Disclaimer: Squawk Squawk squawki squawk Translation: This is Tolkien's, but my cockatiel, Elessar said LOTR didn't have enough birds, so I decided to humor him. Therefore, without further ado. . .

The Infamous Grey Polly

Chapter 1 A Little Surprise

"Gandalf, I am becoming sick and tired of your stubbornness!" Shouted Saruman as he clambered up the tower of Orthanc. Gandalf sighed. For the three hours he had been imprisoned in Isengard, Saruman had been up every five minutes to see if Gandalf had changed his mind.

"I think I hear your pet worm calling."

"Indeed," Saruman said, no humor in his voice. He was now on the top of Orthanc facing Gandalf, staff in hand. "What have you decided?"

"The same thing I decided five minutes ago. You may kill me, but you will not get the ring." At that moment, footsteps were heard on the stairs below.

"My lord, the Uruks are hideous, they look like Orcs and Wargs mixed together!" squealed Grima. Saruman donned an evil smirk. "And worse yet," continued Grima, "they're climbing trees, writig with sticks in the mud, collecting boquets of leaves, and stargazing!"

"Stargazing!" Saruman turned on Grima, waving his staff. "What are they?! Elves?! They are Uruk-Hai. Terrifying, stinking, fighting, killing, Uruk-Hai. They can not stargaze!"

"Actually, my lord, they are a tiny bit elven," Grima whispered.

"What! Come with me. We'll wee an end to this. Stargazing! I'll blow out all the stars in the sky. Set them straight. My Uruk-Hai," Saruman fumed as he descended the staircase. A few minutes later he returned.

"Gandalf, you fool. You can't possibly. . . "he stopped as he scanned the tower. Gandalf was nowhere to be seen . He rushed to the edge of Orthanc andd, seeing nothing, he shouted to the wind, "So you have chosen DEATH!"

"Sam, he'll be here; he'll come," Frodo reassured his antsy gardener.

"I know Mister Frodo, it's just hiccup . . ." Sam blushed and made a gesture toward a far corner. Frodo surpressed a laugh and Sam viciously nodded his head in the same direction, accidentally banging it into Pippin, complete with ale.

"Steady on, Sam!" Pippin exclaimed, drying himself off with a napkin. "Has anyone seen Merry?"

"He went out for some fresh air. He said it was too stuffy in here." Frodo answered. "I'm beginning to agree with him," he added with a glance around the room.

"You're not thinking of going out there, Mr. Frodo," Sam whispered. "What if those black riders are back."

"No, Sam, I'll stay here until Gandalf comes. He'll know what to do." Just then Merry rushed in, holding a sopping wet animal in his arms. His normally cheerful face was serious, even a bit frightened as he discretely took a seat beside Frodo.

"What happened?" the ringbearer inquired in a whisper when he was certain no one was listening.

"Well, I was feeling shivers run down my spine really bad, as if something evil was about. Then out of nowhere, this falls straight into my arms," Merry gestured toward he grey object he held. "I wasn't as scared, but I figured I'd better come in and tell you."

"We'd better dry it off," Sam volunteered, gently taking the animal from Merry. "There now, it's going to be all right," he comforted, walking toward the fireplace with the animal warm in his shirt.

"Well, Frodo, what do you make of it?" Merry asked, but Frodo didn't answer. The exhausted ringbearer was fast asleep.