Mina: My sister and I wanted to collaborate on a story and we came up with this funny idea together. We hope you enjoy it.

Nari: We don't mean any offense to people who have lisps, buy life insurance, or buy lotto tickets. This is purely meant to be humorous and not hurtful or offensive in any way.

Disclaimer: We do not own Lord of the Rings.

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Blah- lisp part

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Denethor sat in the throne room of Minas Tirith, bored out of his mind. The worst part of his day was about to begin. No, it wasn't hearing his six-year-old son, Faramir's pleading to spend time together; that was the second worst. The worst part of his day was listening to the whining and simpering of the people of Minis Tirith complaining about some insignificant event in their mundane lives that he couldn't care less about.

He sighed as he looked at the time. To one of the guards he said, "Bring in the first miserable complainer."

The guard nodded and opened the doors and in walked an old man. He was skinny and bony with a wrinkled, weather beaten face and tattered, patched up rags for clothes. He was slightly hunched over and used a gnarled wooden cane as a walking stick. Contrary to what you may be thinking right now, this man was not Gandalf, to which Denethor was greatly relieved about.

The man approached Denethor, slowly. Time slowed to a crawl in Denethor's mind and it seemed to take ages for him to move one inch. Finally, the man reached Denethor. With a lopsided grin, he attempted to straighten himself and looked Denethor straight in the eye.

"State your name." Denethor said in a bored drawl.

"Spensorio, son of Spatzon." Spensorio, the old man said. With every "s", "p", and "t" Spensorio said, spit flew from his mouth and onto Denethor's face, causing him to flinch.

Wiping the spit from his face with a grimace of disgust, Denethor said, "Okaaaay. What is your complaint?" He resumed his bored drawl.

"Well, the roof fell in on my house. And last night it rained and I got wet."

"And why can't you fix it?"

"Well, I spent all of my money on lotto tickets and life insurance. And with the rest, I bought my son serving in the service a new shiny suit of armor."

Denethor wiped the spit off of his face from that last monsoon of spit before asking, "And what do you want me to do it."

"I want restitution for the money that I spent."

"Granted." Denethor said, all too relieved to get rid of the spitting menace. "How much did you spend?"

"Three hundred thirty three thousand six hundred thirty three gondorians(1)."

Denethor grimaced and wiped the flood of spit off of his face. "Very well. You will receive your restitution. Leave now."

Spensorio smiled. "Thank you, Steward." He said before he was dragged out of the room.

Once Spensorio was forcibly extracted from the room, Denethor groaned and wiped the remaining spit from his face. "What was that lisp all about?" He asked one of his advisors.

"I believe that's what they call a 'Minis Tirith Lisp.'"

Denethor groaned and massaged his temples. "This is going to be a long day."

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(1)- We didn't know what the currency was for Gondor was, so we made one up. If anyone knows what it really is, please tell us and we'll change it.

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Mina and Nari: Please R&R!