Aragorn finds a pile of horse dookie. He gets bored and pokes it with his sword. It jiggles lightly and he runs in fright. An hour later he flees back to the scene and pokes it. This time Anduril sticks in the dookie. Aragorn, once again, runs away. Three hours later, he comes back and kicks the dookie. It flies all over the place and hits Gandalf's new, prettiful, white robe. Gandalf gets angry and shoots Aragorn, turning him into a sexeh frog. Gandalf is very anguished at the loss of his new white robe, so he decides to turn Aragorn into a not-so-sexeh frog.
Aragorn, now a not sexeh frog anymore, slinks away dejectedly. Gandalf smiles and walks away. Gimli walks up and starts talking to him, spitting all over his robe, as Dwarves do.
Gandalf gets all pissed.
He raises his staff and draws his sword. He taps Gimli's foot with his sword and the dwarf is, if at all possible, made even shorter. Gandalf smiles and smacks Gimli with his staff, turning him into a hideous, ugly, putrid, stinky, pustule of death from the bowel's of a cow's flatulent intestines. It stinks. Really bad.
After a while, Legolas walks up and looks at Gandalf like he's a cow's anus. At a second glance, he instead thinks of Gandalf as a cow's biological waste product. He grins and before he can open his pretty little mouth, Gandalf bee-hotch slaps him with his staff, turning his prettiful teeth into wooden dentures, sticking out at various ways. Legolas breaks down and cries and Gandalf slaps him again with his staff, turning his head into a monkey with wooden teeth and no nostrils. And I'm not saying it's just the monkey's head on Lego's neck.
Legolas is sad. Gandalf is happy. Gimli is stinky. Gandalf is happy. Aragorn is a ribbit-ribbit frog. Gandalf is happy.
Gandalf starts to walk away but falls down and breaks his hip. Because he is old. Very old. He lies on the ground for a month, then dies from poopie stink and maybe thirtsiness.