Hello, I'm your average American teenage writing turtle, Ebba. I am following in the footsteps of other illustrious Lord of the Rings parody writers.

Disclaimer: I didn't write the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, all characters and likenesses are purely copyrighted to J.R.R. Tolkien. All other characters are mine.


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The Urban Havens


Still round the corner there may wait
A highway or an interstate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
Today, in my Escort, at last shall I
Take the asphalt paths that run
West of Milwaukee, East of Madison.


And so it came to pass. The Fellowship lingered on, through each age. Days became weeks, weeks became months, months became years, and years became centuries... and eventually, the much-changed members of the Fellowship found themselves in a small pink cottage in the Wisconsin town of Wauwatosa in the year 2003.

GOOD MORNING, Wauwatosa! came the DJ's pathetic attempt to mimic Robin Williams. It's 6:30, and time to roll out of those beds and into the usual morning workplace traffic jam. DJ Steve here, and boy, do I have a great set of long-lost classics lined up for you folks this morning. Let's kick off the long set with some Styx by request-

But what D.J. Steve had to say next, Aragorn would never know. On hearing the word Styx' he had reached under his bed for Elendil and hacked the radio alarm into pieces so small, it may have been reduced to its molecular components.

The door to his room opened, and Gimli and Legolas entered. Legolas was wearing a long scarlet-colored silk bathrobe and fluffy slippers. Gimli was already dressed in his work clothes: brown UPS regulation scrubs. His axe was hanging out of a belt loop.

Legolas sighed, tapping a fluffy foot impatiently. That's the third alarm this week.

Aragorn grunted from somewhere beneath the many sheets.

Legolas and Gimli nodded at each other, and proceeded with the usual awakening procedure. They both grabbed one of Aragorn's hairy legs, and yanked. Aragorn had sensed this, and had already latched himself onto the headboard. After much tussling, Gimli and Legolas won, and Aragorn slid out of his bed, with his head dragging along the carpet.

Aragorn stood up and yawned, his face glowing with carpet burn. he said simply, scratching at various bits of his anatomy.

Frodo's makin' it, Gimli announced.

Aragorn twitched involuntarily. He is? But he hasn't cooked since that Nero and Britannicus incident. Remember that turnout?

Well, Nero seemed pleased with it, Legolas shrugged.

Aragorn yawned again, and dug around on the floor for his work clothes, while Legolas and Gimli went out to wake up the remaining hobbits.

The sleepy members of the Fellowship wandered into the kitchen where Frodo was busy making breakfast. A slight smell of curry hung in the air. Something green and frothy was bubbling happily out of a crock pot.

Frodo, if I may ask... what's for breakfast? asked Sam, sitting down at the table.



Sam peered at the green frothy liquid. Have we been reading Dr. Seuss lately? he asked Frodo, curiously.

Frodo didn't answer. He grabbed a wooden spoon and poked at the gas burner underneath the frying pan, causing it to catch fire. He yelped in alarm, and then attempted to stick it down in the bubbling green froth to douse the flames.

Frodo had never been a good cook, but he had never yet added flammable ingredients to his culinary creations. So today Frodo's cooking marked an event so horrible that even Julia Child could not ignore the severity of it. The first green, frothy, and explosive chicken embryo delish', which exploded with such gusto that time seemed to stand still for a fraction of a second.

The Fellowship sat blinking out bits of green goo from their eyes. Gimli lovingly wiped his axe clean with a corner of his UPS uniform. Pippin scooped up a bit of the goo with his finger and tasted it.

he said. Ah think you added a wee bit too much orange peel, thoh.

I didn't add orange peel, Frodo said, baffled.

Ah, thah' would explain the missing Metamucil, then, Merry said, shaking the empty cylindrical carton. Pippin spat out his mouthful of food onto the floor.

After much bickering between Frodo and Sam about who was going to clean up, Sam finally surrendered and went for a mop. The employed members of the Fellowship trodded upstairs to put on their work clothes and then head to work.

Legolas, wearing his nursing scrubs, climbed into Aragorn's Ford Escort. Aragorn followed, wearing his lumberjack attire: only the best in flannel, denim, and knee-high galoshes. Pippin and Merry tumbled into the backseat, clad in their blue Walmart vests. Gimli revved up his gigantic UPS van, and stepped on the acceleration pedal, which had a large wooden block duct taped to it, to compensate for Gimli's height.

Frodo came back downstairs to a slightly put-out Sam. He was fighting with a particularly stubborn clod of egg stuck to the ceiling fan.

Sam? Would you like me to help?

Sam said, narrowing his eyes at the hobbit.

Are you sure? I'm sure there's another mop in the linen clos- hey, have you seen Gandalf? asked Frodo suddenly.

The only reason he remembered his wizard friend was due to the fact that Gandalf lived in the linen closet. The last couple of thousand years had not been nice to Gandalf. The white wizard had taken to the bottle and the bong. He still was extremely powerful, but he used his magic in different ways now. His favorite game was lift-the-skirt-of-a-passing-woman'.

Frodo went up to the linen closet and rapped on the door.

No answer. Frodo decided to live for the moment and he pulled open the door. A cloud of smoke that smelled of cheap cigarettes and alcohol fumes wafted out. Once Frodo regained his eyesight, he peered into the tiny closet.

The Home Shopping Network was playing on the black-and-white television, and Gandalf's threadbare La-Z-Boy was in its usual reclined position. Empty beer cans and bottles of Corona were strewn on the small bare patch of the floor between the recliner and television. Several of Gandalf's usual assortment of dirty magazines were spread out across the floor, also. Gandalf's favorite bong (the one shaped like Ida Lupino's rack) was lying on the recliner, unattended.

Frodo began to sweat, not from the dizzying fumes, but from the fact that he knew Gandalf never left his favorite bong unattended. Frodo felt a sharp jab between his shoulder blades, and he suddenly found himself hanging upside down in midair, facing the wizened face of Gandalf.

Have you seen it? growled Gandalf.

Seen what? said Frodo, almost feeling the rush of blood to his head.

Where did you put it?

Put what? Frodo whined, crossing his arms, still hanging upside down.

The remote, you ball of putrid rectal fungus! Give it to me! snarled Gandalf, allowing Frodo to drop back to earth and land hard on his head.

Frodo knew better than to argue with Gandalf that no, he hadn't stolen the remote. He stood up and trudged to the Hobbits' room, knowing that either Pippin or Merry had probably stolen it as a joke. He found it hidden in Pippin's pillowcase and went back to the linen closet to return it to Gandalf.

Gandalf snatched it out of his hands and retreated to the closet, slamming the door after him. Frodo rolled his eyes, and then yelled through the door, Have you got a spare mop in there?

For a minute, Frodo was sure that Gandalf had not heard him or was just ignoring him. But as soon as he had opened his mouth to repeat his question, the spare mop popped out of the closet and hit Frodo square between the eyes.

Frodo regained consciousness in record time: seventeen minutes and twenty six seconds, and remembered why he was holding a mop in less than half an hour. He trudged back downstairs to help Sam with the (already finished) cleaning up.

_____

At exactly six minutes to five, Gimli's large UPS van screeched into the driveway and ran over Sam's prized irises. Carrying his axe limply at his side, Gimli slouched into the living room where Frodo and Sam were watching cartoons. Gandalf had joined them, after he had discovered cartoons to be 10 times funnier when he was drunk.

Good day at work, Gimli? asked Sam politely.

Gimli made a rather rude and violent gesture with his axe.

Sam nodded knowingly and turned back to the Captain Kangaroo marathon on PBS.

After about a half an hour, Aragorn's Escort pulled into the garage and the remaining members of the Fellowship entered after long and tiring days of work.

Sam went into the kitchen to prepare some He-Man TV dinners, while Frodo inquired about everybody's day at the workplace.

It was a complete and utter disaster, groaned Aragorn. Jake almost sliced my hand off in the wood chipper today. Then I lost my pair of goggles, and had to improvise using Hank's bifocals.

Legolas clicked his tongue in amusement. You think that's bad? I was working in reception today. It's the beginning of deer season, so naturally... we were very busy. Three people made fun of my ears, seventeen children tried to pull my hair, and eight and a half women offered sexual favors of me.

Eight an' a half? grunted Gimli. How can you get 8.5 women?

Well, I wasn't sure, said Legolas. Is I'll schizzle your nizzle' considered a pick-up line?



Then nine, sighed Legolas, lying back with his fingers massaging his temples.

What about you two? asked Frodo, turning to Merry and Pippin.

Pippin and Merry grinned maliciously. Frodo noticed that they weren't wearing their blue vests and yellow happy-face pins anymore. Frodo considered this, and then the sudden realization hit him. You were fired AGAIN? he moaned.

Nae, PIPPIN was the one who got fired. Ah just was blamed for being his relative, Merry nodded, smiling happily. Both of them seemed rather smug.

What did you do this time? asked Aragorn.

Pippin cleared his throat. Well, yah know how the police come every month teh check on the security measures and similar?

said Aragorn gruffly, not liking how this story was starting.

continued Pippin, Ah thought it would be great fun to loch the cops into one of the women's dressing rooms.

You didn't! cried Legolas.

Nae, ah loocked him in a grocery freezer unit, said Pippin. Et was bloody brilliant to see the looch on mae boss's face... and on the policeman's face... and on the customers' faces...

Pippin, how asinine of you, said Legolas, using one of his new vocabulary words from his day-by-day calendar. Not only did you get in trouble with the law enforcement, you got Merry fired, too.

Ah daen't mind. Wallyworld is bloody Auschwitz, Merry chimed in.

You're a Union member, you hypocrite!

Ah knae, the A.L.A. was giving oot free brownies, you see...

Aragorn and Merry began to fight about ethics and morals and labor Unions, while the rest of the Fellowship directed their attention to the television, which Gandalf had just turned up the volume on. Sam came in with the TV dinners, but decided not to interrupt Merry and Aragorn's debate with their dinners.

Ahh... The Big Comfy Couch. A personal favorite, said Gimli, settling himself down on his chair next to his axe.

I've never understood it much, myself, said Frodo. I don't understand where Molly and Loonette find the initiative to visit Loonette's grandmother every single day. And especially with her failing health and all...

She's not sick, Frodo, those are freckles, Sam casually mentioned.

Frodo stared at the face of the clown on the screen for a few seconds. He narrowed his eyes and grabbed the TV guide. he announced. Crossing Over is on, let's watch that, he said loudly, changing the subject to hide his stupidity from Sam.

The Sci-Fi channel did happen to be on Gandalf's list of acceptable television stations, along with Fox, Animal Planet, BET, and for some odd reason, the History Channel. Gandalf picked up the remote and flipped to channel 52.

Now, let's go over to the viewing audience. I sense that somebody over on... The host made wild frantic movements with his hands and muttered nonsense under his breath. ...THIS side of the room has recently lost a dearly loved aunt, twice removed on his mother's side...

Aragorn and Merry sensed their third favorite show and calmed down.

_____

PRECIOUSSSSS! We wants it! Gives it to ussss, filthy little hobbitses!



It was a cloudy weekend. Pippin and Merry were enjoying sleeping in until 5 P.M. Gimli was taking his annual shower. Sam was watering the hydrangeas, and Gandalf had locked himself in the linen closet.

shouted Legolas up the staircase again. Why didn't you TELL me it was that time of month?

NASTY SHE-ELF WANTS IT, Precioussssss!

Watch who you're calling a she-elf, Frodo! yelled Legolas at the small hobbit that was currently crouched, Gollum-like, behind the washing machine.

Frodo was a perfectly normal hobbit, 75% of the time. He enjoyed helping Sam with the cleaning up. He collected Playmobil toys. He enjoyed break dancing with Merry and Pippin. He also had PRT, more commonly known to the Fellowship as Post-Ringbearing Trauma.

For about a week, every single month, he would fall back into routines similar to Gollum's. He began to predict the return of Saruman. He made nests in small niches of the house and fill them with shiny objects. He would attack random members of the Fellowship for no apparent reason. He started to slur his s's uncontrollably. He began become schitzofrenic, and talk as if he had a second side, which he did, that Gandalf had sportingly dubbed .

Frodo's PRT could be scheduled, however. Every first week of the month, it came, as if in a downpour. Aragorn was the only one who could stop him from violently attacking random people. Mrs. Fields was the only one who could get him to shut up.

Legolas said, stomping up the stairs.



Legolas kicked open the door to Aragorn's room, and found Aragorn snoring, a little too loudly to be entirely plausible, tangled up on the several twisted sheets of his bed.

I know you're awake, Aragorn. You've got to come downstairs and sort out Frodo. He's crouched down behind the washer and he threatened me with a welding mallet, Legolas said, crossing his arms.

Aragorn grunted and flopped out of bed and onto the floor. He stood up, his face and arms red from another morning dosage of carpet burn. Where did he find a welding mallet? he asked.

Gimli, more than likely, Legolas said, tersely. I've warned him a thousand times that this might happen, but no-oooo...

Aragorn scratched himself and then strode out of the room, dragging Elendil with him. Legolas fell into step behind him, and together they followed Frodo's calls of MY PRECIOUSSS! She callsss to me!

snarled Aragorn.



I'm not your fecking precious, get out of that corner RIGHT NOW so we can drive you to the grocery shop! yelled Aragorn, waving his sword so animatedly that Legolas jumped back several feet for fear of disembowelment.



That's right, get your rain boots on, it's nippy outside.



Aragorn sighed deeply. They're in your room, you git, he muttered.

Legolas watched Frodo rush upstairs, chanting Preciouss, preciouss, preciouss! for every stair he hopped on and looked at Aragorn with mingled amusement. He opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn cut him off.

Don't. Say. A. Word, Aragorn said quietly, his Adam's apple shaking in apprehension.

I was just going to say that what you did was very manly. In a gay sort of way, Legolas smirked. Only you could understand what Frodo was saying. I'm so glad that you took those Bushman Verbiage classes.

______

Aragorn, Legolas, and Frodo set out for the grocery store, leaving a note taped onto the refrigerator for Sam reading: Frodo on monthly. Went for cookies. Be back soon. Love- Ears and King.'

Aragorn parked in the handicapped section of Econo Foods, and Legolas went for a basket while Aragorn dug for Gandalf's handicapped ticket.

I can't find it! whined Aragorn to Legolas.

Ssss' Precioussss?

Yes, I KNOW it's lost, Aragorn said coldly to his hobbit companion, tapping his foot impatiently. Well, I suppose if we make it quick, we can get the cookies, pay, and leave... and nobody need know!

Legolas wandered back over with a basket and an umbrella hanging from his arm, looking very much like a blonde version of Mary Poppins.

Aragorn seized Frodo by the arm and stuffed him in the basket. The Mary Poppins demeanor was lost as Legolas struggled to keep the lid down.

C'mon, let's go! yelled Aragorn, wielding Elendil.

Erm, Aragorn? Maybe you should leave that in the car. I mean, I know you have the right to bear arms, but I don't think it stretches to the Econo Food.

Aragorn stopped in his tracks. Oh. Right, then, he said.

Several minutes later, Aragorn was peering around corners, hoping to catch sight of the cookie aisle. It was a newly-built Super Econo Foods, so naturally it had twice the amount of aisles and ten times the amount of crap where the food was supposed to be. Even Legolas's elven eyesight couldn't spot as much as a Twinkie.

We're lost, Aragorn, face it.

PRECIOUSSS! WE'RE GETTINGS ANGRIES WITH THE SHE-ELF! NASSSTY FILTHY...

Legolas accidentally' dropped the basket onto the hard tiled floor. Frodo emitted a high-pitched squeak from within the wicker. Maybe we should split up. You go left, I go right. We meet back here in about fifteen minutes, Legolas suggested.

Aragorn set off on his quest in the left side of the grocery store. He would have passed for a normal, unshaven, middle-aged man doing his typical grocery shopping for his family if he wasn't humming the theme to Live and Let Die and darting around the aisles suspiciously.

Unfortunately, his darting and skirting techniques didn't work all that well. He rounded a corner blindly and ran into Alison', a teenage girl sporting an Econo Foods uniform, with shockingly red hair and makeup that made her look as if she lived for street corners. She blinked her Mimi Bobeck eyelids and smiled at Aragorn, revealing a shiny set of braces.

she said, chirpily. Looking for anything in particular?

Aragorn stuttered. He was very opposed to asking for any kind of direction, whether it be in the car on a road trip, or in the Econo Foods. Well, erm...

Let me guess! I'm terrific at guessing! she begged. I bet you're looking for... At this point, she put her fingers up to her temples and closed her eyes, or at least Aragorn thought she closed her eyes. The eyeliner threw him for a loop. Are you looking for... groceries? she finally said, wittily.

Aragorn stared at the girl in amazement. He had never met anybody, even including Merry and Pippin, that outwardly registered to have as much intelligence as iceberg lettuce. He shook his head. Erm... I'm actually looking for... cookies, he said finally.



Aragorn shook his head free again of his violent thoughts. Yes, those round, sugary things? Strategically placed next to the feminine hygiene items?

Alison thought, and after a few moments, spoke. Oh, yes! Down aisle twelve. I'll take you there. And with that, they sauntered down several aisles and made several wrong turns down the seafood and kosher aisles.

With a little help from Aragorn's intuitive ranger skills, they made it to the cookie aisle. Legolas and Frodo (still in the basket) were already there. Frodo was muttering in his usual post-Ringbearing lisp, and Legolas was counting coupons, and debating between the Oreos and the Milanos. He looked up at Aragorn and smiled, and then turned to Alison. Quel dommage! he said outloud on first sight of her, before he could restrain himself.

Alison smiled brightly, blinding Legolas and Aragorn, and blinked her purple-sparkly eyes stupidly.

Legolas tore his horrified gaze away from Alison to address Aragorn. The Oreos are cheaper, but the Milanos are better quality, and on sale. We could stock up for Frodo's next monthly.

Alison, who had been listening in the entire time, grinned even more broadly. Oh, that's so CUTE! she exclaimed.

What's so cute? Aragorn said gruffly.

Alison smiled dreamily. You're buying pads and cookies for your daughter's periods!

Legolas and Aragorn went pale and rigid. Even Frodo had stopped mumbling when he heard the dreaded P-word. The basket trembled violently. Erm... actually, we just buy cookies on a monthly basis... it's nothing, ermm...

But no more was said. Alison grabbed Legolas and Aragorn and dragged them off. Now, what kind of flow does she have? If it's a heavier one, I'd suggest the Always Super-Absorbants. If it's a bit on the light side, I'd just go with the panty liners. Or is she a Tampax kind of little woman?

Legolas turned to speak to Aragorn. A muscle was twitching violently in Aragorn's cheek, and he didn't acknowledge Legolas.

Hmm... the Secrets' line is on sale, but I would personally recommend the new Pearls'. Okay, boys, serious question: does she wear a thong? asked Alison, holding up a overpackaged plastic box. If the answer's yes, try these! They're super cool! She grinned from ear to ear.

Leg it. Now, muttered Aragorn.

Hey, where are you guys... HEY! Are you, like, going to pay for those? cried Alison after the hastily retreating members of the Fellowship.

Several minutes later, Aragorn was leaning, panting and sweaty against the door of the Ford Escort, holding a package of stolen Oreos in his hand. I knew... I should... have brought... my sword... he gasped.

Legolas was tucking an unkempt piece of hair behind his ears, and examining his reflection in the rear view mirror. You have to give her points for her helpfulness. At least she led us to the cookies.

Frodo had been released from his wicker prison, and was curled up in the backseat, restrained by safety belts. He was hugging his hobbit legs, and rocking back and forth, muttering, Preciousss, doom, precioussss, doom...

Legolas sighed at the sight and reached into a bag that he had stolen. You got Oreos? he said to Aragorn who nodded. Hmm. I got some Milanos, and some Nutter Butters. I also seemed to have picked up a box of Always Super-Absorbants as well... he said, gloomily.

Aragorn twitched involuntarily. You'd better go return those, he said in a monotone.

Legolas looked at him pathetically. I'm sorry, I'm not going back in a Super Econo Foods ever again, even if it's a choice between life or death. He tossed the package at Aragorn, who caught it and held it out at arm's length. You can return them.

Aragorn squeaked.

You'd think after living with Arwen for thousands of years, you would have gotten over the getting-the-painters-in-phobia.

Aragorn squeaked again.

Honestly. Give them here, Legolas said, and Aragorn tossed the Super-Absorbants back to the elf. I'll find somebody to give them to as a present.

Like who? said Aragorn testily. It may have escaped your elven eyesight, but the entire Fellowship is male.

Goodness, I know that, said Legolas.

Then who are those, Aragorn pointed in the general vicinity of the unspeakables', going to go to?





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Will the assorted Oreos, Nutter Butters, and other delightful sugar-filled snacks be enough to calm Frodo? Will Pippin and Merry get new jobs? Only one way to find out. Stick around for the next chapter of The Urban Havens!

My dearest thanks to all my readers, I lobe you lots.

Cheers!

-Ebba