Notes: These characters aren't mine, though I wish they were. This is just a weird little thing I came up with while I was talking to my friends at lunch one day. I do so hope you enjoy it, and please review. Oh, and just for the record, none of these thoughts are Holocaust references, and I'm sorry if you get that idea. It was merely coincidence, and was not my intention.



Punishment and Slave Labor



"…so I said that they could just have their mushrooms if they wanted them so bad, and then I ran off with the carrots!" Pippin finished triumphantly.

"If I had misbehaved so as a child, my father would have strapped me to an anvil and beaten me!" Gimli stated, pounding the handle of his axe on the ground for emphasis.

"Well," Pippin replied, munching enthusiastically on a piece of venison, "I was such a cute little Hobbit that no one ever wanted to punish me."

"You know that's a lie!" Merry objected, playfully punching Pippin in the arm. "Your mother would send you to bed without dinner, and you know it."

"No I don't! It was so traumatic that my memory blocked it out! Besides, your father used to make you garden for one week, per mushroom you had stolen."

"What's so bad about that?" Sam asked, feeling confused and slightly offended. He loved gardening. What was so bad about it?

"He had to do it in a dress!" Pippin finished while struggling to keep Merry from boxing him for saying it.

"Oh…," the others nodded.

"Lord Elrond would just lecture me for hours on proper behavior. It was so excruciatingly dull that I would behave so he wouldn't have a reason to lecture me," Aragorn shrugged, before turning to Boromir. "What about you?"

Boromir spit out the piece of grass he had been idly chewing on (much to the horror of Legolas), and stated proudly. "I was never punished. All the drinking, fighting, womanizing and carousing I did were looked upon as signs of my manliness. Did I mention that I'm my father's favorite?"

"Sounds like you need to get your crown back soon, if that is what the Steward of Gondor wants his sons to be doing," Legolas murmured to Aragorn, who nodded emphatically.

"I used to get spanked, until I moved in with Uncle Bilbo," Frodo said, adding his own bit to the conversation.

"My Gaffer used to bury my feet in dirt and make me stand there for hours," Sam told them. Everyone looked at him rather strangely. "I grew to like it so much that I would bury my won feet in dirt, just for fun!" he went on. A few members of the Fellowship scooted away from the happily grinning Hobbit.

"I was never young," Gandalf remarked, puffing on his pipe, "And I never misbehaved."

"Do your parents know that you smoke?" Pippin asked.

"I don't have parents, you foolish Hobbit."

"Oh yeah."

"So, Elf-boy, what happened when you acted up? Did your parents take away your hair brush or something?" Gimli asked suddenly, glancing at Legolas who turned very pale.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Of course, this just made everyone decide that they had to know, and they pressured him until he gave in.

"Okay, okay. Fine. You see, I was a very bad child. When I was five, I was the terror of Mirkwood. I would break dishes, scare Elven maidens with snakes, shoot people with arrows and track mud all over. My father used to say that if I didn't behave, I would be taken to the sweatshop with all the other bad little Elves. Needless to say, I thought he was laying and continued being bad." Here he paused, shuddering.

"So then what happened?" Merry asked, leaning forward eagerly.

Bravely, Legolas continued, though his voice and hands shook with remembered terror. "I was sitting in a tree one day, throwing acorns at the heads of anyone who came within range, when I heard them. The bells. A deceptively pleasant sound. Little did I know what it meant! Oh! If only I had known!'

"The next thing I knew, I had been picked up by a fat man in a red suit who looked at me and said, 'You've been very naughty. Now I will take you to be punished!'"

"Who was he?" Sam asked.

Legolas shook his head, so Aragorn jumped in with his knowledge of Elven lore. "He was called Saint Nick my Men in the early days, and Santa Claus by the Elves. The name means 'Terror of Elves'. No one knows where he came from, or what he is, though some suspect he was a Maiar sent by Morgoth to plague the Elves he hated." He turned to Legolas. "I always thought he was a myth."

"He isn't. Trust me. So, he took me to his home where I was clothed in a humiliating green outfit with bells and green pointy shoes. Then he shoved me into a sweatshop with other naughty young Elves. I labored there, making toy after cheap plastic toy for years, until I turned twelve. You see, he only wants young workers. At the age of twelve, the girls are sent to become concubines, and the boys he sends to the gas chamber, cremates the bodies, and scatters the ashes on the refuse pile."

Now Frodo was morbidly curious. "Why age twelve?"

"Because that's about the age that children begin getting rebellious, and he's too lazy to deal with a revolt," Legolas explained.

"Oh."

"Anyway, I reached my twelfth year, and along with a few of the other boys, I was herded out on the way to the gas chamber. Now, it just so happened that the demon's wife was standing nearby and saw us, taking a particular interest in me. She turned to her husband who was following us with a whip, and begged him to stop.'

'What is it, woman?' he demanded.

'Please, spare that beautiful blond boy,' she pleaded, pointing at me.

'Why should I? He was naughty!'

"I'm sure he's learned his lesson by now!' she continued, clasping her hands together and looking at him imploringly. 'I always wanted a child. I could raise him as my own!'

'Fool bitch!' he snapped. 'You just want him as a sex toy when he gets older!'

Suddenly she got angry, 'So what if I do? It's not like you're giving me any excitement!'

"The argument went on, but I'll never know how it ended. You see, the group decided to make a break for it while he was distracted. I don't know how many got away from that horrible place. I may well be the only survivor. All I know is that I ran for weeks and months, and finally I got home. From that point on, I was the most well behaved little Elfling that anyone had ever seen."

Everyone stared at him in awe. Then Boromir spoke. "I always thought Santa was supposed to be a good guy. I mean, he always brought me lots of toys."

"Made at the expense of poor young Elves!" Legolas snapped, but before he could make a fuss about it, he heard bells behind him. "AHHHHH!" he screamed, leaping into Gimli's arms. Gimli promptly dropped him, so he crawled over to Aragorn and clung to his leg for dear life.

"Pippin! Put that away!" Aragorn yelled at the Hobbit, while trying to pry Legolas off of him.

"Aww, okay…," Pippin grumbled, obeying and putting the small silver bell back into his pack from which he had pulled it. Making the usually calm and collected Elf panic had been fun!

It was two hours before Legolas was calm enough to let go of Aragorn's leg, and for weeks afterward he had nightmares.

BOYCOTT SANTA! HE USES ELVES FOR SLAVE LABOR!