The way Aragorn saw it, he and Faramir had gotten the short end of the stick. There he was, in the middle of a thick forest, attempting to teach Merry and Pippin how to fight. Gandalf had ordered the two men to instruct the two hobbits in exchange for a bedtime surprise.
Merry and Pippin pulled out their little swords, eager for the training session to begin. Aragon cleared his throat. "Merry, Pippin… I think Gandalf meant for us to instruct you on the use of these swords." He motioned to the weapon sheathed in his belt, not his pants.
"Oh, right," Merry replied, sheathing his penis and nudging Pippin. "They mean the bigger ones."
Pippin grinned in reply as he zipped up. "I guess we have a bit more of a chance now."
"Hey," Merry added, "Where's Faramir? Wasn't he supposed to be here too?"
Aragorn glanced around. Indeed, Faramir was awfully late. "I guess we'll just have to start without him," he stated ruefully.
He whipped out his very long, handsome sword and instructed the hobbits to do the same. Merry successfully drew his sword, but Pippin was having a little trouble.
"Here." Aragorn pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. "Rub this on your sword. It should make pulling out easier."
Pippin took the bottle. The label read 'lube.' He hadn't listened to a word Aragorn had said, and he was very interested in this 'lube.'
"Cheers!" he shouted, bringing the bottle to his mouth and tearing the top off with his teeth before inhaling the contents.
Merry stood with his mouth gaping for a moment before he found his voice. "What good did that do, Pip, unless… you're a sword eater?"
Aragorn grabbed the empty bottle from Pippin's fingers. "I'll just have to get more from Faramir," he sighed. "Oh, and that's poisonous."
"Is he gonna die, Aragorn?" Merry gasped, poking at Pippin's enlarged head. Actually, Pippin's 'little sword' was expanding and growing at an accelerated pace.
"Maybe not," Aragorn said, checking his other pocket. "It appears I've put my lube and Viagra juice in the wrong bottles again."
"Oh, thank goodness," Merry said. "Wow. His willy is almost the size of Gandalf's!"
Aragorn wondered when Merry had earned himself a 'bedtime surprise.'
Suddenly, Faramir leapt into the scene. He was covered in a slick, transparent liquid that would've shone in the sun if he wasn't in the middle of a forest.
"Faramir!" Merry shouted. "Where have you been?"
"With Gandalf," the man replied, oil dripping from his little beard. "I was getting a down payment on that 'bedtime surprise.'"
Pippin moaned and fell to the ground, willy side up.
"Dear God, what happened to him?" Faramir exclaimed, pointing at the masticating hobbit.
Apparently, Pippin had found something chewy in the back of his throat after ingesting the Viagra juice and was now gnawing on it whilst trying to control his savage urge to fuck the first hole he saw.
Before Aragorn or Merry could answer, an extremely excited Faramir knocked them aside with his woody and went to rub sticks with Pippin. Unfortunately, when one rubs two sticks together, the result is a spark that can light a passionate fire.
And alas, Faramir lit up like a Christmas tree that had been chopped into firewood and doused in lighter fluid. That's okay, though, children, because later that night there was more Gandalf for the remaining three.