Aragorn sat in the tower hall, bored. He was watching Arwen sweep the floor obsessively as she muttered "A clean home is a happy home, a clean home is a happy home.." over and over again. He sighed, and sat there lost in thought until he found himself flying through the air. He fell on the ground with a "THWAP!". Looking behind him, he saw Arwen now scrubbing the throne he WAS sitting on while muttering the same cleaning nonsense. Aragorn then decided, he needed a vacation.

"A VACATION! YES! NOW I CAN BE KING!" screeched Faramir.

Aragorn looked at him. "He's too happy." he thought to himself. "I'm taking you with me." he said. Faramir looked as though he had gotten hit by a train. Faramir said "(what's a train?) But I don't want to go to Transalvania." Aragorn stared at him. "I never said anything about Transalvalia." "...oh."

The next day Aragorn packed his bag, while trying to step over Arwen, who was scrubbing the carpets. "A clean home is a happy home..." she chanted. Aragorn twitched, and went back to packing.

"NEVER!" Eowyn screamed. Faramir sat in the corner sulking. "How come I'm always in the corner? Why not HER?" he thought to himself. "I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO GO TO TRANSALVANIA!" "B-but honey," Faramir pleaded " it's for a good cause." "What cause?" "I get away from you. ...ow!" Eowyn put down the pillow. "You can go on one condition." Faramir screamed.

Forty days later...

Aragorn and Faramir began anxiously approaching their destination, which was good because their horses hadn't experienced such a long journey in a while and were kinda fat. "Look lackey!", exclaimed Aragorn, getting off his horse, "We're here!" He pointed to the sign - "WELCOME TOO THE SHIIREE" "Uhhh, Aragorn..." said Faramir, "This isn't Tranvalvania." "Oh of course it is! Look at all the midgets!" Aragorn yelled. "Aragorn, there's no one there." Faramir said, rubbing his temples. "ONWARD!" Aragorn screeched, kicking his horse. "NIIIIIII!" the horse said, running in the opposite direction.

"Aragorn, why'd you have to scare away Lumpy? Now you have to walk" Faramir said with exasperation.

"Oh no I don't" Aragorn cackled. He kicked Dumpy, scaring him away and turned to Faramir. "Now, carry me!"

Farmir gasped and wheezed as he carried the king through the deserted "Transalvania". It had a striking resemblance to the Shire, thought Faramir. As the king was carried he looked at all the pretty trees and green hills and green water- ew, green water- of "Transalvania". As they went on, however, they noticed that the water was no longer green, but black, and the once-green trees were withered and under attack from scary, scary birds. Faramir gulped. Aragorn sang.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! THE TREES ARE BLACK AS THE SKYYYYYYYY! AND THE BIRDS CANT WAIT 'TIL WE DIIIIIE! THEY'LL PICK OUR BONES 'TIL THEY'RE CLEAN AND DRYYYYYYY! LA LALAL A LALA..."

Then they heard it. "Cood it bee?" "Si, yes-r-ee." "What was that?" Faramir hissed. "LAL ALALAL ALA L..." Aragorn sang. Faramir continued at a faster pace. Then he heard more strange utterances. "They came, they did, to steal the aulves." "HIDE THE AULVES!" Faramir's blood ran cold. "What the hell was that?" he thought to himself.

"LLLA LAALA LAL THEY'LL EAT US AND GORGE THEM-SELVES ON OUR BLOOD! LALA..."

Another noise made Faramir break out into a full run. He ran and ran and ran and ran until he realized he had dropped Aragorn quite a while ago. "Oh dear." he said to himself. He heard more noises. "OH WELL!" he yelled and was about to take off again when he heard an oh-so-familiar "FARAMIR YOU DEADBEAT DRUNKEN BASTARD!" Aragorn was back to normal.

"WHY'D YOU DROP ME!" Aragorn demanded. Faramir's response of "THE VOICES!" didn't make Aragorn feel any better. Aragorn sighed. "At least lets get out of these woods. Aragorn walked through some bushes and Faramir was folloing until ... "ABJKDGUB!" Faramir's screech of pain could be heard. Aragorn kept going. Faramir, decided that it was in his head, along with the voices. He kept going.

The found themselves in a clearing with only one small dirt road and a bush. As they walked past the bush, a large, club-like stick fell down onto Faramir's unsuspecting back. "ABJKDGUB!" Faramir yelled in suprise. He buckled over, and the stick hit him again as he fell, and continued to whack him as he lay on the ground.

"Oy." said Aragorn, still walking, "hurry up." Another "ABJKDGUB!" made him turn around. "AHH! STICK DEMON! STICK DEMON!" He charged foward and pulled the demon from the bush, knowing that only oxygen can kill it (Gondorian folklore is kinda strange)

"BEHOLD FARAMIR, THE STICK DEMON!" Aragorn shouted triumphantly, holding Pippin by the ankle. Farmir inspected the "demon" and after a few minutes came to a more accuate conclusion. "It's Pippin." Aragorn's grin faded. "Pippin?" he asked, shaking the "demon". "GLAAAA!" the "demon" shrieked in terror. Aragorn yelped and droped him. "Quick Faramir! It's trying to put a hex on us! Save yourself!"

Faramir just stood there. "RUN FARAMIR RUN!" Aragorn screeched, the flailing Pippin still in his grip. "But-" "RUN."

Faramir decided to do as he said. He ran, not very far mind you, but he ran nonetheless. From the distance of five-and-a-quarter feet he saw Pippin struggling to get free and Aragorn "trying to vanquish the demon".

"Aragorn, it's Pippin." Faramir sighed, grabbing the scared hobbit from the monarch and placing it on the ground. Aragorn ignored him. "IT'S PIPPIN." "Nuh-uh." said Aragorn, eyes still fixed on the "demon". Farmir turned to the hobbit. "Are you Pippin?" "Yes." "SEE ARAGORN?" Faramir said, exasperated. "LIES!" Aragorn yelled back. "I AM Pippin" Pippin said,glaring, "and I got the scar to prove it."

(AND THE FLASHBACK BEGINS)

About a year before this whole fiasco, Pippin invited Aragorn to a sleep-over party at Bag End.

Bad idea.

About ten minutes in, Aragorn had completely destroyed the kitchen and half of the library. When asked "What the happened?" he replied "It slipped."

Then, at around 7:00 pm, Aragorn had the bright idea of an "Xtreme Pillow Fight". Little did the hobbits know that concealed in Aragorn's pillowcase was not a pillow, but a rock. Merry can never go into Frodo's bedroom without flinching and rubbing his head now...

And finally, at 8:30 pm, Aragorn accidently burnt Pippin with Frodo's curling iron. Oddly enough, the scar looked like Eowyn in a one-piece.

(AND THE FLASHBACK-TYPE-THING ENDS)

Lo and behold, there it was! The frightning-to-anyone-who-isn't-Faramir scar! Right on Pippin's shoulder blade.

"Ew." said Aragorn.

"HEY," said Faramir. "THAT'S MY WIFE YOU'RE "EW"ING AT!"

"So?" "...nevermind...anyway, see? It IS Pippin." He turned to Pippin and smiled...until he remembered the stick.