Act IV
"Ick, see, I told you this place smelled like old people farts!" Gandalf pinched his nose shut.
"I don't think it's farts - I think it's just all the dead bodies in here." Boromir mentioned nonchalantly as the tires of the SUV crunched over the skeletons of Gimli's kin as the dwarf wailed in the backseat.
"Good lord, it stinks! Set the AC to circulate."
Boromir looked confused. "Huh? What are you talking about, Gandalf? The AC's already on full blast."
"No, push that button, dummy. It'll re-circulate the air that's already inside instead of bringing in more stinky air from outside."
"Oh. Hey, that's pretty neat! You know, I've been driving for years and honestly never knew that button existed."
"Well now you do." Gandalf pulled worriedly at his beard. "I only hope Saruman doesn't figure it out…"
"Strider!" Pippin suddenly popped his head up from the pile of clutter in the trunk.
"Good lord, Pippin! You scared us half to death! What do you want?"
"This is for Strider. I found it in one of the grocery bags." He handed an envelope to Aragorn, who tore into it, expecting a love letter from Arwen. What he found instead was the delicate penmanship of her father.
Aragorn,
I thought you would be content with corrupting my daughter, but apparently you felt the need to ruin my patio as well. I am enclosing the bill for replacement flagstone.
Regards,
Lord Elrond
P.S. Go to hell.