"And we're back!" Loslote said. She had joined the contestants, against Faramir's protests, in what was apparently some kind of cave. "We're in the entrance to the Final Challenge. But before we begin, Galadriel will present to each of you a gift."

"Goody!" Pippin said. "Like Christmas. Does Middle Earth have Christmas?"

"No."

"Then it's like the time Galadriel gave us gifts."

"Closer."

Galadriel walked forward gracefully. "To you, Eowyn, I give a strand of my hair."

"What for?"

"And to Butterbur," Galadriel said, "I give this Remembrall."

"Harry Potter again." Ellen shook her head in disapproval.

"Really? I forgot," Galadriel said. "Never mind. It doesn't work. But see how it doesn't bounce?"

"My hair is perfectly nice!" Eowyn held Galadriel's strand up with two fingers.

"To Legolas, this can of aerosol Orc-B-Gone."

"Will this harm the environment?"

"Not if you don't use it. Arwen, dear, Grandma made you cookies!"

"Oreos?"

"Alright, I had a busy week. Pippin, a vial of Eärendil's light."

Pippin looked at the tub of Blistex. "Busy week again?"

"It's basically the same as mine, anyway. We're both blonde," Eowyn pointed out.

"And to Glorfindel, a magic rope."

"This is an extension cord."

"Now what do you say to Galadriel?" Loslote prompted.

"Is there even electricity in here?"

"Anyway, my lips are chapped."

"Smells like pomegranate." Eowyn wrinkled her nose.

"That's my polite contestants. All right, choose one of the five entrances and go."

"There are six of us."

Loslote sighed. "Glorfindel and Arwen tied. The maze was already finished. And Galadriel was too busy baking to help."

Arwen raised her eyebrows at Galadriel, who shrugged.

"So one of you will have to take the same tunnel as someone else took."

The contestants looked at each other, and then all but Eowyn ran into a tunnel.

"Yes, Eowyn?" Loslote prompted.

"Well, I mean, the others got useful gifts. What am I supposed to do with this? I want something good. Give me a flashlight. Or a ukulele. An ukulele. A ukulele?"

"Are you finished?"

"An ukulele?"

"The others have been gone for four minutes."

"Okay, give me a guitar and I won't complain."

"Five minutes."

"What do you mean, five minutes?"

"Butterbur has already defeated his trial and has moved on to the last part of the maze."

Eowyn looked around. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Now Arwen is beating you. Again."

"Get out of my way!" Eowyn scrambled for the tunnel Glorfindel took, not that she knew who took which tunnel. "I will not be defeated by that Undomiel chick!"

"That," Loslote said, "remains to be seen."

~~~~~~

Meanwhile, as soon as Loslote dismissed him, Glorfindel had hurried into the closest tunnel. Hearing noises, he rounded a corner. What he saw next would forever remain in his memory as the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Is that a 96-inch plasma TV? Oh… Doritos… Mountain Dew…" Glorfindel sank into the easy chair and grabbed a handful of chips. He smiled — it was the Superbowl: the Eagles against the Trolls. Glorfindel had never seen football before, but somehow, he felt in his soul that he was meant for this, for this moment, to sit and watch and be one with the runners and the wind and the ball and the handsome man who threw the ball as if he were a dancer. Then Glorfindel frowned. He had pushed the button on the arm of the chair, but nothing happened. He was pretty sure the button meant the chair had a massage feature. He twisted around, grimacing in the discomfort of the movement. "Oh, yrch secretions! It's unplugged." He twisted back and allowed the gracefulness of the handsome one to appease him momentarily before he realized that comfort was within his reach. "My magic rope!" he said, and, blessing the wisdom of Galadriel, went to go plug the chair in.

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Butterbur, too, wandered down a different tunnel. Butterbur was not a competitive man, and anyway, he was not fond of the darkness. He had a bad feeling that something evil lurked somewhere in it.

Sure enough, a Balrog suddenly appeared before him.

"Ahhh!" Butterbur yelled, but keeping his wits, pulled the Remembrall out of his pocket. He could not remember what it was for but threw it down in desperation. It did not, in fact, bounce.

"Hey! A Remembrall!" the Balrog said, reaching down to pick it up.

Sensing an opportunity, Butterbur fled.

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Legolas, stuffing the can of Orc-B-Gone into his bag, walked down his tunnel. A hurricane force gale impeded his progress, but heroically Legolas pressed on. Finally, he discovered the source of the wind. It was an electric fan. Legolas frowned and twisted the dial to the off position. "What kind of a challenge was that?" he asked.

He passed the fan and immediately faced a mirrored wall.

Legolas stopped. He gazed, transfixed, eyes wide with shock and horror.

A single strand stuck up at an odd angle. "My hair!" Legolas whispered.

His hands flew up to his head and pawed, but he was powerless against the strand. Starting to whimper, he reached into his bag and rummaged for something, anything. "Ah," he gasped as he grasped a can, and quickly brought it up and started spraying. When his hair looked perfect again, he started to put the hair spray back. Then he noticed the label.

Orc-B-Gone.

"Well, at least it works on hair." Legolas shrugged, and re-examined his reflection. Then he gasped again. "It's pink!"

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Pippin skipped down the tunnel until he found himself in a large chamber. He stopped, but couldn't see anything in the gloom. He shrugged and pulled the Blistex out of his pocket to take care of his chapped lips. But as he opened the tub, light poured out of it, revealing his surroundings.

"It's so white," he said. "And it's buzzing… hey! This is Wal-Mart!"

Pippin heard a noise behind him and turned to look. A huge troll stood there, snarling at him. Pippin reached behind him to see what he could use and grabbed a red phone. He smiled. "Customer assistance! Yes, could you come take care off this troll here? … I'm in aisle thirteen. Near pet toys. Thank you."

Pippin hummed. Soon, a blue-clad employee came and shooed away the troll with a yellow smiley face sticker. "Thanks!" Pippin said. "Can I have one?"

"No prob," the employee said. "Can I getcha anything else?"

"Yeah, I was wondering where the exit is."

"Down there," the employee pointed to a lit exit sign. "See ya."

Pippin continued to the next phase of the maze. Just as he passed through the door, he snapped his fingers. "I should have asked for pipeweed."

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Arwen, munching the Oreos, came to a dead end. Blocking the tunnel was a large banner.

"Hey, that looks just like the one I made for Aragorn!" she said. Then she looked closer.

"It is the one I made for Aragorn! How did they get this?" Arwen tried to push the banner to the side, but it was firmly attached to the walls of the tunnel. She looked down at the Oreos and considered the banner. She tried throwing an Oreo at the banner, but it bounced off. Then she tried opening the cookie and scraping out the middle. It was delicious. "But now what am I to do with the dark part?"

It was this question, and not the barrier of the banner, that trapped Arwen for several minutes, long enough, in fact, to make up for Eowyn's demand for stringed instruments.

~~~~~~

Eowyn ran down the hall, heedless of any danger hidden in the dark tunnel, for she was a daughter of Eorlingas, and a brave and strapping one at that. Rounding a corner, she was confronted with the most hideous display she had ever chanced to witness (and she had witness much hideousness in her life) and she heard the most horrible, brain-rending racket (and she had heard many horrible brain-rending rackets): it was the Superbowl XIVIX. Volume 72.

Glorfindel, facing the set, lazily reached for a chip.

Eowyn rolled her eyes. "Oh for crying out loud," she said. She crossed the chamber, having already found the exit to the next phase on the far side of the room. But before she left the room, she paused, snapped her fingers, and went back.

Holding Galadriel's hair with two fingers, she carefully released it high in the air from where it fell, glittering like a falling star-imbued ribbon of light into Glorfindel's Mountain Dew where the tiny plop was indiscernible from the soda's burbling fizz.

As the door fell closed behind her, Eowyn heard just over the blaring announcer an incongruent sound.

"Ack!"