Aragorn began to shove food into his mouth like a gorilla. Legolas took one bite of a stuffed crepe. Aragorn, who had eaten Helms Deep out of helm and deep, sat down and gave a rather obnoxious belch. “I’m full!” he sighed.
“I’ve gone and had too much… it must be getting late,” said Legolas rubbing his stomach.
“You didn’t eat anything!” cried Aragorn.
“One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man!” he retorted.
Aragorn wondered how Legolas was alive.
Théoden was licking a lollipop and riding the Merry-go-wheel. “YooooHEEEEEEE!” he giggled as he rode the spinning ride, around, and around and around and around and around and around and around, until Aragorn was rather hypnotized.
Then, everyone heard a “Thud! Thud!” off in the distance. Then some “OHH, Oh, Oh weee oh. OHHHH, Oh! OH, Eeeeee, Oh. OHHH, Oh! OH weeee, Oh.”
Eomer was pompous. “SEEEEEEE? I told ya! The British, uh I mean the orcs are coming! Listen my children, and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Eomer! On the eighteenth of April in seventy-five, hardly a man is now alive who remembers that famous day and year. Eomer said to his friend, ‘If the orcish march by land or sea to the town tonight; hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch in the Helm Hammer Hand as a signal light. One if by land and two if by sea. And I on the opposite shore will be ready to ride and spread the alarm through every Middle Earth village and farm, for the country folk to be up and to arm.’ Then he said, ‘Good night’ and with muffled oar, silently rode to the Deeping shore. Just as the moon rose over the bay where swinging wide her moorings lay; uruk-hai the Saruman man of war. A phantom ship with each mast and spar, across the moon like a prison bar…….”
“Oh shaddap, poem boy!” screamed Aragorn eating more food to console himself.
But what he did not realize was that what he had just eaten was not edible food. It was actually a piece of a wicker basket. “MMMMM! French fries!” said Aragorn with glee. Legolas gagged.
Théoden stood and spoke. “My dear Bagginses and Boffins! Tooks and Brandybucks! Ch……….”
“Dude, glance around. There’s no Tooks or Boffins ’round here,” said Legolas disapprovingly.
Théoden was rather irritated. “I take all this trouble to perform a speech, and you simpleton, half-baked, insolent, cur interrupted my train of thought!” he jabbered frantically waving his limbs in every direction.
Aragorn giggled. Théoden eyed him with iniquity and malevolence. Legolas flattened his silky hair. Then, Isengard was upon them. But before they could breech the Deeping wall, the men heard a sound from off in the distance. It was the Stepford Elves. The one and only Haldir led them. The throng of monotonous elves marched unanimously up to the Hamburg, uh I mean, Hornburg. Haldir gave the command to fire their arrows. All the men saw the elves dropping uruks like flies, and decided that they would be better off getting tuna cheese sandwiches. So all the men tramped off to the kitchen and the elves stayed to fight. Aragorn was pouty. He was never asked what kind of sandwich he liked. So he sat; Cold and miserable in the rain. Tears began to stroll down Aragorn’s weather-beaten face. (He had smeared dirt on himself to look tougher.) Then he started to sob. Eowyn stood towering above him, shaking her head in disgust. “Boy, for an eighty-seven year old dude, you sure can’t take hard living,” she spoke.

Aragorn stood up to his full five foot nine height and stood nose to nose with her. Well, actually nose to chin. Actually, make that nose to neck. Eowyn stood a towering six foot four and made Aragorn seem rather shrimpy. It is a known fact that as you age, you shrink. Aragorn, in his prime, was actually six foot seven. But his long years of doing nothing had shrunken him down.
He stalked off, as mad as a hornet. As mad as a rattlesnake, as mad as a fruit fly with no fruit for twenty-six miles.
Eowyn chuckled. She then went ’round the corner where Arwen was there to meet her. The two hooked arm in arm and went to go sew and crochet.
Aragorn was in the depths of despair, or so he thought, when out of the sky dropped a strange item. Aragorn picked it up. It was a glass bottle, and it had a message inside it. He scrunched his fat finger into the mouth and tried to get the snip of paper out. He only succeeded in getting his finger stuck. He ran, hollering to the banquet hall, and pleaded with Eomer to pry the bottle off. Eomer rolled his eyes and yanked the tube off. He then, handed the bottle to Legolas, who had the daintiest hands of anyone, and he effortlessly slithered it out.
It read, ‘My friends and fellow countrymen. I am Saruman and you shall do as I say under pain of death. All shall be as I choose. You shall get me coconuts, and candied pears, Egyptian chocolates, and pickled hoecakes. If these things and others be not done by the twenty-eighth of November, then there’ll be pickles to pay! Bwaahahahahahahaha!”
Your Faithful Friend,
Saruman the Wise
Legolas, Aragorn and the rest were rather flummoxed. What did Saruman mean by ‘pickled hoecakes?’ What is a pickled hoecake? Or for that matter, Egyptian Chocolate? They were bemused. Théoden decided to write a letter back to the mystery man.
“SCRIBE!” he hollered.
“Yessir?” said a short, weasel looking man. He had the appearance of deformed ferret. His eyes were slanted, and his hair was thin, greasy and slicked back. He had old Professor glasses on with thick green rims. He wore a black and green cloak, with a red ribbon and his pants were rather large on him. He carried a gigantic tablet, and a pencil.
“Write this down, take a little note. To remind yourself in case you didn’t know. Take my words, read ’em every day hold ’em close by; don’t you let ’em fade away! To remind yourself of what I forgot to say; write this down!” sang Théoden.
“EEEEEEWWWWWW! EGGGADD! I HATE George Strait!” squeaked Legolas prissily.
“SHAAADDDAAPPPP!!!” screamed Théoden going so purple, that Gimli thought he was going to have heart failure. “NOW that we have that settled, we can carry on with the letter. MMMMMM. I think that we should say, ‘Dear Saruman,
We think your idea is a most brilliant one, except we don’t know what pickled hoecakes are. If you’ll be so kind as to send us the recipe, we will gladly……..’
“No,No, NO,NO!” screamed Aragorn. “YOU DON’T SAY THAT! You sound like you will do these things for him!”
“Well aren’t we?”
“UHHHHGGGGGHHHHH! NO! We must do the OPPOSITE!” shrieked Aragorn, shaking Théoden’s shoulders vigorously.
Théoden wrestled him off. “LEAVE ME ALONE so I can think,” he said resting his head in his hands.
“Yeah, like, whatever,” said Aragorn, and motioned the rest to follow him. Only Gandalf stayed. Théoden eyed him dubiously. “Are you still here?”
“Yup.”
“Please go.”
“Nope.”
“Now?”
“Nada.”
“Please?”
“Nunca.”
“NOW?”
“Veto.”
“Get out.”
“NO.”
“I have just about had it with you!”
“Make me.”
“What if I call the guards?”
“Never.”
Théoden ran out screaming.
Gandalf was joyous, “AHHHH HA! Now I’ve got the entire place to myself.”
Théoden finally decided to ignore Saruman’s warning, and since the elves had defeated Isengard, he saw no reason to stay at Helms Deep. So they packed their things and headed off.
Meanwhile, Frodist, Sam, Boromir and Sméagol were on their way to Ithilien. Frodo, Sam, and Sméagol were treated by Faramir and his men rather suspiciously, and Boromir treated them the same. He finally obtained his tuna cheese sandwich and Fringles. He was munching his twenty seventh sandwich, when Faramir slapped it away. “HEEEY!” whined Boromir sulkily, “that was MIIIIINE!”
“Oh don’t be such a baby,” said Faramir crunching a Fringle.
Boromir snatched the can away, put the opening to his lips, and let the rest fall into his gaping mouth.
“Dude, yer nasty!” said Faramir looking shocked and appalled.
“Says you!” retorted Boromir.
“Yes, I say it. And I mean what I say, and I say what I mean,” said Faramir.
“HEY!” shrieked Frodo bursting in, “are you Farrah Faucet?”
“No, she’s my second cousin,” said Faramir.
“Oh,” said Frodo rather disheartened. He wiped his runny nose on his sleeve.
“EEEEEEAAAAAAKKKKK!” screamed Faramir, whipping out the bleach. He chased Frodo around the room trying to pour bleach on his sleeve.
Frodo was having a grand ‘ol time, but he was getting a side stitch, and his nose kept running.
“Better catch it ‘ol fella!” screamed Faramir tripping over his own feet. He landed in the middle of an antique coffee table and it smashed to smithereens. Frodo keeled over, trying to catch his breath. He reached for the ring, but found it was no longer around his neck. He finally found it, laying in a pool of bleach. When he took it out, instead of its familiar golden gleam, it was more like its unfamiliar silver gleam.
“Oh, dumbbells,” said Frodo slipping the ring back onto its chain. Fortunately, the chain was already silver, so it coordinated with the newer, classier, spiffier ring.

Book Three: The Return of The King.
Chapter 7: Edoras Reborn

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Théoden, Eomer, and Gandalf approached Isengard.
Merry and Pippin were swinging through the trees like Tarzan when Pippin slipped and fell, SMAK! Onto Aragorn’s head.
Aragorn hollered like he had never hollered before. He shook himself to try and shake the hobbit off, but Pip stuck like a leech.
“Use the Force, Aragorn!” advised Gandalf.
Aragorn shut his eyes, but nothing happened. “Aww, to heck with the force,” mumbled Aragorn as he lifted the squirming hobbit off his head.
Merry swung down. “Hullo Pip!” he greeted paying no attention to the rest of the group.
Gandalf was rather irritated. “I must speak with Saruman, for better or for worse, for richer (hopefully richer) or for poorer,” he spake.
“What shall we use to destroy Saruman?” asked Legolas shakily.
“Well, we could use the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, or the Blessed Machine Gun of Jerusalem,” suggested Gandalf.
“No, I think you should have a sword fight with him,” recommended Théoden.
Gandalf shook his head.
“How about Nano Probes?” asked Gimli.
“Naw.”
“Foot mines?” said Merry.
“Dunno.”
“How about the Deathly Sparrow?” said Eomer.
Gandalf was in despair.
“Green Goblin?” asked Pippin.
“Yeeeehaaa! That’s it! You hit the nail on the head! Pippin my Hero!” cried Gandalf hugging Pippin.
“EEEWWW, EGGGADDD! BLECK, Ptooy!” squealed Pippin, squiggling out from Gandalf’s grasp.
“How do we get the Green Goblin here?” asked Aragorn.
“We sing,” said Gandalf.
“Oh Goblin, O Goblin! Where art thou?” Please come to us, please come to us! For we are in great peril!” sang everyone to the tune of O Christmas Tree.
Then from the sky came a clang and a bang, and a chiggety chang. And the Green Goblin whooshed into sight.
He landed before them. “How might I be of service, oh great and powerful Gandalf,” he said in a rather croaking voice.
Pippin and Merry were rather frightened.
“Ah yes, my old friend. Saruman is in that tower…” he pointed in that general direction, “and we need to have him dead. Can you accomplish such a daring feat?” said Gandalf laying his hand on the goblin’s shoulder.
“Aw, shucks,” said Gobby turning bright red.
And Gandalf and the Goblin turned and strolled arm in arm toward Isengard, not seeking Saruman’s counsel. As they approached the tower, Saruman peeped out from the top of the skyscraper, and did a jig. “How do you like me now, now that I’m on my way? Do you still think I’m crazy standin’ here today? I couldn’t make you like me, but I always dreamed about killin’ all your people; how do you like me now?” sang Saruman, hopping foolishly about. To Gandalf and the Goblin’s horror, he fell off and went, K-SPLAT, on the clean marble floor. “But,” thought Gandalf, “marble isn’t a sensible flooring material anyways.”
The poor Goblin was rather dejected, for he had hoped to kill Saruman himself. Pippin tittered.
“WHAT?” screamed Gandalf, his head looking like an overgrown puffer fish.
Pippin sulked.
But what none of them saw was that Saruman was not dead! As they all headed off, he rose, suddenly and menacingly, and sneaked off.
Meanwhile, back with Froding, Sam, Boromir and Sméagol. They were walking through the woods, and Boromir was whining about something, and Frodo was stumbling along. “OOOHHHH, EEEEEAHHHHH! WHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! MEEEEEEEEEOWWWWWWW!” moaned Boromir scratching his knee, which was rather bloodied up. Of course, if you scratch a scab, then you’ll make it bleed. Guess what happened when Boromir did so. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” howled Boromir, hair blowing in the gusty wind.
Sam was rather irritated. They climbed the path towards Minas Morgul. That oh so homey place where the Nazgul live.
Meanwhile, Aragorn, Gandalf, and the rest all headed back to Edoras.

Chapter 8: The Turning of the Tide

Legolas grinned over at Aragorn as he eyed the mugs of beer. They were all at the victory celebration after they defeated Isengard at Helm Deep. All were now back in Edoras having a big hoedown. Merry and Pip were doing cartwheels on a table and singing horribly, Aragorn was sitting in a corner sulking, and Gimli had just given Legolas a punch in the head.
Legolas, after drinking thirty-seven mugs of beer began to complain. “My tingers fingle, uh I mean my fringers lingle, and I want my old shower back home with the built in shampoo and conditioner dispenser!” he wailed throwing himself down in a heap on the wooden floor.
“Great Gumballs!” cried Theoden, for he spotted Gandalf sneaking into the royal treasury chamber.
Eomer thought it was high time for entertainment, so he rushed into his boudoir, and rummaged about for a while. He found an old clown costume from Halloween ten years ago, an electronic lightsaber; Eomer began to play with it, warding off the dark side of the force.
“Take that Darth Vader!” he yelled, jabbing the imaginary breathalyzer dude in the gut. But he soon remembered his purpose for coming to his room. He tore apart his whole closet before he finally found his large viol. He quickly tuned it and played symphony from Bach and knew his destiny lay before him. He put on a suit and tie and lugged the viol out to the banquet hall. He sat down on Théoden’s throne and began to play. No one paid any attention to him. He was rather downcast.
Theoden, as he came back from preventing Gandalf from stealing all the royal treasure, saw Eomer sitting in his throne. He stomped up the steps, grabbed Eomer by the shoulder and pushed him off the throne. Poor Eomer fell flat on his face.
Aragorn timidly asked King Theoden for a grilled cheese sandwich because he didn’t like any of the food there.
“EVERYONE, GET OUT NOW!” screamed Theoden booting Aragorn in the butt.
Everyone scrambled out, except for Merry and Pippin, who crept under a table with a long tablecloth.
The only people who were left in the room were, Theoden, a Palantir, Grima, and from behind a secret door came Saruman.
“So,” spoke Saruman, “have we got any dirt on the wizard?”
“Some,” said Théoden pensively. “I caught himin the royal treasury.”
“Just like him,” muttered Saruman shaking his head. “Always was a thief. He stole my favourite manicure set.”
Théoden rolled his eyes in disgust.
“I always did wonder how you got your nails like that,” glowered Grima glumly.
“Leave me alone, Snake!” shouted the embarrassed Saruman, slapping Grima’s head. Grima snatched the Palantir, and hurled it at Saruman, who pummled to the ground. The seeing stone shattered, leaving Saruman and Théoden rather speechless, casting murderous looks at Grima.
“It was un accidente!” wailed Grima. He had an intolerable habit of speaking Spanish when he was upset.
Théoden socked Grima in the stomach. He keeled over, sprawling on the stone parapet.
At that moment, Aragorn came in and saw the scene. He gave one look at Saruman and then turned to Théoden. “Can you by any chance get me that sandwich I asked for?”
Théoden clenched his teeth and hissed, “Get out NOW you moron! I will not have an imbecile in my palace.”
Aragorn left the hall, weeping.
As Théoden and Saruman continued to plot and scheme, the rest of the people who had been kicked out stood in front of the palace waiting for Théoden to tell them to come back.
“What did Théoden say when you went in?” asked Gandalf when Aragorn returned.
“Théoden called me a moron, but Saruman didn’t call me anything,” wept Aragorn.
“SARUMAN?! HERE?!” screamed Gandalf in Aragorn’s face.
“Yeah? So what? What does that have to do with a grilled cheese sandwich?” asked Aragorn moronically.
“YOU LUNKHEAD OF A MAGGOTT!” stormed Gandalf, punching Aragorn’s ear. Then he burst into the banquet hall. He skidded to a stop because there was no one there.
Then Théoden came out of the kitchen and said, “Hullo Gandy ‘ol boy!”
Gandalf glowered across the room suspiciously at Théoden.
“Well everyone can come back now. And tell Aragorn that I just finished his making his grilled cheese.”
“Where’s Saruman?” thundered Gandalf.
“Saruman? Here? He he he he he,” laughed Théoden uncomfortably. “Didn’t he die?”
“Aragorn said he saw him.”
“Don’t you trust that wimpo!” reminded Théoden, “He doesn’t know his left from his right.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Theo. He is somewhat of a pinhead.”
“SOMEWHAT?” shouted Théoden, “He is a complete mushbrain.
“Okay, okay! But on to more important issues,” sighed Gandalf wearily sinking into a chair.
“Like what?” inquired Théoden anxiously, pouring himself a cup of Joe. Gandalf nodded at Théoden to get him one.
“Well, for starters, what do we do now?” spoke Gandalf placing his muddy boots on the hardwood table.
Théoden looked over either shoulder, then leaned in toward Gandalf and spoke in a hushed whisper. “Well, I’ve been thinking, perhaps we should join with Saruman.”
“WHAT?!” screamed Gandalf leaping to his feet and banging his knee on the coffee table.
“Well, here’s the deal. We could pretend to be friends with him and in turn, he is friends with Sauron. So Saruman builds an army; we take it over and then attack Sauron.!”
“Hey,” said Gandalf sitting down, “that’s a pretty spiffy idea you’ve got there…………ohhhhhhhh yeeoww!” Gandalf yelped rubbing his smashed knee. “You should get some tables without sharp, nasty corners; I’m too old for such humbledy-gig.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to, but you know how things are these days. Just no good furniture stores. All we’ve got is Bob’s Discount Furniture,” sulked Théoden.
“RIGHT ON, BOB!” yelled Gandalf stupidly.
Théoden narrowed his eyes at him.
“I’ll go get the others,” said Gandalf starting to rise.
“WAIIIIT! Why get those stick in the muds? With them gone we can PAR-TAY! I’ll get the popcorn, you get the home theatre set up,” ordered Théoden.
“YEEE-HAA BABAY!” hooted Gandalf punching the air.
The two geezers ran about, plugging things in, turning machines on, rolling down screens, and so forth. Gandalf crept into the kitchen and to the refrigerator to search for turkey meat and pickles.
“What do want turkey and pickles for?” asked Théoden incredulously.
“Well, you take a pickle wrap it up in a slice of fresh Boar’s Head turkey meat, take a bite and crunch-a-munch!” demonstrated Gandalf expertly.
“WE-LL, soundz mighty spiffy. Why don’t you whip us up a batch of your delectable delicacies,” suggested Théoden.
When the two had finally sat down for the movie, they sank back in their recliners, plopped their denchers in their containers, and hit the play button.
Merry and Pippin had been hiding under the table the entire time, and were now numb with horror of what they had just seen.
“Merry!” hissed Pippin fervently.
“What?”
“Let’s make a dash for it!”
“For what?”
“For the door!”
“Oh, okay. On the count of three. One, two, three!”
The two crept out from under the table and sneaked over and opened the massive doors. They creaked horrendously, but Merry and Pippin managed to get out.
When the door creaked, Gandalf and Théoden looked over, but seeing nothing with their old, decrepit gazers, they burped and went back to Pride and Prejudice.
The two old cronies wept and bawled when Elizabeth rejected Mr. Darcy, and also at the end when the two got married.
“Oh,” Théoden sniffed, “it’s the most beautiful sight!”
All Gandalf could do was sniff.
At the end of the movie, the two shoved the rest of the food into their mouths, pushed back their recliners and heaved a sigh of contentment.
Gandalf chuckled sleepily, “I’ll bet those buggers are still standing out there in the cold, shivering, and formulating hypothermia. Mwahahahahahheheheheheheheheheh!”
“Yeah,” hic-upped the rather drunk Théoden, “probably sucking their thumbs and crying for Mommy!”
“At least……Aragorn is!” giggled Gandalf spilling the cranberry lite beer over himself.
Théoden clunked his glass to Gandalf’s and sniggered uncontrollably.
“What a feast, what a feast, Theo ‘ol boy. You sure know what a party is,” mumbled Gandalf nodding off to sleep.
Théoden just snored.
While Gandalf and Théoden slept, Aragorn and the rest of the gang sneaked into the hall. They eyed the two drunk, overfull geezers and Aragorn had a plan.
“Yo, dudes,” he hissed, producing a permanent marker, “Let’s draw on their faces!”
“Yeah!” the rest agreed.
“I dunno, it doesn’t sound too spiffy to me,” said Legolas sceptically.
“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Leggie,” chided Aragorn shaking the pen at him.
Legolas stuck out his lower lip as far out a it would go, and waggled it.
Aragorn grabbed it and gave it a yank.
“Yeeeoowww!” Legolas yelled sucking his lip in.
“Serves you right, sucker!” chuckled Aragorn. He took his marker, crept over to Gandalf, and colored his lips in black, made thick eyebrows on him, dimples, round dots on his cheeks, and others to make him look like an ugly woman.
They watched as Aragorn drew a clown face on Théoden, and then they shuffled back out. They camped out in a tavern called the Green Dragon, and waited for Gandalf and Théoden to wake up.
The geezers woke up at precisely 11:27 the next morning. Gave one glance at each other, and both gave the loudest holler. People ninety-three
years from then swore that every morning at 11:27
they could still hear the echoes.

Chapter 9: Bandaged Legolas

The next day, they held a committee.
“Judgment for the plaintiff for one thousand dollars. Case dismissed,” said Aragorn, banging his fist on the table. “Ouch!” he complained.
“Hey!” stormed Judge Judy bursting into the room, “That was my line and you know it!” she slapped Aragorn over the head. He scowled a scowly scowl.
She grinned over at Théoden who was in love at first sight. “See ya later, chumpy,” she said drifting off in her flowing black gown.
“OOOHHHH! I’m so important in my stupid black frock! Bladdy, bladdy, hoo, hoo!” mocked Aragorn skipping about, attempting to float. All he accomplished was stubbing his toe and losing what little reputation he had left.
“Shaddap, maggot!” thundered Gandalf slapping Aragorn’s already sore head. Aragorn made a face.
“My children! Heaven smiles down upon the Middle Kingdom. China will sleep safely tonight. Thanks to our brave warriors,” spoke Gandalf pointing to himself.
Legolas socked him. It was rather a dire thing to do, for Gandalf arose, more incensed than ever. To save you the gruesome details, Gandalf put Legolas in a sling, crutches, and neck brace for four months and a half.
“My theory is,” stated Aragorn peacefully, “is that we all came from clams. I think that our ancestors were ancient forms of clams, and that evolution is wrong.”
“You must at least have come from clams, ’cause you have such a big mouth,” said Legolas meanly.
“Ah, yes, my ‘ol Gran’pappy Clammy. He always was a crab. He married Mrs. Scallop!” Eowyn yelled.
Eomer giggled.
Aragorn pouted.
“Farewell, all ye who travel far!” shouted Gandalf whisking Pippin on to Shadowfax, and bolted for Minas Tirith.

Chapter 10: The Winding Stairs

Frondo and the rest were all heading for Minas Morgul. Frodo was dragging his feet, and Boromir had lost twenty-five pounds, just from walking from Ithilien to the Morgul Vale.
“Where are we, and what are we doing?” asked Frodo looking rather scared.
“Sneaking,” said Gollum.
“Dude, you are so, like, dark,” said Boromir.
“Never! Sméagol wouldn’t hurt a fly!” cried Gollum appearing to be hurt.
Sam rolled his eyes, and munched on a Slim Jim beef jerky strip, flavored mesquite. He hacked and coughed violently as a bite went down his windpipe.
“Fat hobbit is always so polite,” said Gollum looking disgusted. “He’s always hungry. He always needs to feed. He must eat. All he gets is nasty jerky.”
Sam tossed the Slim Jim over the cliff, and reached into his full pack. He produced a watermelon, a cantaloupe, a waffle, and ketchup. He took one glance at the red dressing and shoved it back. He carefully sliced the watermelon into three and ¼ inch slices. He swiftly gobbled them up, and then bit into the cantaloupe. Unfortunately to say, he chipped a tooth. Sam chucked the melon over the edge also.
“WHAT’D YOU DO THAT FOR?” screamed Frodo.
“It wasn’t edible,” said Sam gluing the chip of his tooth back on.
“Dude, you’re, like, supposed to cut and peel off the rind,” said Boromir rubbing his very sore feet.
“Oh,” Sam shrugged. “Don’t vorry, be happy. I got, like, ten more of those babies in my other pack,” he said reassuringly.
The foursome continued on their journey up the mountain.
Meanwhile, Gandalf and Pippin walked up the steps to Minas Tirith. Pippin reached into his pack and whipped out his nifty keeno skateboard. He hopped on, gave Gandy a quick nod of his head, and zoomed off. He skated around and down all the levels of Minas Tirith. People jumped aside to avoid the out-of-control skater-hobbit.
Denethor peeped out of his window, wondering at all the commotion, and he saw a small figure speeding back up the hill.
When Pippin reached the top, Gandalf was cross.
“You fool of a Took! This is no time for foolishness. If you want to be cooked by Denethor, then you just keep this up, mister!” shouted Gandy irritably.
Pippin sulked.
The two made their way past the dead tree, up to the doors of Ecthelion.
“It reads, ‘The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, Speak Friend and Enter,” said Gandalf.
Pippin looked annoyed. “Dude, you said that in the first movie. We’re at Ecthelion, not Moria.”
“Yeah, like, whatever,” said the old dude banging on the door.
They went into a high, and wide hall, colored black and hot pink. A huge disco ball was hanging from the ceiling. Disco music was playing, and Denethor was in green sparkly bell bottoms, and a flashy shirt. He was dancing around and playing an invisible guitar. He ended the song by dropping to his knees and smashing it.
He eyed Gandalf and Pippin, spun around, and pointed his index at them, and knocked his fuchsia fedora low over his eyes. “What may I be doin’ for you two snazzy fellas?” he asked.
“Boromir’s dead, Mordor is coming to destroy you, and you’re a lunatic,” Gandalf said.
“Good. That worthless bum was always getting on my nerves,” said Denny cruelly. “Faramir is my favorite. He has a different style than me, but he’s still groovy nonetheless.”
“I totally agree with you,” said Gandalf.
“I liked Boromir,” shrieked Pippin angrily.
“Who’s the shrimp?” asked Denethor.
“Uh, he’s just someone I know. He’s kinda annoying; there used to be four of ’em, but I got rid of ’em,” said Gandalf evilly.
The two cackled together.
Pippin, being and expert climber, climbed onto the King’s throne and imagined himself as the last king returning in glory to the defense of Gondor.
“You moron! Get off that seat immediately!” screamed Gandalf.
Denethor climbed up to grab Pip, but Pippin being more agile, and a far better climber then Denethor, escaped his clutches.
He finally hopped down from the throne, and spoke, “I have a pretty swell idea! Let’s go to Denny’s for lunch!”
Denethor looked befuddled. “We already are at Denny’s. I am Denny.”
Pip shook his head. “No, no, no. I mean the restaurant Denny’s,” he said feeling rather exasperated.
“EEEEEEWWWW!” squealed Gandalf. “Denny’s is the most disgusting place!”
Pippin gave up and went to explore the palace. He bumped into Faramir who had just returned from a Rap concert. He had popcorn in his hair, and his face was purple from the grape soda.
“Wassap li’l dude?” he asked bending down to get a closer look at Pip. “I just ser tow ‘o yer fryends back a ways. Da dude Frods weren’t all dart cormplyn’,” he said in his usual language.
Pippin had not understood what he had just said, except that it was something about some person named Frods. At first he thought that Faramir was talking about Frodo, but his heart sank the next minute.
“Oh,” he sighed.
“Waiiiiiiit. Da hobb don’t sem too hoppy. Why’z dat?” Faramir questioned, looking rather concerned.
Pippin sort of understood what he said this time, so he answered. “Well, it’s just that I thought that you were talking about my cousin Frodo. But I don’t know anyone by the name of Frods.”
“Aww, heck! I’s doos knows a someone by de name ‘o Frodo. I’s justs calls ‘im Frods fo’ short,” said Faramir reassuringly.
“Really?!” shrieked Pippin enthusiastically. “Cool beans!”
“Riiiiiigt. Anyways, dar was another dude with ’em by de nome ‘o Sammy,” said Faramir turning away.
“Wow! Were they okay? How were they?” shouted Pippin jumping up and down.
“Dude, last time I ser ’em, dey seemed fine ter me,” said Faramir becoming rather impatient.
“Yipppeeeekiiiiaaaaaaiieeee!” shouted Pip, and he skipped down the halls.
As all this excitement was happening, Freako, Samster, Boring, and Smeaglum were heading for that dreaded cave of peril, and the Pass of Cirith Umbrella.
“What if it rains?” asked Frodo with fright.
“Dunce! The entire pass is one giant umbrella!” scoffed Boromir kicking the dust into Frodo’s gazers.
“AUUUUUUGGGGHHHH! I can’t see, I can’t see! I’ll be blind for life, and the whole world will end, and you’ll all die miserable deaths because I was blind and couldn’t take the ring to Mount Doom so Sauron will kill you ALL!” Frodo panted from that enormously long run-on sentence.
Boromir was annoyed. “If you don’t stop hamming things up and placing your dramatic ideals on everything, I’ll have your hide!” he screamed bonking Frodo’s head. But Frodo was a long time gone, and Boring accidentally hit Sam’s noggin instead.
Sam shot Boromir a malicious glare, and kicked him in the shins.
The foursome struggled up the cliff at a rate of five eighths of a mile per hour.
When they reached the top, Sméagol said, “See? See? we’ve led you out! Very lucky we finds you,” he hissed sarcastically.
Ahead on the path there was an opening in the rock, and a pale pink light was coming from inside. The four ventured in. But when they finally got inside the tunnel, there was absolutely no light at all.
“Gotta go, mi amigos,” said Gollum darting off.
“What!?” shrieked Frodo.
“Hey! When ya gotta go, ya gotta go,” said Sam shooting Frodo a glance.
“OOOOOH. That kind of Go,” winked Frodo knowingly. “I know that when I have a Candy Craving I want to go get some too.”
Sméagol returned ten minutes later with a thirteen pound bag of lemon drops, lollipops and sugar balls. He swiftly gobbled them down, and to everyone’s satisfaction, became sixteen pounds heavier.
“Swell job there, Chubbs,” said Frodo meanly.
“Hey, I could put on forty-five more pounds and still weigh less than you,” reproached Gollum, scarfing the remaining sugar balls.
Frodo was rather contemptuous.
They all crept along the dark passages, and passed openings leading into absolute nothingness.

Chapter 11:The Rohirriam Riders Fall Short of Gandy’s Expectations (or for short) Great Expectations.

Legolas was brushing his hair in his plush bathroom at The Hotel de Edoras. He was staying there, along with Gimli and Aragorn because Théoden was rather sick of them. Anyways, there came a knock on Leggy’s door. So he snatched his pepper spray, and swung the door open. There, in all his raggedy splendor was Johnny Depp dressed as Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean. Leggster’s face lit up as he saw his old pal.
“Wassap, ‘ol buddy?” asked Legolas giving Johnny a good-natured punch on the shoulder.
Johnny eyed him meticulously. “You look like a girl,” he observed tugging Legolas’ long, blonde hair.
“Will you come in and have some tea?” asked Legolas trying to be polite.
“You act like a girl,” Johnny studied.
Legolas was rather flummoxed. “Uh, here have a crumpet,” he offered nibbling a bite.
“You eat like a girl,” Johnny said disapprovingly.
Poor Legolas was now rather upset. “What’s wrong with girls? Do you have a grudge against them?” asked Legolas angrily.
“No,” Johnny disagreed. He then poured the steaming cup of tea onto his own head. “Waste not, want not,” he spoke licking the driblets running down his cheeks.
Leggy was revolted.
Then Depp took the flaky crumpet, broke it in half and stuffed one half into each side of his cheeks like a chipmunk.
“What are you doing?” inquired Leggy looking horrified.
“Saving them for later,” replied Johnny.
Leggy shoved Depp out the door and slammed it. “Uggghhh! Some people these days!” he sighed snacking on the last crumpet.
A flash of lightning shone in the room and a strange man there stood. He was wearing a hat with bull horns sticking out of it, and he had a staff. He was one of the Istari, of the council of wizards.
“Who are you?” asked Legolas.
The man look at him from the corner of his eye. “There are some who call me….Tim,” he said eyeing Leggy skeptically.
“Please O Tim the enchanter, rid me of this girly spell!” pleaded Legolas.
Tim raised his hand and a flash of fire blew up the living room couch. He then shot up the new Asko dishwasher.
“Uh, I see you’re a busy man so…..” Legolas said.
“The Grrrrail,” Tim said rolling his r’s.
“The what?” asked Leggy.
“The Grrrrail!” hollered Tim seeming rather annoyed.
“Sorry pal, I am not after any Grrrrail,” said Legolas.
“Oh,” sighed Tim looking downcast. “I was looking for King Arthur and his Merry Men, or Robbing Hood and his Members of the Round Table. Have you seen them?” Tim asked getting up close to Leggy’s Face.
“Um, wasn’t it Robbing Hood who had the Merry Men, and King Arthur who had the Round Table?” inquired Legolas sensibly.
Tim thought about that for a minute, scratching his beard. He finally said, “No, Arthur had the Merry Men, and It was Hoodlum who had the Round Table,” he stated, firmly nodding his head.
Leggy disagreed. “No, you’re wrong, Buddy Boy.”
Then in another flash, Tim disappeared.
Legolas was rather flummoxed. He had had a tiring day, so he lay on his sofa….but wait, Tim had blown up his sofa, so he could not lay there. So he went to his boudoir, and snoozed of into dreamland.
A couple hours later, at five thirty, Arasnore knocked on Leggster’s hotel room door. Leggy was jolted out of a sound sleep. He had been dreaming of telephone wires and bubble baths. He sleepily opened his door. Aragorn yanked him out and down the stairs for supper. Legolas resisted. “All right, All right, Al Gore! I’m comin’ already! Geez!” he shrieked dashing back to his room and combing his hair.
When they got to the banquet hall, Théoden called for silence. “Silence!” he did say. He tapped on his glass. “SILENCIO!” he hollered when nobody listened to him. Everyone shut up. “Now, I have important news that I am sure that you shall wish to hear. The beacons of Gondor have been lit, and I think that we should leave them to their own fate. What say the rest of you?” Théoden hollered standing on his chair.
“WHAT? You would let them die? If that is your meaning, then you are not the King I first knew,” said Aragorn angrily stomping his foot and throwing his glass at the passing servant.
“Gosh, must you be so sensitive?” asked King Théoden tripping another waiter.
“If you have not the courage to fight the Foe, then I am not……uh, I will not…..uh, you will be….uh…….” stuttered Aragorn searching for the right words.
Theo rolled his eyes. “I do have the courage, but I think that we should give Gondor the right to fight for herself this time, as she has let us do,” said he.
“Well, that makes sense, but I still think we should help. Who stands with me?” shouted Aragorn raising his mug of ale into the air.
“I!” shouted everyone except Eowyn, who hated his guts.
“Well, it’s unanimous!” said Aragorn happily.
“Hey! It can’t be unanimous unless everyone agrees. And I don’t,” Eowyn said feeling rather hurt.
“Hey, you cant take place in military votes! You are a girl, so you can’t fight or make any decisions. Ha ha ha,” Aragorn said meanly.
Eowyn sulked.
The Rohirriam were saddled and ready to go. Eowyn was coming along for the ride, and Merry had his own mini steed. Leggy, of course, had Aragorn’s hot rod which he stole, and politely asked Eowyn to join him. Aragorn was fuming. ” HEY! PRETTY BOY! Why didn’t ya ax me to go with ya?” said Aragorn feeling rejected, and abandoned. (And he really wanted the girl)
“Because,” said Legolas rolling his eyes, “You are not pretty enough, and she is. Ha ha. Ta ta my friend!” he sang speeding off.
They camped that night on a tall hill, and in front of an evil mountain. (Or so they thought.)
They all ate and then for amusement, and mostly for their noses, they made Aragorn take a shower. He squiggled and squirmed, and squirmed and squiggled, but to no avail. They set up the shower tent, and tossed him in, clothes and all. They figured his clothes needed washing as well.
After three and a half hours, he finally emerged, sopping, and smelling a sweet as a flower, for Legolas had given him his Garnier Fruitics soap and conditioner.

Meanwhile, in the pass of Cirith Umbrella, whilst Gollum, Froodo, and Samist were trying to find their way out, Boring sneaked out and headed for the great unknown. He happened upon a strange man, but we shall learn more about that later.
Aragorn woke with a jump start, a stick clutched in his hand after having a dream about clowns. Clowns scared him more than anything.
A second later, a soldier opened the tent flaps and said, “Da kingy wants ta see ya.”
Aragorn lugged himself out of his cot, slicked back his hair, and stumbled into Theo’s plush tent. A figure was sitting there, clothed in a dark pink robe. Strands of dark brown hair showed.
“Sweetie,” squealed Aragorn rushing over to the figure and giving it a hug. The figure stood up, threw back its hood, a scream filled the night air, the torches blew out by a sudden wind, and Aragorn fell down in a coma.
As you probably already have guessed, the figure was of course Boromir. But what you do not know is that he met Elrond who was on his way to meet Aragorn to give him the sword. Elrond, who was rather annoyed to be going a long way from home, gave the sword to Boromir, and told him to give it to Aragorn. Boromir had no intention of doing so. Elrond knew this, so he put a spell on Boromir to make him do it.
So there Boromir was, standing over an unconscious Aragorn grinning evilly.
Aragorn spluttered and opened his eyes wearily. His vision was blurry, but it began to clear. He saw Boromir standing over him and sat up quickly. Boromir shoved the sword into Aragorn’s arms.
“There you old wuss. Keep your stupid sword.”
“Bu….bu…but, what do I do with it?” asked Aragorn.
“Am I your keeper? Fight with it, you dingbat!”
“Oh,” Aragorn and eyed Boromir suspiciously. “Why is your hair long and brown?”
“Oh that. It’s supposed to be blonde, but it’s just really dirty.”
“Well wash it.”
“Dude! Yer right! It’s just a wig so I can clean it and I don’t have to clean myself!”
“See here man, you need a serious washing up yourself,” said Aragorn covering his nose.
“Hey, respect your elders,” said Boromir.
“You are not my elder,” retorted Aragorn.
“You can’t be more than thirty-two, whilst I am forty-six.
“Ha! You pesky juvenile! I am a towering eighty seven,” said Aragorn proudly.
“Liar!” screamed Boromir smacking Aragorn’s hair.
“Am not!” retorted Aragorn pulling away. “I am the lost king of Gondor, whilst you are merely the son of a crazy steward.”
Boromir was livid. But then, a little green man stepped out from the shadows and said with a squeaky voice, “Don’t be mad, get Glad!” then he darted away.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day when gremlins would do commercials,” sighed Aragorn sadly.
The two knuckleheads sat side by side with their heads in their hands pouting for all they were worth. Which, when added, would only amount to thirty-five cents.
Anyways, Aragorn suddenly decided to stand when he should have sat, and sat when he should have stood. Which in normal language means he did absolutely nothing.
But the Fates were uneasy that night, so they agreed to send Aragorn into that dreaded mountain of office buildings and insurance companies.
So he set out. Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir came along for the ride. The four passed through the narrow crack that led into the mountain. They traveled for long, tiring hours with no sight of the Dimholt. They finally came to a place where on a rock was mysteriously carved, This pass was made by employees, and the employers keep it. (And the employers are kept by the executives, and the executives are kept by the vice president, and the vice president is kept by the president, and the president is kept by………..himself. Hahahahahahahahahah!
Aragorn and the gang were rather creeped. But they soldiered on nonetheless.
Soon they came to an opening, and they bravely entered. When they reached a wide cavern, a voice came out and said, “Who enters into the house of congress? Huh? Speak now or forever hold your peace,” it said.
“Uh, it’s me, ah I mean it is I,” said Aragorn now grammatically correct.
“Who’s I?” asked the voice.
“The Lost King of Gondor, and um,” stuttered Aragorn nervously.
“A wimpo,” finished Legolas smirking, pleased with his warped intellect.
“Fine. Susan!” screamed the voice, that echoed throughout the cavernous grotto.
A pretty lady in about her mid forties walked up to them. She was wearing a business outfit, and was carrying what seemed to be a rather lot of paperwork.
“Welcome to the Industrial Business World of corruption, bankruptcy, and doughnuts. I hope you find your time with us pleasant and enjoyable. Please sign this form which makes sure that you are safe during you visit,” spoke the lady rapidly.
Aragorn looked at the sheet skeptically. “What does the fine print say, hum?” he asked, sticking his nose in the woman’s face.
She was rather uncomfortable. ” Fine! If you are so determined to be uncooperative, then you’re fired!” she shrieked, snatching the form from Aragorn’s hands. She left in a huff.
The four were rather flummoxed, but they continued on nonetheless. Soon, the king of the Dead appeared. He was trying rather hard to appear cool, calm, and collected, but he was really a mess. He had just broken up with his fiancé, or actually she broke up with him. She thought he was too transparent, and he had this annoying habit of vanishing whenever she wanted him to sweep the garage.
He was also fired from his job of printing off faxes because they thought that he brought a ghoulish atmosphere to the company. So the poor king, whose name was Robert but everyone called him Bertie, or Robby, was in the depths of despair when the four living people ventured upon him.
“Who enters, SNIFF, my domain? SNIFF,” snuffled kingie boy.
Boromir who was rather used to hanging with Gollum replied, “Sneaking.”
“No! We are but humble travelers, my Lord,” said Gimli bowing.
“HEY! How come you never bow to ME!” screamed Aragorn lividly.
“Because you’re a lout,” stated Legolas calmly.
“Meanyhead!” screamed Aragorn with fury.
“Think what you want,” said Legolas shrugging and strolling off.
“Where are you going?” screamed Aragorn
“I’m off to see the wizard; the wonderful wizard of OZ!” sang Leggy joyfully.
Aragorn was rather annoyed at the girly elf, and he punched the king of the Dead for revenge.
That pushed the king over the edge…….literally. He stumbled from the blow to his head, and tumbled over the edge of the cliff, and fell into a bottomless chasm.
Fortunately for him, he was a lifeless being, so therefore could not die. However, he was in such agony over his pathetic life, and was already in the depths of despair, that he thought it rather fitting to be in the depths of a cave, while he was in the depths of despair.
Aragorn shrugged, licked his ice cream cone, and sautéed down the trail.
“Waiiiiit!” shrieked Mr. Smarty-pants (Leggy). “It’s not sauté, it’s saunter!”
Oh. Whatever. Anyways, everyone else followed Arthur out into the wild blue yonder.
Boromir was wondering where Charlemagne got his ice cream, and Legolas was thinking about the best way to lather your hair. Gimli was just there.
Just as they approached the exit, King Xerxes halted. “I sense that an ice cream parlor is near.” He sniffed the ground on his hands and knees. After snuffling for a while, he looked up and pointed east. “Thata way,” and off they went.
They followed the scent for three hundred meters, and then they came upon a sea. “I see the sea, and the sea sees me, see the sea and the sea’ll see you.” sang Thutmose III.
“Freakjob,” muttered Boromir.
Aragorn hunched over, and cackled, “Be nice to your old Gran’pappy,” he crooned, sucking his teeth in. “When I was a boy…” he began, but was cut off.
“And now you’re a girl?” asked Boromir chuckling to himself.
Aragorn was fuming, but there was no time to be mad, for out of the midst and fog, loomed a ship. Not just any ship, a big ship. An ominous ship, a black ship. Boy, I’m using some good adjectives. Anyways, Aragorn gave one glance, threw himself on the ground, and curled into a ball.
Legolas rolled his eyes and gave Aragorn a sound kick in the side.
Aradumb leapt about thirty-five feet.
Gimli was in hysterics along with Boromir. Legolas shot Boromir a dark look.
“Whaaaat?” said Boromir with a whiny voice.
Leggy slugged him.
The Haradrim swiftly stopped their boats to watch the action.
They all made a pretty sight. Aragorn flying through the air, Gimli rolling on the grass like a lunatic, Boromir crying like an infant, and Legolas actually being manly.
Well this was the sight that the corsairs from Umbar saw, and saw it did they.
“What is it?” asked a raggedy soldier tugging on the captain’s sleeve(and wiping his nose in the process).
“Eeeeewww!” squealed the captain shaking the scrawny sailor off.