The Nazgul flew off after it’s beast had been pierced by the ranger’s well-aimed arrow, swearing as it did. It would have to tell its master that it had failed, and the great eye’s wrath would be terrible, or boring, or stupid, either way he didn’t want to know.

“Hey,” it said to the fell beast, “if anyone asks, we never saw the hobbit with the ring, ok?”

“Why should I help you,” it asked, “after all, I got shot.”

“I’ll let you gnaw on an oliphaunt.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Meanwhile, Sam had tackled Frodo and was busy tumbling down the steps off the battlements, which was way more fun than it looked. That is, until they hit the bottem and Frodo pulled his knife on him, which was confusing cause Sam was sure their weapons had been taken away.

Sam just lay their though, afraid that if he moved his crazed employer would skewer him.

“Now, look Mr. Frodo, you don’t want to do this, I mean, if you kill me you won’t have a gardener.”

Frodo was still glaring at him, his sword hadn’t moved.

“No one will want to work for you after you kill your gardener, think about it.”

Frodo winced slightly, then he looked upset, then he just looked tired as he groaned and sat back, letting Sam up.

“This blows Sam,” he said, defeated.

“Yes, Mr. Frodo,” Sam answered, getting up, “it does. By all rights, we shouldn’t be here, we should be at home, getting smashed, chatting up the ladies, living the fun Hobbit bacherlor life. But instead here we are, dragging our sorry asses through mayham and death and war, and yes Mr. Frodo, this is the very definition of blows.”

Sam then got up, and looked at the sky, “But we are here, and we have to keep going, because while there is still breath in our bodies, there is HOPE! Hope that we will beat tyrrany,” at this he shook his fist at the sky, “hope that we will live in a future, free of fear! Free of sadness! Yes Mr. Frodo, I believe in our cause! I believe that if we stick to it, we will be triumphant! And I believe,” he said with passion and fury, “that for every drop of rain that falls….a flower grows! And with that flower springs new life! And with that new life-”

“Shut up Sam!”

“Ok,” he said, sitting down next to Frodo.

Faramir, who had been standing a few feet away and watching this, came over.

“Thank you for shutting him up,” he said, “I am sorry I have been such an ass, you’re free to go.”

“Really?” asked Frodo.

“Yeah sure,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I didn’t want you guys hanging around me anyways. Especially if you keep making speeches like that.”

“Excellent!” Frodo and Sam got up and grabbed their guide and made ready to move out.

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed the dude in charge, who came up and pointed ar Faramir, “if you let them go, your life is forfeit!”

Faramir snickered, “Yeah, I’d like to see the senile bastard try.”

Dude in charge scowled at him, “Faramir, I won’t let you get away with this one, if you let them go, I will personally make sure punishment is exacted.”

“No you won’t.”

“Oh yes I will-”

Faramir knocked him out with a well-placed punch.

“Right,” he said, “you guys,” he said pointing to Frodo and Sam, “get out of here before I change my mind.”

Frodo looked up, nodded and then he and his party skedadled out of there.

“So,” Faramir said, turning to his men, “I’ll tell you guys what, we just won’t mention that we saw the hobbit with the ring.”

The End.