Author's Note: Ooops, I forgot to add this the first time that I posted this story….

I do not own the characters, the setting, or the one ring—all I own are a few little funnies and the industry to type them all up. Sir Percy from "The Scarlet Pimpernel" belongs to Baroness Orczy, and Frodo, Sam, Gollum, Faramir, etc. belong to Tolkien. I thought a cameo by Sir Percy Blakeny, the Scarlet Pimpernel, would be hilarious. He may be back later. If you would like more of this parody, then please review it!!! If you like what you see here then please take a peek at my other stories. And did I mention that you are free to review this???

Frodo and Sam trudged on behind Gollum. They had been trudging for the past few days through the rocks and the marshes. They hoped to be at the gate of Mordor soon, but as to how they would get inside, they had no idea. Walking was almost mechanical to them now. Instead of thinking about where they were stepping, Sam was wishing for the finest feast that the Shire could offer, while Frodo and Gollum were obsessing over the ring. Finally they arrived at the black gate.

Trying to hide behind some boulders, the three crouched on a rise overlooking the valley that contained the gate. The gate was open for the line of Haradrim soldiers who were entering Mordor. "I have to go in," Frodo said with weary resolve.

"I'm coming with you, Mister Frodo," Sam said stoutly.

"Thank you, Sam," Frodo said, wondering how they were supposed to get in without getting caught. He started to creep over the boulder he was hiding behind. Sam followed.

"I say, wait a moment!" Someone called to them.

"No, hobbitses—" Gollum said, pulling them backwards. Suddenly, someone started to pull Gollum backwards, who was pulling Sam backwards (to keep him from following Frodo), while Sam was pulling Frodo backwards. Frodo, intent on getting to the gate before it closed, hung on to the boulder.

Eventually, Frodo's fingers slipped off of the rock. He fell onto Sam, who slammed into Gollum, who landed on top of the stranger. Gollum immediately sprang to the side, crouched ready to attack.

"Bring it, precious," Gollum croaked.

"I said, 'wait a moment,'" the stranger said for the second time. He was twice the height of the hobbits, with blond hair and lazy blue eyes. His tall, shiny boots, white breeches, yellow striped waistcoat, blue and gold embroidered coat, and white frilled shirt with a matching cravat were impeccably clean and particularly expensive.

"Who are you?" Frodo asked, confused. "And why are you here at the black gate of Mordor?"

"Well," the stranger drawled very Britishly, "I could very well ask you the same questions. But, pardon me," he bowed, "my name is Sir Percival Blakeny. And I know that you," he pointed to Frodo, "are Frodo, you are Sam, and that you are a singular acquaintance of theirs called Gollum."

Frodo, Sam, and Gollum looked at each other, each thoroughly confounded. Finally Sam shrugged. This ended the silent who-is-this-freak-who-knows-who-we-are? staring contest. Frodo breathed a sigh of relief when the staring contest was over. Staring at Gollum for any amount of time made him a little nervous.

"I am here to help my fellow British citizens against the dark threat of Mordor," Sir Percy said, as if his popping up was the most natural thing in the world.

"Erm, there seems to be a slight problem with that," Frodo said. He shuddered as he realized that he was more deadpan than usual from spending so much time with the ring. He shuddered.

"Sink me, and what would that be?"

"We are not British," Frodo said shortly.

Sir Percy was even more amused than usual. "You have British accents," he chuckled.

"Actually," Sam cut in, "we're from the Shire which is very, very, very far north of here, a land of goodness, and hobbits, and plenty."

"Oh, well, in that case," Sir Percy turned on his heel and walked away, muttering about French actresses, fine wine, cravats, and wondering how he had gotten in to this story in the first place. None of this made sense to the hobbits.

Once Sir Percy was gone, Frodo and Sam glanced at each other, and burst into fits of laughter. They then kept laughing because Gollum was staring at them, comically confused, and because they had not laughed for a long time. They worried that they had forgotten how to laugh here, at the black gate of Mordor.

Once Frodo and Sam had recovered their composure, Gollum hissed, "There is another way inside, hobbitses."

"Another way?" Frodo said, eyes lighting up with hope. Sam refrained from commenting. Frodo was the brains of this outfit, not him.

"Yessss, yesss, another way," Gollum said, rolling his eyes. "Drive south on interstate 78 then make a detour around Cincinnati. Then up, up, up the stairs we go, hobbitses."

"Very well, Gollum," Frodo sighed, taking one more long look at the black gate. He wished he was in Mordor, but driving there would be faster than walking.

"What are we driving?" Sam asked, also excited not to be walking.

"That was sarcasm, hobbitses," Gollum said, as if he was explaining the concept to a pair of small children.

"Oh," Frodo and Sam said together, neither really understanding.

"Follow me, hobbitses," Gollum said, setting off again.

They trudged many miles toward the South. That was before the interstate was put in, and even before the city of Cincinnati was built. During that time, Frodo, Sam, or Gollum would notice green-cloaked people following them. By the time they would turn their heads for a better look, the stealthy green men were gone.

One day, the three decided to rest for a little while and have a proper lunch. They stopped in an adorable little clearing and Gollum mysteriously melted into the weeds. Frodo took a nap by the fire while Sam did all of the work, trying to make some soup. Frodo was woken abruptly from his nap; Gollum had put something on his lap: two dead rabbits.

"OH MY GOSH!" Frodo screamed, leaping to his feet. "You killed the bunnies. They were so little and cute AND YOU KILLED THEM. Waaaaaaa!" Frodo sobbed hysterically over the bunnies' furry, dead bodies.

Sam hugged Frodo protectively. "The bunnies aren't dead, Mister Frodo," Sam said comfortingly. "They are just….asleep. That's right, just asleep."

"Really?" Frodo said, tears glistening in his huge blue eyes.

"Yes, would I ever lie to you?" Sam said. An uncomfortable silence followed. "Anyway," Sam cleared his throat, "wipe your nose, Mister Frodo." Frodo obediently wiped his nose on the hem of Sam's cloak and tried to stop sniveling. "Now," Sam began, with a pointed look at Gollum, "Old Golly-wolly is going to take the bunnies out into the bushes, wake them up, and set them free."

Gollum glared at Sam, muttering something about being called "Golly-wolly." He carried the rabbits into the brush.

"Go on, blow your nose," Sam prompted.

"Okay," Frodo sniffed. He blew his nose again, very, very loudly. It could be heard echoing back to them from the far-off mountains. An avalanche began in the distance.

Instantly, the clearing was surrounded by the green men that had been trailing them. "Do not put up a fight, but allow yourself to come quietly," their commander said. He was the spitting image of Boromir, but younger, and his face showed less conceit than his brother's had.

"Why should we?" Sam said, bravely trying to put himself between their capturers and Frodo. Because they were surrounded, this was rather difficult to do.

"Because we are bigger, stronger, and have arrows pointed at your heads," the commander said matter-of-factly.

"Fine," Frodo said wearily, "on one condition."

"Yes?" the commander said, raising one eyebrow.

"Tell us who you are…" Frodo demanded.

"Oh yes, that," the commander said, "I am Faramir, brother of Boromir, and son of the steward of Gondor, Denethor."

"Thank you, Faramir," Frodo said, stepping forward. "We surrender."

"What are you thinking, Mister Frodo?" Sam whispered.

"Unless you can pull a Chuck Norris, we would never escape these men alive," Frodo said out of the side of his mouth. "Follow my lead…Plus," Frodo added, "they'll feed us—I'm sick and tired of lembas. And maybe they'll have beds where ever they are taking us. I'd like to sleep somewhere other than the ground for a little while. It will be like a stay at an inn. Assuming that these men do not violate the by-laws of the Geneva Convention…"

"Brilliant, Mister Frodo," Sam muttered under his breath as he was blindfolded by Faramir's men. Maybe these men had some rabbit stew…Hmm. Maybe being captured wasn't that bad after all.