Disclaimer: Own Lord of the Rings, Spongebob, and Monty Python I do not. Geek I am. Tell you can. Read this you must, for funny it is.

Hi! I'm coughkouichicough's older sister. This is a story I actually wrote a long time ago. It was posted on here for a while. I took it down because there were a few things I wanted to fix. It was actually inspired by my little brother's alarm clock. You see, it plays the Spongebob Squarepants theme. A while ago, on a Sunday, he set it to five-thirty in the morning. And it went off at an obnoxiously loud volume normally reserved for the first few notes of John Williams music at the beginning of Star Wars in the theater. And he let it run and run and run and run. I honestly think that it didn't wake him up, which is acually not surprising. He, and my sister, slept through an earthquake that was a 6.5 on the Richter scale.

Not joking.

Sooo...I hope this story is ok.

The Alarmclock of Doom

Chapter One

The air above Gondor was still and silent as the moments before creation, the stars glimmering in the sacred darkness of the night, now free, for a little while, from terror. That night lay gently upon Minas Tirith, where all but the night guard slept. Not a sound broke the stillness, but for the cries of babes awake in the night, too young to sleep through it, and so the city was silent; a rider who passed it by could have taken it for a city deserted long ago, so silent and dark it was, lulled by the peace that had followed the destruction of the ring.

Suddenly a cry rent the air like an asassin's dagger, like a Morgul blade, more terrible than the cry of the Nazgul lord, which strikes the greatest terror into the very souls of nearly all who hear it. It caused the stars to shine less brightly, as if they sought to hide. It seared the very air...

"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS! and yellow and porous is he! SPONGEBOB SQUARE--"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, king of Gondor of the line of Earendil, awoke screaming and fell out of bed. He gazed around wildly for the source of the awful cry, for it was in his room. And upon his nightstand, he found it.

The fiendish shape stood upon two spindly legs that looked as if they could not support its weight, or anything else, and it wore a horrible combination of square pants and a tie that surely was from the 80's, that decade which lies in the abyss of horrible fashions. Its color was a noxious yellow, and it was full of gaping holes, like someone had once tried to eat it. Its mouth was set in a maniacal grin, two enormous buck teeth, like the tusks of a Mumakil, protruding from its top lip, but worst of all were its eyes. Wide and round as dishes they mercilessly forward at nothing, vacant, and Aragorn knew that those eyes would never blink. It was the very quintessence of evil.

Aragorn hit the snooze button hoping to silence it.

Nothing happened.

He hit it again, but to no avail, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, until the button got stuck down...

"Who lives in a pinapple under the s--"

"Arwen!" Aragorn yelled helplessly, hoping that his wife would, as she always did know what to do, know how to work this apparently technologically complicated alarm clock, "Arwen, I really need some he--". He stopped in midsentence because, apparently, she was still asleep. He stared and considered wether it would be more conducive to his staying alive to wake her or to let her sleep and listen to the incessant din of the alarm clock.

About five seconds of listening to the fiendish alarm clock made his desicion.

"Hey Arwen," hesaid, poking her, "uh, Arwen...Ary-warry-wenny-enny-elfy-woo...wake up pppllleeeaaassee..."

Eventually he had to resort to jumping on the bed, which woke her up. It woke her up slowly, but it did wake her up. She groaned, glared at him for a few moments, and then threw a pillow at him. For the second time in one night, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor descended from the kings of Numenor and the greatest heroes of both Elves and Men, fell out of bed.

"Why did you wake me up," Arwen grumbled.

"I needed some help," he said, showing the still-blaring alarm clock at her, and wincing, "It won't shut--"

"Oh, you found the alarm clock I got for you!" she squealed, delighted. Aragorn just stared and looked remarkably like a fish for a few moments before responding.

"You got for me?" he asked.

"Yes. So you wouldn't sleep in anymore, she said.

Aragorn looked out the window at the still dark sky that showed no hope of the sun coming up anytime soon.

It was remarkable how pleased with herself Arwen could look.

"Well, if you need me, I'll be downstairs," Arwen said suddenly as she got up and walked out the door. Aragorn ran after her and called, "How do you shut it off," down the hallway.

"Just press the snooze button!" Arwen called back.

Aragorn shuddered. He was alone with that menace, the alarm clock. He had pressed the snooze button, and the off button, and a wierd little button that wasn't labeled and apparently didn't do anything, but still it belted out its horrific song.

"Who live in a pineapple under the sea! SPON--".

He jumped up and down on top of it. Nothing happened. He dunked it in a fountain. Nothing happend. He threw it against a bedpost. Nothing happend.

Howling, he lifted the horrible alarm clock and smashed it with all his strength against the wall. All he succeeded in doing was putting a large square hole in the granite and alabaster, and making the alarm clock play louder.

"WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA! SPONGEBOB SQUARE--"

"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH! SHUT UP! CEASE AND DESIST! SILENT SESAMI OR SOMETHING!" he thundered in agony. He kicked the alarm clock as far as he could, over and over, until he reached the edge of the battlement. There, panting, he began to laugh.

"You may triumph in your field, for a day," he sneered at the alarm clock, "But against my power you have no victory! MWAHAHAHAHA! I am king, after all," he said, to assure himself. He strode up to one f the guards posted by the white tree (who was currently grumbling about getting the nightshift) and smiled. One of his eyes was twitching as he asked the guard for a favor.

"What, my lord?" the guard asked, backing away just in case the king decided to lunge at him. Aragorn made his demand in the most terrible voice he had ever used.

"Bring wood and oil!"

Needless to say, the guard fulfilled this request as fast as he could. Unfortunately, his ceremonial plate armor did not bend all that far, and so he tripped several times, having to wait, each time, like a turtle, for someone to come and help him up.

By the time Aragorn had the wood and oil brought to him the sun had risen. He built a pyre right on the battlement, dousing it with oil. A few people stared as he lifted a torch, threw back his head, and laughed like a maniac. They shook their heads and muttered to themselves, "Looks like the pressure's already setting in. His mind is burning, already burning."

"I gave you the chance of shutting off willingly!" Aragorn bellowed at the alarm clock, which as still playing its dreadful song, "but you-have elected-the way of-PAIN!"

With a might cry he began to throw the torch down, but something made him hold his hand back.

"To be doing that you do not want," said a voice in his head.

Oh, I really think I do, Aragorn's thought's answered.

"Anger. Fear. Oppresion. The Dark Side are they," the voice said.

Aragorn was getting tired of holding the torch in the air. Whoever you are, buzz off and get out of my head. I think you're in the wrong story.

"If burn it you do then continue to play it will. Never free of its torment will you be. Forever will it dominate your destiny," The voice whispered urgently, fading away, never to be heard again.

"Not if anything to say about it, I HAVE!" Aragorn yelled out loud. I must be going crazy, he thought, that was really weird. Oh well.

"Elendil!" he cried, and he plunged the torch into the heart of the pyre. After that he sat down and hummed contentedly to himself, sure that the alarm clock would be silenced for good. Well...the best laid plans of mice and men...

It was a few hours later when Aragorn fell to his knees in horror. After the fire had burned out, after the alarmclock was just a smouldering pile of twisted plastic, that evil cry still rang through the air, louder than ever before.

"NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! EEEEELLLLLLLLEEEEEEEENNNNDDDIIILLLLLLLL!"

He kicked what was left of the alarm clock right off the battlement and ran to look at the ground, where it landed, seven-hundred feet below, forming a miniature mushroom cloud where it fell.

Aragorn raced down to where it had fallen. If he had run that fast when he was tracking that band of Uruk-hai, he might have actually caught them. Of course, falling seven-hundred feet had done nothing to the alarm clock, though it lay in a small crater, as Aragorn realized when he got close.

"WWHHOO LLIIVVEESS IINN--"

That was it. It could be said that on that day Aragorn snapped. He took out his sword and commenced hacking at the fiend, drawing the attention of a young man named Bergil who decided to actually approach the king.

"Um, my lord, are you o--"

"SWALLOWS!" Aragorn yelled.

"W-what?" Bergil asked slowly. He took a step backward.

"Send out the swallows with letters! I need the rest of the felowship here. NOW!"

"Ah," Bergil said, "African, or European?"

Aragorn lifted his sword several inches and stared.

"Um...ok...laden, or unladen?"

"In the name of all that is holy,with WHAT?"

Bergil chewed his tongue for a moment before answering, "Why, with coconuts of course!"

Aragorn glared at him. "Please tell me that you did not seriously just ask that question," he said threateningly. He raised Anduril high above his head and sent Bergil running for the messenger swallows (apparrently they hadn't heard of pidgeons yet), and hacked away at the fiendinsh alarm clock.

"WHO LIVES IN A PINEAPPLE UNDER THE SEA! SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!"