(A/N: This idea is spawned from the 1,000 Ring theory and Imithwennyere's comment about Mt. Doom's fiery pits keeping the fries warm. And I really need to get Microsoft Word.)

Saruman glanced down at the letter on his desk again. He had no idea why Sauron had actually written to him nor understood how a giant, floating, flaming eye could write but the Dark Lord had requested all things evil come and visit him at once. Right, like he could get out of "Lake Isengard" with all these bloody Ents sulking around, planting flowers like they owned the place.

He glared out the window at them. They knew he hated pansies and was allergic to mongolias.

What's even worse is that he had to get Grima to throw the damned palantir out the window to get people to notice them, and that didn't really work considering that hobbits are apparently attracted to shiny objects and prone to random moments of stupidity (such as picking up random shiny objects that were throw out the window at them) and Gandalf's hearing and eyesight must be failing him. Not even talking to Saruman after he was juxtaposed by the freak bunch of walking trees. If this wasn't bad enough, Sauron now had Aragorn's number (via the palantir).

Stupid Sauron. Somehow, someway, this was all his fault.

How it was his fault, Saruman was still trying to figure out. So far he had managed to blame Grima with everything that had gone wrong. But he knew, under that massive beard and that amazing technicolor dreamcoat, he couldn't blame everything on Grima. This is where blaming Sauron came into play.

But still. He wondered. What the hell is Sauron plotting? Gather a mass force for attack? Planning to breed Uruk-hai on his own? Start a fast-food-chain?

He laughed out loud.

Sauron wasn't that stupid.

The Black Gates of Mordor opened to the masses of Evil-Doers in Middle Earth, and even ones that weren't from Middle Earth: Bill Gates and Martha Stuart could be seen chatting animatedly as they walked through. Little usher-orcs directed everyone inside and to their seats. Everyone began to wonder how the Hell Mordor had turned into a theater, but they didn't really mind because it smelled a whole lot better than what it had before.

All the Evil-Doers had sat down after a particularly pissy little usher-orc screamed at Michael Jackson to sit his ass down or face Sauron's wrath, which everyone knew to be an extremely bad make-over that consisted of lots of pinks, purples and oranges. When the usher-orc closed the doors, the curtain opened and displayed the flamer himself: Sauron.

And boy was he flaming today, not just like any other day. For Sauron had concocted the craziest, dumbest, most incredibly impossible scheme anyone could ever think of that might just work. He was so proud of himself, he had put on extra mascara. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to put mascara on, being an eyeball and all, so he had an orc to do it for him. Little did he know at the time that orcs are not only near-sighted but also colour blind, so instead of pretty smokey purple eyeliner he had the new "Damn! That's a bright orange" one.

If Sauron had his body, he would of eaten the little gobshite for dinner. Instead he settled for sending him to Torture Chamber #72: The Pastel Pink Room. Barney. Teletubbies. Animated 1960's or 70's version of The Hobbit. All in Pastel Pink. Yeah, you get my drift. It was bad.

Anyway. Sauron flamed on stage while the cranky little orc revealed the Dark Lord's plan. The Dark Lord being Sauron. Not Voldemort. Although he was in the audience.

"The Dark Lord Sauron has called all you freaks here today to present his master plan to conquer Middle Earth. Join Sauron, and you will be able to conquer your worlds with this plan as well as get individually wrapped gift tofu baskets made by Martha Stuart."

Everyone whispered excitedly. Except Satan. Satan called his minions in Hell on his cellphone to ask if Martha had created another Tofu Hell while he was on vacation. However, Richard Simmons answered the phone, "Hello, and thank you for calling the Tofu Hell hotline! How may I help you?" and that was enough for him.

The little orc continued once everyone was settled.

"The master plan is this: we start a fast food chain."

It went dead silent. Evil crickets chirped. Seasons changed. Suddenly someone started laughing. It was Grima.

Then everyone else agreed it was pretty stupid as well and started laughing too. Sauron flamed. The little bitchy orc let out a battle cry. Everyone shut up.

"Rawr. As I was saying, we shall create a food fast chain. You think its silly but all shall succumb to the power of grease, salt and fat eventually. It might take days, weeks, months or even years. But we have worked around that. Not only do we offer grease, salt, and fat, we offer toys and the satisfaction that you will gain 5 pounds just from breathing in the scent of the food." Lucius and Voldemort grimaced. They obviously didn't like the idea of getting fat. Gotta keep up with your health when teenage wizards are easily kicking your ass. The people in the audience began to talk excitedly save the above mentioned people for the above mentioned reason.

Now back to Grima for a moment. Saruman sent Grima to get the scoop on what the old, flaming eyeball was up to. Actually, he threw Grima out the window one day so he just decided to go to Mordor and spill everything he knew to Sauron about the old, cranky wizard. He had been thinking about telling him about the pinky, fuzzy bunny slippers Saruman wears when he thinks no one was looking but Grima was pretty sure some orc had probably already told while in Hobbit- Kidnaping Camp.

Of course, he had also come there thinking noone would recognize him. Around the fifteenth time a loud, high-pitched sneeze echoed through the theater (Wormtongue just wasn't used to such clean surroundings and certainly hadn't breathed in air freshener before) everyone's favourite little orc attacked him viciously and dragged him up to the stage. I feel I should name the bitchy orc. I'll call her Sunshine.

Sunshine then kicked him backstage where another orcs came and put him in what will be the signature McSauron's uniform. They then kicked him back on stage, centering the spot light on him. He swore on his secret Johnny Depp shrine that he would kill himself if anyone recognized him. Then he realized he should get rid of his Johnny Depp shrine first and then kill himself. So no one would know that he craved Johnny Depp as if he was oxygen, food, water or black clothing.

"We're hiring now! This will be the uniform that you'd be wearing! Of course, we could of paid for a good-looking model but we need to save that money since there'll be a McSauron's every 3 or 5 miles and hard labor is just getting insanely expensive." The audience laughed as Grima death-glared Sunshine and Sunshine chuckled evilly to herself for insulting the greasy man.

"Go forth, Evil Doers of the World! And create the world's most evil franchise since Microsoft!"

And so millions upon millions McSauron's were opened across Middle Earth. Everyone, even Elves, flocked to them to fatten up on their greasy, fatty foods. Hell, even the Ents wanted to know what was going on. You could see Elrond and Celeborn chowing down on some cheese burgers with Tree Beard sipping some coke. But not everyone welcomed McSauron's.

Aragorn was suspicious. He sensed evil in those grease-ridden hamburgers. However, Theoden and Eomer were hungry. Very hungry. And like most intelligent people, they did not trust Eowyn's cooking. Theoden sent Eomer to go get them some kid meals (mainly because this month's toys were from Finding Nemo) and super-sized fries. He rode to the closest one, which, conveniently, there was a McSauron's every 3 miles except for in the Shire where there was one every mile. The horse stopped at the enormous menu and a speaker hidden in the brushes emoted, "Can I take your order?"

...which scared the shit out of Eomer and the horse.

"...Hello? ...Look, I know someone's there, I see you in the camera." But Eomer wasn't paying attention; he had drawn his bow and arrow, and was now looking around in the brushes for where the Heck that familiar voice was coming from. "Ok, look buddy, I don't have all day here, just give me your damn order." At that moment, he found where the voice was emitting from and pounced on the speaker. "Ha! I found you!"

"Bravo. Now give me your order before I get the manager on your ass."

Eomer, slightly disappointed that he didn't actually find a human lurking in the brushes that he could threaten in a manly manner to get his order, went back to his horse and cleared is throat to try to cover his embarrassment.

"I'd like two kid's meals and four super-sized fries." There was a pause as beeping could be heard from the speaker.

"Alright, $15 at the second window."

"$15?! Are you crazy?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who was crawling around in the brushes with a bow and arrow."

Eomer grumbled to himself but in the end he rode up to the drive-thru window. And then started when he looked inside.

There, in all his fast-food uniform glory, was Grima holding his order and drink, with the distinct look of 'I'm gonna kill you if you say anything about this' on his face. "Would you like ketchup?" Grima asked. Eomer merely blinked then spurred his horse into motion. "HEY! You haven't paid for your KIDS MEAL YET!!! EOMER!!!"

But it was too late, for like everyone else when they ride off, he rode into the sunset.

Then fell off his horse, because due to budget cuts from spending way too much on CGI armies, the sunset was merely a backdrop.