The Mines of Moria In An Alternate Dimension

By Trep092

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings and I am making no profit from this story save my own amusement.

A/N: I got the idea for this story when my friend told me that she was trying to write Morgoth, and her phone's autocorrect function turned it into Mayonnaise. I have no clue how she originally spelled it. The idea for this story popped into my mind and just kept expanding. So I took the character's names from the fellowship and put them through the autocorrect on my phone. Insanity ensued.

A character list follows the story for anybody who gets confused as to which character is which.

Enjoy the lunacy.

Warning: A lot of character bashing, it's not my view of the characters, it's just how the story turned out. There's also minor profanity. Also lots and lots of insanity, if you make it out with your mind intact I commend you. Also, the characters are obviously very very OOC.

A/N: I'm reposting this to fix some errors that have been pointed out to me by those who have reviewed. I've just fixed a couple of names and grammar mistakes. So if these things kept you up at night gnashing your teeth, you can now rest easy. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed.

Fear gripped the hearts of eight members of the Fellowship of the Ring as they hurtled down the seemingly endless stairs towards what they hoped was the exit to the Mines of Moria. There were only eight of them as Vandal the Pink and Sparkly was currently attempting to hold a door against a troll and a bunch of orcs. What an old man with a stick who had a bright pink aura about him and a seemingly endless supply of sparkles leaking from his robes could do against a bunch of evil creatures was beyond them. Maybe he'd say a few gibberish words and poke them in the eye. That's what he did to Pipeline and it seemed to have an effect. Pipeline no longer did stupid things like drop stones down a huge hole in the floor, but his eyes were missing and he tended to wander off and crash into walls.

They finally reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a cavernous room with rivers of fire, a bunch of orcs and trolls and a chasm in the floor spanned by a tiny bridge that looked as fragile as a twig.

Vandal was there waiting for them. He spun a wild story of holding the door with magic and then being flung down the stairs to which the fellowship ooed and ahhed. Secretly though they believed he had found an elevator which he hadn't wanted to share with them.

Vandal told The Fellowship that the twig like bridge was called "The Bridge of Khazad-dum". Pipeline tried to raise the fact that the bridge sounded like it had the word "doom" in it and they really shouldn't cross it but Vandal just poked him in the nose and laughed while sprinkling sparkles about and said, "we shall carry on Pipeline, my big seen of awesomeness is approaching."

As Vandal was the one who distributed their pay cheques, nobody disagreed too much. It was better if they kept him happy.

They started arguing boisterously about who was to cross the tiny bridge first, but their arguments were cut short when the trolls began to build a bridge across the river of fire with huge slabs of stone. The stone bridge looked much more safe than the Casadoom bridge, but it was a rather stupid idea to run across a bridge at the enemy. It was much wiser to run across a bridge off which you could tumble into an endless abyss.

They began to run towards the Bridge of Casadoom with Legumes in the lead as he was the sexiest and arguably had the awesomest fighting moves. He maybe should have brought up the rear as you wouldn't want to lose your best fighter down a chasm, but this is my story and I tell it how I like.

So they were hurtling towards the chasm when a horrible beast of flame and darkness appeared. At least that's how Vandal will tell the story when he comes back from the dead, but in actuality it was a barbell-shaped mass of mayonnaise.

The fellowship stopped as one in shock. Well except for Pipeline who kept on sprinting and amazingly enough despite his lack of vision ran straight across the bridge without even wavering at all.

Legumes managed to recover from his shock long enough to gasp dramatically, "it's a barbell of Mayonnaise!"

The Fellowship was in shock, apart from Vandal who was sizing up the barbell of Mayo. It looked rather harmless, he figured he could just kick it off the edge of the bridge and he would be hailed as the most amazing Maia. That feet would most definitely trump Saruman's little "I can create super strong orcs that can fight during the day" crap. Everyone knew that that was impossible.

So he strode forward confidently, sprinkling sparkles everywhere from his hat and struck out at the mayo barbell with his foot. His foot slipped on the slimy liquid and he fell towards the edge of the bridge with a surprisingly girly shriek.

Aragorn (call me Frank because my name is amazingly not autocorrected and I wanted a cool name) jumped forward and tried to seize the back of Vandal's robes, but only succeeded in grabbing his tall pointy wizards hat.

Vandal fell over the side of the bridge, and had time enough to say quite calmly his last line (at least we hoped it was), "fly you fools."

Pipeline, who wanted to impress Vandal, decided to "fly" and ran back towards the chasm flapping his arms. This time he wasn't so lucky. He flew right off the edge of the chasm and fell after Vandal. His last amazing line was, "ooooo sparkles!"

And so The Fellowship was dwindled down to seven.

The remaining members stood around in shock except for Sam. Sam was on his knees hurriedly scooping Mayonnaise off the ground and into a handy jar that he had in his pocket. He had the idea that they might come across a hotdog in Mordor and it would be nice to have some mayo to spread on it. He was going to discard his box of salt—what were the odds of finding a bunny to make into stew? It was much more likely that they'd come across a hotdog. He was about to chuck the box of spice off the bridge when he realized that if there was hotdogs in Mordor there might be French fries and he knew that mister Fondue preferred salt on his fries. He himself preferred cheese and gravy, but mister Fondue's likes were much more important. He carried the ring after all.

Legumes, seeing what Sam was doing, dove forward and began to pick up mayo in his bare hands and slather it into his tresses. He had heard a rumour that putting mayonnaise in your hair would make it soft and beautiful.

Frank, seeing that the Fellowship was descending into madness, quickly corralled everyone and herded them off out of the mines, dispatching a few orcs on the way.

When they had reached a safe distance from the mines they stopped so that Frank could make sure that Fondue was still living. This fact was contested as the whole Fellowship had witnessed a spear being thrust into Fondue's side, but instead of finding blood and guts they found a pretty coat of mithril which Gimlet immediately began petting and stroking and crooning over. He was nearly at the level of obsession of Gollum, but Frank and Legumes hauled him back before he could start calling the coat his "preciousy precious".

After witnessing this nightmare-inducing, vomit-worthy scene, the Fellowship didn't seem to remember that they were grieving over Vandal and Pipeline. After all, as Merry put it, "I was just plain sick of Vandal vandalizing things. There was only so many times I could pretend to laugh and take it in stride when he spray painted my foot hair various shades of pink. And what was with the sparkles? Where did they all come from?"

When asked about the death of his dearest friend he had this to say, "Everyone liked him better anyways. He had a crude sense of humour that everyone ate up. Now the world can enjoy my quieter, more sophisticated sense of mirth. You won't see me looking into creepy balls or throwing rocks down holes. No sir." At this proclamation, half the Fellowship, and the rest of the World fell asleep.

So the Fellowship continued on their way towards the forest of Lothlorien.

After a few hours Legumes's mayonnaise soaked hair was really beginning to reek. At the next river that they had to cross Frank demanded that Legumes rinse his hair as it's smell would probably attract every single Orc, troll, Balrog and freakishly huge spider in existence.

Legumes, who was a tad tipsy from the Mayonnaise fumes, tottered towards the water and began to scrub his long beautiful hair. While he was occupied doing this, the Fellowship decided to take a little break and flopped down as one on the grassy bank.

They set about to talking and laughing and poking fun at Baronet who hasn't been mentioned thus far due to his... curious behaviour. He, in a misguided attempt to live up to his name which describes a member of the British order of honour that ranks below a baron but above a knight, decided to speak using the "royal we". But, he didn't know exactly how, so he just walked around saying, "we are not amused," At every opportunity.

So the members of the fellowship were mocking him. Fondue said, "oonly kings, presidents, pregnant women, and people with tapeworms have the right to use the royal we. Which are you?"

Baronet was not amused at this question. He said, "we are the future steward of Gondor."

"Is that a king?" asked Fondue

"No."

"Is that a president?"

"No."

"Are you pregnant?"

"We most certainly are not!"

"Do you have a tapeworm?"

"We do not! We are not amused with this line of questioning."

"Then you can't use the royal we."

"Off with your head!"

"Off with my what?"

And with that last confused remark, Fondue was pushed into the river by Baronet, who tragically fell in after him. Tragically I say because Baronet didn't know how to swim. His last remark was, "we don't know how to swim!"

Fondue on the other hand was much more lucky. He knew how to swim. He paddled to the edge of the river and held out his hand to Sam. "Save me Sam! Save me or I will turn my puppy dog eyes on you and look pathetic and you will have to help me and do everything I ever ask of you."

Sighing, Sam stood up and strode to the edge of the river. He pulled on Fondue's hand until he came flying out of the water and landed with a squelch on the bank.

"Dry me off Sam, then draw me a bath and brew me some tea."

"Yes Mr. Fondue... wait! What? You want me to dry you off, then draw you a bath so you can get wet again?"

"Don't question me Sam. I am after all the Ring bearer!"

"Yes Mr. Fondue. Whatever you say Mr. Fondue."

"Good lad Sam."

The remaining six members of the Fellowship sat around for a good while discussing their plight. Well Fondue was still splashing around with his rubber ducky so there were only five members.

The topic of conversation seemed to wander back to Baronet's tragic death no matter how many times Frank tried to talk about things like orcs following them, and the fate of the ring. These topics were just too dull.

"I mean he was a nice enough chap," said Gimlet as he sat stroking the mithril coat that Sam had slipped to him after Fondue climbed into his bath. "I rather enjoyed his mumblings."

"Have you been dipping into the Hobbit's weed again?" asked Frank finally deciding to go along with the topic, "He thought he was a King! And, as we all know, I'm the only King in the vicinity."

"No, he thought he was pregnant."

"No he had a tape worm."

"I got it!" Merry shouted over the inane babble, "He was a President/King that was pregnant and had a tapeworm."

Everybody agreed apart from Frank who still insisted he was the only King.

"So he was all that, but he was also a traitor, thief and a murderer." Said Merry thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Gimlet. "I never saw him thieving or murdering—well apart from orcs."

"Well, if he hadn't died, he would have tried to steal the r-i-n-g from Fondue, failed in the attempt, been shot full of arrows, and then died."

"I see how he is a traitor, but how is he a murderer?"

"Well, when he went off on this accursed journey, he endangered the lives of his unborn child, and his tape worm. He caused their deaths, thus he is a murderer."

"The bastard!"

"Outrageous!"

"I've been thinking," came Legumes's voice from where he was sitting still brushing out his silky locks. "Maybe Baronet was right."

"Right about what?"

"Right that we should be what our names describe. His name was baronet and he tried to be a baronet."

"The mayonnaise has addled your brains," said Frank derisively, "Are you suggesting you should be a legume as your name is Legumes?"

"Yes."

"You are mad."

"No I'm not! I think it is a wonderful idea."

"Well, be a legume then."

"What's a legume?" asked Legumes.

"A thing that grows in the ground—a bean." Said Sam.

"Oh..." said Legumes beginning to think this was a bad idea.

"Well, go on! Get down in the dirt and we'll burry you."

"Why?"

"Well because you have to start off as a seed right? So go on, lay in the dirt."

"But my hair—"

"Do it!"

So with many protestations, Legumes was forced to lay in a shallow pit which Merry and Gimlet dug in the riverbank.

"Ok, this isn't fun, my fine princely clothes are filthy, and I think there are bugs in my hair—" squealed Legumes from the pit.

"Oh be quiet," said Gimlet. "I was tired of your holier than thou attitude. Just because you can slide down stairs on a shield while killing orcs and looking sexy and completely unruffled doesn't give you the right to be the coolest one of us all. Look at me for example, I have an axe! And I have braids, and I have a strange crush on a creepy elf lady... Ok, burry the legume before I ramble on too much and embarrass myself."

"I thought you guys were friends?" said Merry confused. "You know, you have the unlikely friendship between two races that don't get along."

"Well," replied Gimlet. "I know that I'm going to challenge the elf to a drinking contest and I'm going to fail epically, and I don't want that to happen so... let the elf pretend he's a legume. He will be the one embarrassed for once."

"Ok!" said Merry cheerfully and he and Sam began to burry Legumes in dirt.

Finally when the mound covered Legumes completely, Merry and Sam stood back to admire their handiwork.

"I didn't know that legume seeds make the dirt move? Did you know that Sam?"

"No Merry I didn't know that. I'm pretty sure that seeds don't make the ground move."

"Well lets stomp on the dirt and see if that stops the moving."

So they stomped on the mound of dirt until it was no longer moving.

"There we go Sam. Now what are we going to do?"

"Watch the legumes grow?"

"That could take years. Let's see what Frank has to say, he is after all the leader of the fellowship now."

"Or, we could eat!"

"Eating sounds much more fun."

So Merry and Sam wandered off to eat.

Meanwhile, Gimlet was thinking.

"I was thinking," He said to Frank, "they were all right. Baronet was a baronet, Vandal was a vandal, and Legumes is now a legume. I think we should all be what our names say. That must be the Valar's plan for us all."

"You're as mad as the elf!" said Frank exasperated. "The valar's plan is for us, or rather I should say Gollum, to destroy the ring and save Middle Earth."

"You said the word!" gasped Gimlet.

"Oh damn I did. I meant r-i-n-g." Frank said desperately trying to fix his major error.

"Did someone say ring?" asked Fondue frantically. "Where's the ring? Where's the ring?"

"It's around your neck Mr. Fondue. Right where it usually is." Said Sam calmly as he slowly approached Fondue where he stood in his bath looking around frantically.

"Get away from me!" snarled Fondue as he curled his hands into claws and contorted his face into a vicious expression. "Stay away or I will gut you like a fish."

With that pronouncement, the remaining members of the Fellowship ran away about twenty feet and sat back down again.

"What the hell were you thinking saying the "r" word?" spat Sam angrily. "You know how he gets. I won't be able to come near him for a few hours and then he will be very testy because I didn't help him out of his bath and he turned into a prune..."

"So?" said Gimlet. "Leave him be. I was just telling Frank how I had this amazing idea—"

"Stupid idea rather." Interrupted Frank tiredly. "He wants to pull a Legumes and be what his name is."

"So..." said Merry slowly, "What is a Gimlet?"

"I actually don't know," said Gimlet embarrassed. "Sounds like a piece of meat or something."

"It's a drink with gin or vodka with lime juice." Said Sam knowledgably.

"How do you know?" asked Gimlet amazed.

"Well bein' 'round Mr. Fondue so much drives one to well... drink... a lot."

"Completely understandable."

"Well," asked Merry curiously, "how does one be a drink?"

"I suppose the personage being the drink should be drunk by someone." Said Gimlet slowly. "Any volunteers?"

Everybody suddenly looked frightened. They began to all back away very slowly.

"Well if there be no volunteers, we'll have to let the mighty axe decide."

Gimlet placed his axe on the ground and spun it forcefully. It spun and spun and the remaining members of the Fellowship apart from Fondue stared entranced. Finally it inexorably stopped with the blade pointing squarely at Merry.

"Oh no." Said Merry fearfully. "Oh no you don't!"

"Oh yes I do!" said Gimlet in a rather frightening voice. "Drink me!"

And with that, Gimlet stood—dropping the mithril coat—and charged at Merry. Merry took off as fast as his hobbit legs could carry him. The two disappeared over the horizon and were never seen or heard from ever again.

"Saaaaaaaaam!" Fondues piercing voice shattered the stunned silence left in Merry and Gimlet's wake. "Saaaaaaaaam! Get me out of my bath, dry me off, and you still haven't gotten me that cup of tea. What the blazes have you been doing?"

Sam sighed heavily, chugged from a hip flask that no one had noticed he was carrying, and hurried off to see to Mr. Fondue.

Frank was left by himself. He pulled out his pipe, stuffed it full of Hobbit weed and began to smoke. How had this quest gone to Hell so quickly? It was supposed to be easy, he would get to walk quite a bit (Arwen was complaining that he was getting a belly, in his defense he was eighty-seven and starting to feel it. Instead of fighting Orcs he would much rather kick back and watch football.), fight a couple of orcs, raise the dead, and make a few awesome and sexy speeches. And in the end, be crowned King, and get to marry the love of his life. Simple right?

Well now there were only three members of the fellowship remaining. Himself, Fondue the whiner, and Sam the drunk. How on Middle Earth were they supposed to save the World.

Slowly, the Hobbit weed began to addle his brain and he began to think about his lost companions. Maybe they had the right idea after all.

"What are you thinking about?" Fondue asked from behind him.

"My name and what I could do to be it."

"That's just weird." Replied Fondue.

"Well it's easy enough for you, you can be a fondue. But what about me? Frank is just a name. How can one be a frank?"

"Well," said Sam knowledgably, "a frank is a type of sausage—"

"No one asked you Sam!" Fondue shouted. "Where's my tea?"

"Right away Mr. Fondue..." sighed Sam.

"A sausage... A sausage..." Frank said allowed as he thought really hard. "Well I like sausages, but I like stake better... That's it! I will open a steak house. Frank's Stake House! What do you think?"

"Well you are rather rugged—"

"That is perfect Fondue! Frank's Rugged Steak House! And, as Vandal was the distributer of our pay cheques, and as he is dead, what is the point of carrying on with this quest anyways? I am going into the restaurant industry. I will be able to live out my life in piece without dealing with you people."

"Would you need a cook?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Of course You could be the cook Sam! I can put up with you at least."

"I forbid you Sam!" Fondue shrieked. "You are coming with me."

"Where? To finish the quest?"

"No. I think Pipeline was right. We shouldn't go to anyplace that has the word doom in the title. It's just wrong. So no Mount Doom for me. I'm going home. I'm going to sell the... precious on EBay and then... I don't know. Perhaps I won't sell it. Yes that's for the best. I'll keep it and... become the dark lord of the Shire! Everyone will love me and will bow down to my every whim."

"Uh... thanks but no thanks." Sam said as he backed slowly away from Fondue towards Frank. "I am going to be a cook."

"Listen to your master Sam." Fondue said beseechingly.

"Hmm. Go with a master who abuses me, makes me do all the work, and will get all the glory for destroying the ring when it is I who carries him up the bloody mountain and then Gollum who destroys it, or go with Frank and fulfill my dreams of being a chef... Which sounds better? I think I'll choose the latter."

So Frank and Sam walked off, in search of a nice place to build their restaurant. Fondue was left behind, staring sadly with his big blue puppy dog eyes. But there was no one around to fall under their spell.

So, what happened to the ring? Is Middle Earth doomed to fall under the tyranny of a little midget? Well that's a tale for a different day.

Character List:

Vandal the Pink and Sparkly: Gandalf the Grey

Pipeline: Pippin

Merry: Merry

Sam: Sam

Fondue: Frodo

Frank: Aragorn (his name wasn't autocorrected so I gave him the first name that popped into my head)

Legumes: Legolas

Gimlet: Gimli

Baronet: Boramir

Please review.