Adrift, adrift...as any mind subjected to percocet...
Though the effects of the poison slowly wore off, Frodo remained in the sweetest of sleep. Images of various things appeared in his little hobbit head...memories of Uncle Bilbo and the Shire...gruesome visions of slain orcs and trolls...a centerfold of Sam in a speedo... Wait a minute...speedo?
Frodo briefly flinched before returning to a calm state.
The thong was definitely a better choice for modeling.
Down below, Samwise Gamgee was charging up the staircase like a mofo on angel dust. He was driven by his desire to save Frodo and all of Middle-earth in the process. On the other hand, this rage might have had something to do with Mr. Astin having been screwed out of a much-deserved nomination by recent awards shows. But since RPF (Real Person Fiction) is prohibited by 's guidelines, I won't get into that. Anyway...
By the time Sam had reached the top, he had sliced through the gut of five orcs, taken the assginity of three, and cleaved one orc in twain. Not bad if I do say so myself.
He made it to the very top to find Frodo "entertaining" another orc.
No, NOT like that, you sickos.
The orc thought Frodo a tasty treat, and began nibbling on his little hobbit toe. Witnessing this infuriated Sam.
"Time to meet your maker!" declared the pint-sized fatty before charging forward at his enemy.
The orc took one final slurp before drawing back. "Maker? Ah, yes. Saruman and the other orcs, they-"
He didn't get to finish his reply before a stout blade gently hummed across his neck at the speed of light. Or at least it appeared that way until the grotesque creature ceased all speech and movement. Time stood still, and then without warning, the orc's skillfully separated head catapulted clear to the roof, shot up by the pressure of the crimson geyser now gushing relentlessly through the cavity of his neck.
Still spraying massive volumes of blood, the body fell over sideways, providing a glossy red finish to the grime-coated floor below. The freshly severed head reentered the room's atmosphere a moment later, landing upright on Frodo's midsection with a splat.
"Ow," it said, and then rolled over to join its bodily counterpart.
"Well, I'll be, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, rushing to his companion's side. "You're all right!"
"S...Sam!" Frodo finally uttered. "I...I..."
"It's okay, Mr. Frodo. I've got your ring."
"Nevermind that, certain parts of my body down below have informed me it's freezing. Let me borrow your bomber jacket."
"But Mr. Frodo, bomber jackets don't exist in Middle-earth."
"Huh. What are the odds of that happening?"
"I'd say twenty to one, Mr. Frodo."
"Well, fuck my ass," said Frodo in disappointment, struggling to free his bound wrists. "Well, nevermind. Can you cut these knots? They're ruining the wrist on my good masturbatory hand and it's starting to get on my nerves."
"Sure thing, Mr. Frodo." Sam swung his sword down, but alas, the rope was fighting the good fight. No matter how many times he swung or cut or sawed, the rope would not relent.
"Try to untie it instead," suggested the captive hobbit as he hopped off the table.
"All right." But just as Sam got his hands on the rope, an earthquake came out of nowhere. It lasted all of three-fourths of a second and served solely one purpose: slashpose.
Basically, Frodo had fallen backward with Sam on top of him, the fat hobbit still gripping the rope. I'd have him gripping something else, but bear with me as this is only level one slash.
"Sam?"
"Yes, Mr. Frodo?"
"I'm very, very happy to see you."
"Your hard wood told me that much, Mr. Frodo."
"Yes," sighed Frodo. "I was so eager to get out of here I must have smeared the orc's blood all over this hard wooden table."
"Well," said Sam as he moved back, "I think we're both eager to get out of here." He cleared enough space between them to give the author a much-desired look at Frodo. God bless Frodo in the movie for having an actor with a navel as cute as his. But again, I'm not allowed to talk about that.
Sam finally freed Frodo's wrists of the S&M material. This act alone was enough to warm Frodo's hobbit heart, and the two shared a very tender glance. It was at this moment seeds of sweet homosexual love were planted in their hearts, set to sprout in mid-December of the year 2001, which coincidentally was around the time of the BGSEP (Baggins-Gamgee Slash Explosion Period) on .
"Let's go," said the amazingly agile blond with a smile before effortlessly swinging his sword back into the crotch of some swiftly approaching orc. "Here's your ring. Mt. Doom awaits."
Frodo smiled and placed the chain around his neck. "I need to get dressed. I can't stand it anymore. My cock's already shriveled up."
"That's what happens when you bring pets along," Sam scolded as Frodo tossed aside the physically petrified chicken. He threw his friend a shirt. "Here, Mr. Frodo."
While Frodo dressed, Sam headed for the stairwell, where he was promptly beaten to death by seven hundred approaching Mary Sues that had taken the nonsexual situation completely out of context. Actually, Sam had been killed in the Sue stampede first, but some Sues take the 'Make sure he or she is dead' rule quite seriously.
They all then turned their attention to Frodo. Fifty-seven or so of them wet themselves at first glance. He was so cute! Or at least that's what the movie showed!
Frodo was frightened. In the next moment he was bombarded with dozens of marriage proposals. Who were these girls? Why did they feel the need to hook him up? Why were they so threatened by the idea of homosexuality, or even just any existing love interest? These questions and more swirled together in Frodo's mind, forming a mountain of retarded he could not begin to understand.
"Why did you kill my best friend?" he demanded.
"Friend?" one of them asked.
"Yes, friend. You know, a person I share a completely platonic, nonromantic, nonsexual relationship with?"
"Please! He wanted to fuck you!" declared an elf Sue, Arwen's third cousin twice removed who had had eyes for Frodo the moment he entered Rivendell.
"He did not!" protested Frodo. "He wanted to marry Rosie!"
"Don't lie to us!" shrieked a hobbit Sue, the elder sister of Merry and a sexy bitchin' swordswoman all around. Despite her often emphasized beauty, her red face, flared nostrils, and contiguous eyebrows made her present appearance no better than that of an orc. "We saw the whole thing! He was looking at your ass when you bent over!"
"...But I didn't bend over."
"Yes you did! In Moria when you tripped over a dwarf corpse and dropped all your stuff! You were gathering up everything when Sam looked over and popped a boner. And then you two snuck off to some roach-infested chamber where you had passionate, unprotected sex for hours!"
"Um, I think you have the storyline confused with someone's slash fic," said Frodo.
"It doesn't matter anyway," another Sue replied calmly. The only human in the mix, she had joined the Sue bandwagon after hearing Frodo gave great head. But that would be giving too much credit to any race capable of mastering oral sex without ever having to get down on the knees. "Homosexual or heterosexual, you will be our husband."
"Wh-what?" exclaimed Frodo. "Wait a minute. There are seven hundred of you. And what makes you think I'm so ready and willing to commit to anyone?"
"If you're not, we have the power to make you. Long live Microsoft Internet Explorer! Long live Lord of the Rings fanfiction sites!"
But just as the crowd was about to join in the cheer, another group of seven hundred piled into the room. Donning epidermal scatterplots of acne and mythril chastity belts, they were the slashers. You know, the ones who write about kissing and rubbing and buttsex between Frodo and Sam, as well as others. So much storybook love in the making.
"Where's Sam?" asked frodoandsamforever696969.
"I don't see him," replied frodolovessam13.
"Think he's hiding?" sam_tosses_frodos_salad_in_mordor wondered aloud.
"Ahem." Arwen's third cousin twice removed stepped forward. "You're too late. We already killed him. You guys are standing on top of him."
A wave of shocked gasps and the slasher group parted to form a circle around the badly battered corpse of the fat hobbit.
"But why?" ~*~SwEeT*hObBiT*lOvE~*~ sobbed hysterically.
"We knew you were coming..." the human Sue said quietly before lifting her face. "...Queer loving bitches!"
"Ooohh!" snarled Queen_Frodo_Gamgee, the slashers' leader. "I might've known! You bunch of hos who can't accept that Frodo doesn't love you and never will!" She quickly found an arrow being aimed at her face.
"You take that back," ATCTR (Arwen's third cousin twice removed) ordered, more than willing to fire.
"Hell no!" said Queen. "You killed Sam, his one true love!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Merry's elder sister. "We're his true love, not Sam!"
"In your dreams," said frodoandsamforever696969. She placed her index fingers on either side of the tip of her nose where a nipple-sized zit was making a happy home and smashed it with all her might. The rupturing result caused a thick, yellowish glop to leap forward and splatter against the hobbit Sue's face.
The female hobbit could only let out muffled screams as the rancid substance seemed to grow and spread all over her face. She tried her best to pull it off with her hands, but it had already blocked her breathing passages. Too weary to struggle, the Sue dropped to the floor and died.
"Arrggghh!" ATCTR screamed. "Sues! Draw weapons! Now!" When the command was followed, she brought her gaze back to Queen, praying that looks could kill. "I know what you intend. Since Sam is dead, you're going to slash him with Pippin."
"Oh, fuck Pippin," said Queen scornfully. "He could do a lot better. Like Aragorn!"
Another round of gasps, but this time from the Sue group.
"My sister has dibs on Aragorn, you swine!" the human Sue howled.
"That does it! You are not getting Frodo!" ATCTR released the arrow, striking dead the first slasher to amalgamate Frodo's and Sam's names into one scary fusion term.
"Slashers!" Queen shouted. "Ready!" All slashers drew their weapons which were, appropriately enough, swords.
"Sues, attack!"
"Gooooo!" Queen commanded.
In the midst of all the ass-kicking and life-taking, one young hobbit was left to decide his own fate. Both groups had completely forgotten about Frodo. And so, the hobbit scrambled to the window and dove out like any sane person would.
Some say he died that day. But in actuality, he was rescued by Gandalf. Some say this heroic act opened Frodo's heart to Gandalf, while others say he ended up banging a non-Sue female hobbit back home. No one knows. But one thing is for sure...debates regarding love interests, or lack thereof, would go on for many, many decades. Granted the participants were fans of at least one person in the coupling.
AD 2001, December 23
A young teenage boy was chuckling to himself as he completed typing something on an internet message board. It hadn't been too long since his visit to the movie theatre, and he was about to share his thoughts on the film he had seen not too long ago. He reread his post title with a laugh.
"Frotos...Faggot, or a weak creature? (LotR)"
He laughed again as he clicked the Enter key. But his celebration was cut short as a translucent blade swiped across both his wrists.
"Huh?" He looked up to see the apparition of a fat hobbit glaring at him. The boy then brought his gaze downward as two red lines formed on his skin, his hands separating from his wrists and dropping to the floor.
"Damn," he said. "Now what am I going to wank off with?"
Outside, the ghost of Samwise Gamgee began floating to the sky. He smiled as he faded into the blackness, a soul content with his actions.
"You've been avenged, Mr. Frodo. You've been avenged."