Chapter Five: (Or should it be Chapter 2.5 or Chapter Four and a Bit because Chapter Four or Chapter 2.5 was so Short) In Which There is General Chaos
Eowyn screamed. A guard came running in, panting with breath.
"Is everything O.K, milady?" he asked. Eowyn did not reply, but looked at something lying on the stone floor. It was the clasp from a cloak of royalty, only used in Gondor by the King and…
"I don't believe it…" she whimpered, "Peregrin Took kidnapped my husband!"
SOMEWHERE IN HOBBITON
Faramir opened his eyes and vomited all over Sam. He looked around, ignoring Sam's swearing, and gulped.
He had travelled through time and space. It had been about three o' clock in the afternoon in Gondor, but the clock here showed ten past six. It was beginning to get dark, and the four of them were lying in the grass outside a pub, The Green Dragon. Faramir had heard that name before…
"Ah," Merry breathed a long sigh, "Back home in The Shire. Like it, Faramir?" Faramir gave a long moan and passed out.
There was a fire roaring in Bag End that night. Rosie Cotton was handing round bowls of hot soup and glasses of beer, and poor Faramir had no choice but to remain sat down. The hobbit hole was too small for him, or any human. He noticed something brown and heart-shaped on the table, and picked it up.
"Ooh, pretzels! My favourite!" he said, and ate it in one go. There was a bang like a gunshot, and Pippin stared at Faramir.
"You just ate the TARDIS!" he yelled angrily.
"TARDIS?"
"Time And Relative Dimensions In Snack. But now I've got a horrible feeling…"
"What?" Pippin sighed.
"I think that Frodo, Gandalf and the lady Galadriel have just switched dimensions."
And I'm sorry to say that he was right.
Chapter Six: In Which Frodo Finally Gets What's Coming to him
FROM FRODO'S DIARY
One moment we were in the Blessed Realms, the next we were lying face down in dirt.
I got up and looked around. A large tarmac road stretched into the distance, over hills and out of sight. Along it were thick white lines. This definitely wasn't the Blessed Realms.
Gandalf was stirring, and I helped him to his feet. He leant on his staff, and nearly toppled over. Galadriel didn't stir.
"Where are we?" I asked tentatively. Gandalf frowned and checked our surroundings, and gasped.
"If I am not mistaken," he replied slowly, "Then we have just fallen into the world of the Creator. The very being that made us."
"You mean…him?"
"Yes. Him. The Great Lord. The Mighty God Tolkien." I trembled. Few dared to speak the name of the Great Lord.
Galadriel rolled over, spattering mud onto her white robes.
"So…do you know where we are?" Gandalf shrugged.
"I haven't a clue, Frodo," he said, "But at a guess, I would say that we are in the land in which He was born. It is called England."
"Never have I heard of such place," said a voice, and we looked down to see Galadriel awakening. "Not even in myths. Your God is not known to Elves."
"Indeed not," I said, and stepped out onto the road. I bent down to look closer at the white lines.
The last I can remember hearing was a cry of horror from Gandalf, and a noise like a foghorn. Then there was searing pain, and I passed out…
Chapter Seven: In Which Galadriel is Very Clever and Frodo is Rushed to Hospital
Gandalf unceremoniously pulled Galadriel down with him into the long grass when the card hit Frodo.
"What do we do?" he asked, panic showing in his wrinkled face.
"Leave it to me!" she replied, and closed her eyes. "Changus us intra humini beings!"
Gandalf felt dizzy for a moment, and closed his eyes. The driver of the monster had not noticed them; he had not even spotted poor Frodo. He drove on without looking back.
Upon opening his eyes, Gandalf felt different. His clothes were no longer his own, he was a little chubbier, and his hair was shorter.
"We now look and talk like, human beings," explained Galadriel, who (to Gandalf's apparent alarm) was wearing a short pink top with a heart on the back, and blue trousers. Her ears were no longer pointed, and her hair was shorter as well.
Frodo (who was still unconscious) was wearing a white fleece with a hood, and blue trousers like Galadriel's.
"O.K," said Gandalf hurriedly, "We look and talk like humans, but what about Frodo?"
"I think I can get us a lift to a healing castle – or a hospital as they call it," she replied, "I just need to stick out my thumb…"
She stood by the side of the road, and did so. Gandalf pulled Frodo up, and noticed that he was bleeding badly.
Soon, another monster came down the road, but slower. It pulled up right beside Galadriel, and the door to it opened. A fat, bald man sat inside. He took up so much space that he found it hard to breathe.
"'Ey up, lass," he said with a strong accent, "What can I do for ye'?"
"My son Fred was hit by a car," she began as she pretended to cry. The man gave her a pitying look.
"Alright, then. Hop in the back." Galadriel looked nervously as Gandalf.
"I'm…I'm afraid my daughter and I don't have any money," he said, but the man raised his hand to stop him.
"It's alright, mate. No need to pay now." Gandalf nodded in thanks, and placed Frodo in an upright position on the back seat.
"I'm Gordon," he said as he loaded his staff – which had become a walking stick – into the boot of the car, "And this is my daughter Gwen." Galadriel smiled, and took a seat next to Frodo. When Gandalf had climbed in and put a seatbelt on, the driver stepped on the accelerator and sped off into the distance.
Chapter Eight: In Which Many Problems are Encountered by our Heroes, coming soon folks!
