Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Dodgeball
The Fellowship filed out one by one and arranged themselves in a straight line along the back wall of the gym. Each was carrying two spiked metal balls in his hands, the Hobbits struggling greatly to simply hold the heavy balls aloft.
Across the opposite wall, the vile Orcs lined up. There was Lurtz, Ugluk, Shagrat, and numerous unnamed creatures, snarling in intimidation. Elrond, the ref, raised a large flag high up in the air. The Fellowship exercised their hands as the Orcs foamed at the mouth.
"Ready!" shouted Elrond, "Set! Dodgeball!" Elrond flung the flag down and leapt out of the way. That was when the balls started flying. First off, the Orcs pulled a trap door and Gandalf plunged down a chasm.
"Fly you fools!" he shouted as he fell. The Fellowship members exchanged quizzical glances.
"Fly?" said Sam. "We can't fly! I don't have any wings!"
"Most likely he meant, 'Dodge you fools!'" pointed out Legolas, catching a large spiked ball.
"Yeoww!!" he cried, trying to pull his impaled hands apart.
"You're out!" Elrond called to the orc who had thrown it.
"Ashdautas vrasbutlut!" mumbled the orc as he slinked away. The elf quickly dodged another, deciding he wouldn't rather like to catch another one. Boromir jumped in front of the Hobbits, who were still struggling to pick up the first ball.
"I'll protect you!" he called over his shoulder. He lobbed two balls simultaneously at the Orcs, spiking two at once.
"Yeah!" cheered Merry and Pippin, giving a high five. "Nice job, big guy." Frodo and Sam managed to pick up one ball using their combined strengths. They threw it, but it only flew up two feet in a path resembling a downward parabola and landed on Gimli's toe.
"Aughh!!" grunted Gimli, hopping up and down holding his stubby toe. "Ish caquin I da rug nul!"
Suddenly, Boromir was struck by a barbed sphere in the chest, projecting him back twenty feet.
"Alright! Alright!" said Boromir, charging forward in rage. "You asked for it! No more Mr. Nice Boromir!" Lurtz had thrown that one. Boromir took one look at the row of Orcs.
"I bet it was you!" yelled Boromir, pointing at Lurtz. "You'll pay for this! You ruined my best shirt!" So he picked up three loose dodgeballs and hurled them with hurricane force at the Orcs.
"Eeeeee!!!" they shrieked as they were bombarded. That took out about 3.5 Uruks and one chicken orc. Lurtz finally picked up two of the thrown balls and tossed them back at Boromir.
"Ah ha ha ha!" yelled Boromir dodging. But he didn't dodge fast enough. He got spiked!
"Aughh!" shrieked the son of Denethor. He pulled out the Horn of Gondor and blew three quick horn blasts.
"The Horn of Gondor!" said Legolas in awe. Boromir ripped the ornery little orbs out of his chest and launched them forcefully at the Orcs.
"Eeheheheheheeee!!" yelped the miscellaneous Orcs as they were crushed beyond repair. Then, Boromir fell over dead.
"Aughh!' said Aragorn. "I'll think I'll go left-handed." He lobbed the biggest lead ball he could find in the general direction of Lurtz. It easily took off the uruk's head as it passed.
"Yay!" said Aragorn. "Always works like a charm! You're such a good left hand, yes you are! Yes you are!"
"Prison ball!" announced Ugluk as he breezed past, snatching up Merry and Pippin.
"Muhahahahahaha!" he laughed.
"Wargs!" exclaimed Legolas. "We have to get them back."
"Ah! Help! Help!" cried Merry and Pippin from the other side.
"Hey guys!" said Elrond with a whistle. "Now in order to throw, you have to be sitting at the time the ball leaves your hand. And you can go to the half-court mark. Got it! Dodgeball!"
Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli all ran to-wards the dodgeballs that were lined up in row at the half-court line. They speedily slid to the ground, grabbing some dodgeballs. Gimli went mad with excitement and threw tremendously large barbed metal balls at the Orcs, blowing Ugluk and a few other Orcs to the ground. Legolas and Aragorn hurled a couple of spiked spheres towards Merry and Pippin so they could kill one of the Orcs and come back. The balls landed right at their feet, virtually obliterating the wooden floor in their wake. The Hobbits couldn't find the strength to pick them up, so Merry and Pippin pulled some surplus throwing stars out of their pockets and hurled them skillfully at two unwary Uruks, namely Grishnakh and Ugluk. Pippin's star merely whizzed over his Orc's head, giving him an army buzz. Merry's was more successful. It sliced into Grishnakh's upper back and was left quivering as the creature pitched forward headlong. The two Hobbits dashed across Orc Territory until they came to the other side.
"Yay," said Merry and Pippin mutually.
Snaga, one of the Orcs, grabbed a smooth dodgeball and threw it at Frodo and Sam. Unfortunately for Snaga, the ball missed the Hobbits by a hair's breadth. They stopped it abruptly and rammed it with all of their might back at him. It shot along the floor, like a ball at the bowling alley, and knocked Snaga's legs right out from under him. He was out cold.
"Yes!" cheered Frodo, doing a little victory dance. Elrond blew the whistle.
"Now," he said, "you have to be standing on your head to throw the dodgeball." A collective hush fell over all.
"On your head?!" asked Gimli, staggered. "I think the sun's finally gotten to you, Elrond ol' chap."
"Yes," continued Elrond, ignoring the dwarf. "On your head."
"This is madness!" exclaimed Aragorn. "I should have your wig for this! Snatch it right off your head!"
"It's not a wig, Estel!" growled Elrond in warning.
"Ok, I'll be good now," said Aragorn with a girlish whimper.
"Dodgeball!" cued Elrond. Gimli waddled to the half-court line and knelt down, endeavoring to balance his stubby body on his head. He nearly succeeded, but then, he went off balance and began tottering like a top losing speed. Finally, he fell like a piece of worthless lumber and crashed heavily to the floor. The Uruks would have snickered at him, but they were far to occupied with trying to balance on their heads themselves. Legolas strode forward to have a go at it.
"I ought to have some skill at this," he said. "I was the camp champ last year at the elvish sport of head-hopping." His eyes deepened wistfully. "Aw, those were the days."
"Snap out of it!" shrieked Frodo.
"Oh," said Legolas. "Right. Where was I?"
"You were about to use your head," apprised Sam.
"Precisely," came the reply.
Snatching a few balls from the background, he came presently to the half-court line and easily balanced himself on his head. Grasping a spiked ball, he launched the dodgeball right at one of the orcs that wasn't paying attention. The ball flew obliquely, lodging itself in the orc's hideous face. It ran away shrieking. Legolas struck two more, knocking both to the ground with a boom. The other members of the Fellowship handed off as many balls as they could scrounge up, the elf lobbing them off in rapid succession and effortlessly hitting the numerous Orcs endeavoring fruitlessly to balance themselves on their heads.
Seeing the Fellowship's great advantage, Elrond blew the whistle. Unfortunately for the Orcs, by then there were only four left.
"Ok," said Elrond. "Now you must be holding on to a partner when you throw." Everyone scooped up any ball they could find and grabbed the nearest person they could find's arm. Then, all and sundry drew back, prepared to throw.
"Just a minute!" said a voice. All eyes turned to the door. It was Gandalf.
"I find it quite revolting to think of what cheaters you Orcs are!" he said. "Knocking me off before the game even started! What impudence!"
"Gandalf," said Aragorn, bowled over. "What in Arda are you doing here? And why do you look like you've finally decided to switch to Clorox?"
"I got a clue from Saruman," replied the wizard. "I finally discovered his secret. But don't tell him. He's quite hush-hush about this." Aragorn nodded.
"Great, you can be my partner," he said. Gandalf hesitated.
"Just a moment," he said. Then, he gave a shrill whistle. Everyone's hands shot to their ears. Instantaneously, a gleaming white steed charged through the door. Gandalf mounted decrepitly, looking like some aged geezer escaped from a nursing home.
"Hack, hack hack!" he wheezed. "You see what smoking will do to you." He urged the horse forward and onto the court.
"See here," said Elrond. "No animals on the court. You'll have to walk." Gandalf turned and glowered at him.
"Make me," he said. Elrond pulled out his elvish longbow and fired a dart at Shadowfax. The horse fell forward with a splat.
"Get up, get up!" insisted Gandalf obstinately, thumping the stallion with his staff. "You're making me look foolish!" Shadowfax adamantly remained stock-still.
"No use beating a dead horse," counseled Legolas.
"Ha ha, very funny," grunted Gandalf. He finally pulled himself up, using his ornate staff, and supported himself over to Aragorn.
"Dodgeball!" bellowed Elrond, furtively nudging Shadowfax with his shoe. The horse jumped up and inconspicuously trotted away.
Major balls flew on either side and the losses were quite weighted, as the Orcs took casualty after casualty. Finally, one Uruk-hai left. Legolas squinted into the thing's face, trying to identify him. He gasped. This was no Uruk-hai! It was Sauron in disguise!
"So we meet again," the deep voice resonated.
"What?" asked Legolas. "I've never met you before."
"Oops," said Sauron, "wrong movie."
"However will we defeat him?" the Fellowship wondered communally aloud. They needn't have worried. Smeagol clambered onto the gym floor and ran for Sauron.
"Oi, Stinker!" said Sam. "What are you doing here?"
"Ahh!" cried Gollum. He picked up a spiked ball and threw it at Sam. The anorexic creature missed and instead it flew for Legolas.
"No!" the elf cried. "Must not catch it! Must not catch it!" He caught it. "Yow! Ah ha ha ha ha! My poor little hands!"
"You're outta there!" said Elrond to Smeagol, quite pleased, if truth be told. Gollum had eaten his prize-winning backyard petunias the year before, and as such, he was not in quite as good of terms with Elrond as he should have been. Smeagol sputtered curses and shook his fist at the ref. Then he dove for Sauron.
"Slap him on the behind," said Gimli. "He likes that!" Smeagol ignored the dwarf and ate Sauron's finger off instead.
"Augh! Not again!" said Sauron, vanishing in a wisp of mist. Smeagol might have been cheered for, but Sam was a senior member of the I Hate Smeagol Club, so he lobbed a light-weight barbed ball at Smeagol out of spite. It found its mark in the creatures butt.
"Yow!" hissed Smeagol, slinking off the court.
"Wow," said Sam. "I didn't know my own strength."
"The Fellowship of the Ring is the winn-" began Elrond, but stopped short when he heard the noise of a stomping, resembling a marching herd of Oliphants. Around the bend trudged rank upon rank of Uruk-hai, Trolls, Mumakil, Southrons, Haradrim, and Mordor Orcs. They were led by Smeagol, who had a bone to pick with a certain Samwise Gamgee.
"Uh oh," said Sam. He looked to his friends for support, and found that they were already dispelling madly in all directions.
"Wait!" said Gandalf, hobbling away. "Wait for me!" Sam stood riveted, unable to move. Soon the advancing armies, at least all of those who could fit through the door, halted.
"Uh," said Sam. "Hi."
Finis