The King of the Ringssssssss, Precioussss

Warning: Use extreme Caution!

This story is only for people who have seen Lord of the Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and The Chronicles of Narnia. All those who have not, then please take notice.

Disclaimer: Don't own LOTR... whatever...

Chapter 1: The Genesis of the Quest

Once there was a hobbit who found a ring. Not just any old ring, not a ring that was beat up, not a ring that was hundreds of years old and happened to be made by Sauron. Well, never mind. Anyway, the ring passed to a young dude hobb by de name of Frodo. Now this guy had it good, nice house, nice garden, an uncle who was always looking at his stupid old ring. I mean, c'mon Uncle Bill, it's just a ring. You can stop looking at it now. As I was saying, this Frodo got sent on a mission to get to a village called Bree. This old wizard dude named Gandalf made him go.

"Frodo my lad," he said, "this ring is evil and needs to be destroyed. This task was appointed to you, and if you do not find a way, no one will."

"Hey, that was Galadriel's line," Frodo protested.

"Who cares, just shut your mouth and get movin'!" Gandalf shouted, booting Frodo out the door. "And bring your gardener boy Sam with you, or you'll die," Gandalf called. So Frodo did.

On his way to Bree, Frodo stumbled upon some annoying cousins of his, Merry and Pippin. After being chased by some lunatics in black hoods on black horses, (asylum staff, please make sure you count your whackos each day, so a thing like this won't happen again) the four hobbs ended in Bree. When they got to the inn at Bree, Frodo met a pal of Gandalf's called Strider.

"Wassup, Frods, how's it goin' these days?" he said.

"Uh, not bad at all now that you mention it. But now that you ask, I have been having a little trouble with some black riders who-" Frodo started to say.

"Oh, that's nice," Strider interrupted, "those are just some old kings who got into that bad guy Sauron. He's not too deck, if ya know what I mean." He winked at Frodo.

"Ummm, that's nice and all, but could you help us? We are in kind of a dilemma, if you follow me," said Frodo, not quite figuring this guy out.

"Hey, that's what I'm supposed to say," Sam cut in.

"Too bad for ya, Sammy boy," Strider said, "now how 'bout we go hunt some horse. We'll go to Rivendell where there are some old pals of mine. And a real sweet girl," he added.

Frodo thought for a minute. "Okay," he said, "but I don't care a chrysanthemum about the first part. But the last part sounds good."

"Hey, whatever ya say, Frods," Strider said, "we'll just keep it cool, if ya take my meaning." he winked again. Frodo's cousin, Pippin, was feeling more uncomfortable by the second. "Um, how do we know if you're a friend of us?" he asked.

"If I'm a friend, I'll cut off your head, that's what I always say," Strider said.

"What!" the four hobbits shouted.

"Er, what I mean is you can trust me because...because I'll buy you each another pint of beer if you'll let me lead you to Rivendell. Hey, maybe I'll be nice and shoot some deer for you on the way. If someone can cook venison, it's me," Strider added nervously.

"It's 'It is I'," Frodo corrected, being a grammar freak.

"Whatever," Strider shrugged.

Merry was thoroughly convinced. "Okay!" he said enthusiastically, "when does the beer part come in?"

"Whenever ya want, me boy," Strider said.

"Cool, dude," Merry said, starting for the door.

"You've had a whole half already," Sam protested.

"Eh, what's it matter," Merry said, opening the door.

"It matters to me," Pippin said, "I'm getting one." Sam shook his head in defeat. "I give up," he grumbled.
After they had their beer, the company went up to their room.

"Wait, chaps," Strider said, "something's up. Can ya hear that racket?" Everyone listened and heard a familiar screech. Maybe it was the director's wife, but then again, maybe it wasn't. Actually it was the same lunatics from the dreaded Minas Morgul Asylum, and they were coming nearer.

"Quick!" Strider shouted, "Follow me!" he led the frightened, but not nearly frightened enough troop of hobbits to the other inn where they hid.

"But we're only across the street," Frodo said, "They could still have a good chance of finding us."

"Cool your cucumbers, Frods," Strider said casually. "Those ash trays don't have a bit of a clue where we are."

"Then how come they're in our old room right now?" Sam asked, pointing to the opposite window. Strider and the rest of the gang looked and saw their beds turn to fluff when the Black Beauties stabbed them over and over again. (They never quite got over it when they saw Sauron kill all those good guys. But hey, be that as it may, they shouldn't take it out on innocent bed covers.) Then the guys watched the dark dudes scream in frustration, then leave with hoofs pounding in the dark.

"So now what do you think about horse hunting?" Frodo asked Strider.

"I think it's a totally deck decision," Strider said, pulling out his sword.

"But you said that-"

"Eh, never mind what I just said," Strider said, thrusting his sword quickly back into its sheath. "Let's just forget the whole thing and have another beer to celebrate our exciting escapade."

"Ohh, yeah!" Pippin and Merry said.

"Ohh, no!" Sam protested, "Not this again!"

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