Sméagol's Sinister Scheme

Master and the fat hobbit toss their bags on the ground, and they flops down.

"Come, hobbitses, must hurry! No time to lose! Weeses knows the way, yes we does,

Precious!" We chuckles to ourselves.

"Oh yes we does, Precious, yes we does."

The fat hobbit looks up and glares at us. "Alright, alright, keep your shirt on," he says

to us.

We snarls at him. "We doesn't wear a shirt! And we must go, you fat, foolish hobbit!"

We spits at him.

"Now see here, you sneak. I've about had it with you and your rushing us all the time.

Poor Mr. Frodo doesn't have the energy to-"

"Leave him alone, Sam." Master says to the fat one. "He knows what dangers are here.

We don't."

The fat one backs down. "Jus' sayin', Mr. Frodo." he mutters.

"Must go," weeses says, "must go now!"

Master sighs. The fat one helps him up. We goes along ahead to see if there's is any

dangers.

No dangers. We waits for the hobbitses, yes.

Gollum says to us, "We could lead them to her and be rid of them."

We covers our ears. "Not listening."

"And after she eats them, Precious, we coulds get it back, our birthday present."

"Not listening! Leave us alone!"

"And weeses could forget all about these nasty hobbitses when weeses gets it back,

my love."

"But Master is nice. We wouldn't want to hurt Master."

"Ah, but, Precious, we wouldn't have to. We could get her to do it for us. She hasn't

eaten anything but nasty orcses for a long time."

Suddenly, Master and the fat hobbit comes around the corner. Gollum leaves us alone

then.

Weeses walks for a long, long time, then, when all is dark, the fat one says, "That's it,

Sméagol. We can't go on any further tonight, even if you can."

We is about to snap at him, when we sees that Master has fallen on the ground and is

moaning.

We gives a huff. "Fine, Precious. But hobbits must wake up early in the morning!"

The fat one nods at us and says to Master, "You can sleep, Mr. Frodo. I'll keep

watch."

The Master gives him a grateful smile and then he falls asleep. The fat one gives us a

cold look, but he keeps his mouth shut.

We grumbles to ourself about the fat one. "We doesn't like him. He's dippy and mean.

He slows us down with his pots and pans. Walks too slow. Always wants to stop when

there's still light out. Never-"

"I can hear you, you know." The fat one is talking. "Now be quiet, or Mr. Frodo won't

get no sleep!"

We snarls. We goes down to the stream to catch us a nice, juicy fish. We doesn't have

to wait long. We sees a big tasty one and we snatches it up.

As we eats it we sings to ourself,

"A fish, so lovely cold and sweet,

We will smash it with our feet.

It wiggles around to get away,

But we won't let it go astray,

We eats our fish, so nice and raw,

We snatches a bird that wees saw.

Hobbitses eat taters,

Nasty Elves…"

Here we stops and snarls,

"Nasty Elves eat wheat,

Dwarves like meat,

But the only thing for Smeeeea-gooooool,

Is nice raw fish, so juicy sweet."

"Oy, what're you doing down here?"

We rolls our eyes. It's the fat one.

"You're going to wake up Mr. Frodo if you keep screeching like that!"

Weeses bares our teeth at him "Weeses wasn't screeching, we was singing." We sniffs.

"The fat hobbit doesn't appreciate good singing!"

"Oh, I've heard good singing, and it sure didn't come from you."

Then, he isn't looking at us any more. He stares off to somewhere else.

"When the elves sing, now that's some good singing."

We snarls. "We doesn't like elves, Precious. Does we? Elves are nasty, mean."

Then the fat one gets mad at us.

"Now you see here!" he says to us. "You don't like me, you don't like orcs, and you

don't like elves! And if you don't like elves, you must not like anything!"

We hiss. "Except fish, Precious." We pause. "And crunchable birds."

"You don't care about anything but fish! And crunchable birds! I bet you wouldn't

mind a bit if we fell down a cliff, or fell into a river and drownded! You'd be happier off

without us." He narrows his eyeballs at us. "And I be much happier too, without you

hanging around here."

That, Precious, was the last straw for poor Sméagol.

We hurls a rock at him. But the fat one is faster than he looks, Precious. He whirls

around and he pulls out a sword. Weeses stops and screeches. The fat one thrusts his

sword at us.

"Ha!" he yells. "Take that! And that!"

We scrambles out of the way just in time.

Just then the Master runs up and grabs the fat one's arm and tries to wrench the sword

out of his hand. But the fat one is stronger than he looks as well, Precious.

"Sam! Stop it! What are you doing?!"

The fat one still fights to keep his grip on the sword.

"Mr. Frodo, he threw a rock at me! If I hadn't moved, he would've gouged out my

eye!"

The Master finally yanks the sword out of the fat one's hand.

"Enough, Sam!" The Master says. He looks at us. "Why did you try to hurt Sam?"

We thinks quickly.

"What? Hurt the nice hobbitses? Why would Sméagol want to do that? We thought we

saw an orcses, but it was just a shadow. Nothing but a shadow."

We looks pleadingly at Master.

"Master must trust us."

The fat one looks at Master.

"Don't trust 'im, Mr. Frodo. He's out to get me, and you too!"

The Master sighs, and for a moment we pity him. "They're like toddlers," he grumbles.

Then we doesn't pity him any more.

He looks at us. "Come, Sméagol."

He looks at the fat one. " You can sleep now, Sam. I'll keep watch."

"But Mr. Frodo-"

"Sam. Go on. I need to talk with Sméagol."

The fat one walks off. When he gets to the hobbitses bags, he looks back. He shakes

his head and he flops down.

Master looks after him for a moment, then turns back to us. He looks us in the

eyeballs.

"Now, look here, Sméagol. I want to believe the best about you, but Sam keeps

insisting that you're 'out to get us'." He heaves a sigh. "But you're the only one who

knows how to get to Mordor. I'll make sure Sam leaves you alone, at least for the most

part, if you can just get us to Morder without getting any of us killed. Deal?"

We thinks for a moment.

Master gives a small smile. "I understand."

Our head pops up. Our eyeballs bulge out. "Master knows our plan?"

Master looks confused. "Plan…?" But then he smiles. "Of course I know the plan.

You're going to help us find the way into Mordor, then leave us alone (thank goodness),

whoops, did I say that out loud? Then we will travel up Mount Doom, and I," He pauses

for dramatic affect, and when he speaks again, he shouts: "will throw the Ring in Mt.

Doom, and save us all!"

Then we realizes Master is completely nutty.

"The plan to get the nice hobbits safely into Mordor!" We says quickly.

But then he says, "I suppose you can't promise to get us to Mordor safely. After all,

there are many dangers there, some that even you don't know about."

Master stares at the mountains. Weeses can see them in the distance. He is silent for a

moment, then he speaks, softly to himself, but we can hear him.

"…don't know of the dangers we'll come across. Didn't know of the dangers there.

Tried to hide, but he found me. Stabbed me…" His hand strays up to his left shoulder.

We looks at Master. He isn't making sense.

We gives a small hiss, and Master comes back to his senses. He looks at us. "You

probably think I'm cracked."

We gives our head a tilt. Well… But we says, "Master? Cracked? Of course not!

Master is nice… sane hobbit."

Master says, "You'll want some sleep, I suppose. Go on, I'll keep watch." He shudders. "And

hope that the Throgger doesn't get me again!"

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