The date is 17 of November 2006, the time 3.04 p.m. Malaysia. Let's see how long I take to update…or, at least, to send this chapter to my beta, Cha Cha1.

Warning: Tolkein nerds beware; canon is, for the most part, ignored in this fic. This is because Sauron has won. Neener!

Disclaimer: You know, since I haven't actually claimed LoTR, technically, I can't disclaim it. XD But I don't own it anyway.

To this date of tweaking this chapter (29 November), I have gotten 99 reviews, which makes me insanely giddy, and I do not mind at all that I have Accounts tuition tomorrow when it should be the holidays. )

Here's a random quote: 'Wherever you go, there you are.'

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Voldemortina Avadavat Loretta O'Hara Ravensbane Medusagorgon Greenleaf was very happy. It was her one week anniversary today, and her Elfy was obviously planning something special. And before you ask, the 'Greenleaf' in her name didn't mean she was married to a certain hottie prince o' Mirkwood. It just meant that she was his sister! And how could this be a lie, what with her beautiful tresses of gold which reached past her pinched in waist, almost sweeping the floor? And let us not forget her lovely bewitching eyes of cerulean blue!

She twittered to herself as she imagined how her day would be. After her fairy-maids were done with her hair and makeup and show-offy dress, her first matter of business would be to glide around the forest (what was its name again? Loth-laurel? Ralph-Laurien? Something like that…) singing duets with the nightingales and other such sweetly sounding animals – though not as sweet as she. Then, she would eat berries and nuts brought to her by the woodland animals, caring not that this food could have come from anywhere – including the mouths of these animals. She thought rabies was only for doggies.

Voldemortina tapped a finger against her pouty lips as she thought of what she would do after that. Ah! Of course, she would have a refreshing dip at the waterfall. And since her Elfy would no doubt be drawn to her by her singing, he would see her there, conveniently without her clothes, and despite all facts that pointed to love making (among Elves especially) being a sacred and special act, they would 'get jiggy widdit'. (The Authoress shudders.)

And tonight, oh, tonight! Voldemortina clapped her hands to her bosom in a half-swoon. There was no doubt tonight was the night! Her honey-bunny had booked a table for two in the swankiest restaurant in the forest, in the highest treetop so that they could see the stars. And her best friend – Genevieve Sakuri Svetlana Leilani Brunhilde O'Malley Garcia Bjornson Al-Tahimi Smith – that her Elfy had been seen going to the forgery – I mean, the jewellery store (OMG, TIFFANY'S!) – and emerging with a box, small enough to hold a ring!

But of course she would say yes! And, she didn't mind saying so; it would be her Elfy who was getting the better end of the deal. After all, he was getting her! How could he do better?

Once more that annoying twitter of hers echoed about the clearing she was in, and if the animals in the area were actually in control of their functions, they might have considered migrating. Very soon.

Again, we have the fast-forward button to thank for the skipping of singing – coughsickcatcough – the eating of animal-spit-covered food, unwise swimming in lakes of unknown depth contaminated with Ebola and NC-17 rated scenes. I hear there's a fast moving new religion that worships this button. E-mail me for a free detailed pamphlet ("ShitpassmethedamnedremoteNOW!") and a full kit (including, but not limited to; one instruction book longer than the LoTR trilogy, a remote control with only one button – the Master Fast-forward button, for all occasions! – and several demo tapes.) while supplies last. Call now and you can get yours for a low $99,999.99, in 3.3333 easy instalments! If you feel unsatisfied with the product, you can return it within 30 days! (Please allow 31 days for shipping.)

Anyway, we now see Voldemortina Avadavat Loretta O'Hara Ravensbane Medusagorgon Greenleaf happily sitting with her Elfy at a candlelit table for two, in a swanky restaurant that shouldn't have existed in the first place. As soon as they had finished their dinner – Voldemortina had had a light salad with a side of caviar, thankyouverymuch (though the Authoress seriously doubts that she would have if she knew caviar was fish eggs. It just mattered to Voldemortina that rich people ate it, and thusly, so would she.) – Elfy had gone down on one knee. Just as planned – I mean, guessed.

And of course she had said yes – why shouldn't she? After all, it wasn't as if she couldn't get another Elf's attention if Elfy here got too boring in bed. But that is a topic the Authoress cannot stomach – who can, when there's a Sue in the equation? – so we'll redirect the narration.

And so, she was admiring her ring, posing in such a way that the moonlight accentuated her lovely features (which were, mind you, nowhere near Chloe's standard, XD) so Elfy could do nothing but stare at her in wonderment and love, still in his uncomfortable position on one knee.

It was probably a good thing, as such, because of the not-so-large projectile that went straight through Voldemortina's head. It probably hadn't met with much resistance. At any rate, Voldemortina now had a bloody hole in her head, and she keeled over, quite obviously dead.

Now 'Elfy' – he's not terribly important to the plot, so no need to know his real name (too long and complicated anyway) – was free of this Sue's clutches. He blinked once or twice, and got up from his position on the floor. He noticed Voldemortina's predicament, and murmured, "How strange. What a miserable fate this poor maiden has suffered. And I know not of any memory of her or why I am here…"

Unfortunately for him, a mysterious figure emerged from the shadows. We are now introduced to the monstrosity that was Genevieve Sakuri Svetlana Leilani Brunhilde O'Malley Garcia Bjornson Al-Tahimi Smith, the late Voldemortina's 'best friend, lyk forevah!' Riiiiight.

Anyway, Genevieve went over to console poor Elfy on the loss of his love, and suddenly their eyes met, and shivers of mutual realisation and passion shot through their bodies. (Or actually, to be more accurate, through Gen's body. Elfy's shiver was more the loss of control of mind.) And so pointless passion goes on, regardless of Voldemortina's corpse just a few feet away. Maybe it's erotic to them. Gag.

THANKFULLY, we have no time for this, and we leave behind cries of "Oh, Genevieve!" and "Oh, Elfy!" to investigate where the projectile that killed Voldemortina came from. But, before we leave Lothlorien – for that is where we are – I deign to point out that the projectile is small, round, white and covered in dimples.

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A loud voice emits profanity, well, loudly and vociferously, causing birds and other animals to scatter.

"YOU'RE A BLOODY CHEATER! IF YOU HADN'T MARRIED MY GRANDDAUGHTER –"

"What, grandpa? You'd make me eat my clubs? I'd like to see you out-swing me."

"YOU'RE ON!"

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Jl;ldhjlerkj Nklglkjw/lhihgw J; elt'kaqe Mnsgdlnqfk Wrdppk664i6 Bgthsrfjyz Potter (1) laughed gaily as she soared around the newly renovated tower of Orthanc. Strong hands gripped her hips tightly, as it was Looks-just-like-Leggy-but-isn't-really-Leggy's first time on a broom. And as Jl;ldhjlerkj was the only daughter of Harry and Ginny Potter (2), flying was obviously an instinct to her. After all, she had been skimming the grass on her toy broomstick before she even learned to walk!

As the offspring of Harry and Ginny Potter, they're looks had also been passed down to Jl;ldhjlerkj, albeit amplified. She had fiery red hair (with streaks of jet black) which reached past her waist in waves. Her green eyes sparkled with inner fire, drawing attention to her flawless forehead, her flawless nose, and her flawless face. She wore stylishly cut green robes (they accentuated her eyes) which hinted modestly at her bosom. The low neckline drew attention to the silver unicorn-shaped birthmark on her collarbone. (3)

"Tell me more about your past, Jl; it's so intriguing!" shouted Looks, who, if he were normal, would be screaming in abject terror if he happened to glance down, where (since the Isen had gone about its normal course) the ground was very solid.

"Well, when I went to Hogwarts and I was eleven, and the Sorting Hat said that I was such a balance between all four houses, that Daddy (he's the new Headmaster, didn't you know?) created a whole new House just for me! It's called 'Jl;ldhjlerkj'! Isn't that sweet? I'm the only one there, you know, so I got my own room and everything! (And since I was a slut at eleven, there were lots of plusses to that, Teehee)

"Plus, I was like, accepted as a Seeker for my team, but since there was no one else in my House, Daddy allowed me to pick players from all the other houses! So I had the most unbeatable team in the whole Hogwarts! And then this totally bitchy girl, what's her name? Volda? Anyway, she said she was Voldemort's daughter after raping some Veela, and so she's half Veela and half powerful Dark Lord, soooo unrealistic, and then she said she would be the next Dark Lord-ess, and of course I defeated her, because I'm like, powerful. And my fashion sense is soooo much better. And since I was so smart, I took my NEWTS before Christmas, and I got the top most highest score in the whole WORLD I didn't have to go to school anymore, but I stayed on and became the teacher for DADA –"

At this point, the Authoress has to take a few Panadol pills and have a lie down. There's only so much I can take, you know. So please, while I recuperate, enjoy a cool mug of ale and a wafer of Lembas, along with these complimentary videos of Sue killing. Ooh, my poor head…

(A few –insert suitable measure of time here – later…)

Well…I'm back.

Misplaced quotes aside, we again have to join Jl;ldhjlerkj (does anyone else think her name is odd? Anyone?) and Looks, but thankfully, we do not have to follow their inane conversation – although, one could argue that it was more of a monologue – for much longer. Why? Because we find Jl;ldhjlerkj being knocked off her broomstick (the AngelWing – faster than a Firebolt, OMG!1!) and down, down, down…splat. Impaled on a spire – there really were too many of those in Isengard. Koss would have enjoyed it there. Think of all the Sue-Kebabs™ (4), just like Jl;ldhjlerkj.

What about Looks-just-like-Leggy-but-isn't-really-Leggy, you cry? Somehow he managed to take control of the foul contraption and landed in Fangorn Forest, where he continued life as a hermit and screamed blue murder if he caught sight of a broom. But we don't need to know that.

What we do need to know is that the thing that hit Jl;ldhjlerkj (or as some might call her 'Jl;') is a twisted piece of metal, with small metal blob at one end.

Can you guess yet?

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"Chloe, my dear, tell your dear husband that he has cheated!"

"Darling, tell you beloved 'granddaddy' that he's a sore loser!"

Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie paused the DVD of 'The Bold and the Beautiful' (5) and took a sip of her martini before turning to an extremely angry Morgoth and a smug Sauron, both wearing tweeds, in the fashion of many ancient golfers of normal Earth. Morgoth seemed to be seething over the scorecard, which had been handled by the Nazgûl, who were their caddies. When you think about it, making the Nine and Three Quarters caddies is not a very wise move.

Speaking of Nazgûl, we see our favourite erstwhile kings of Men and lone Hobbit under the shade of the clubhouse. Fortunately, they are not in their horrible uniforms of tattered pink lace, due to the fact that they are in the 'great out-doors'. Unfortunately, now the Úlairi were clothed in robes of pure gold (6). Okay, so it isn't really real gold, but the colour was definitely similar, if not even more… dazzling. All I can say is that it is a good thing Sméagol had been fried to a crisp in Amon Amarth, if not the Wraiths would be tackled to the ground faster than you can say 'Precious!'

"So you're saying, the object of this game is to knock this little dimpled ball into the tiny hole by means of these… 'clubs'…using the least number of hits possible?" asked Taylor (that's Nazgûl No. 6) sceptically.

"Yes, that's it. So, since Lord Sauron finished the course with 1659 strokes, and Lord Morgoth with 353434 strokes(7), Lord Sauron won," explained No. 7 with the air of someone who has said the same thing ninety-nine times, and was anticipating a hundredth.

"That still doesn't mean that he can take out his anger on me," said a distraught Pavlov disconsolately. Said Wraith had been bonked on the head repeatedly by an irate putter-wielding Morgoth after telling the ex-Valar that he had been beaten by Sauron by approximately 351775 strokes. That could be seen as the drawback of being the only Nazgûl who could count (discounting Frodo, who was too short to see where the ball had gone)

"Shire…Baggins," came the sympathetic reply.

We return again to Chloe, and see her looking at the scorecard Morgoth had brandished at her, again claiming that his good-for-nothing grandson-in-law had cheated. Whether this accusation is accurate or not, we shall never know, and for two reasons; we know not the extent of the rivalry between the two Dark Lords and; Chloe has no idea how to tot up scores for golf, much less how to figure out whether someone has been cheating. The Authoress has no idea either, actually. But that is beside the point.

My point? Being a MarySue, or indeed even a Valar!Sue is not enough to make you understand the game of golf. This is why Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie, after staring at the scorecard for a few moments, mouthing numbers and counting on her fingers, said this: "Shouldn't Ronnie-poo have gotten 4 and Grand-daddy 4 as well?"

It was a diplomatic idea, sure, but it was waaaaay off. But even rivalry is put aside when faced by the beauty that is the SuperSue, because Sauron and Morgoth nodded and shook hands, telling each other that 'that was a pretty good game' and 'you ain't so bad, youngster' and so on. Of course, one would argue that both Dark Lords would rather agree or have pink glitter butterflies fly into their throats and choke them. Bad enough they didn't notice the pink flowers sprouting from their tweed berets, and that brought their EVIL-Dark-Lord status down many, many notches. Right now, they were somewhere between Bob the Balrog ("Can he whip it!") and McDonalds. (8)

Anyway, Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie, satisfied that she had ended the argument, turned back to her TV – which shouldn't have existed – to find out whether her theory of Rick cheating on his wife Monica with her brother, Kingsley, who actually wasn't her brother (he was adopted) was right. (9)

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It is odd that we have gone through more than half a chapter without seeing a completely sane being of Middle-Earth. I am sure you are all crying in thanks that we finally see Koss. Disgusted by the fact that Morgoth had no effect on the Sue, the Keeper of Sauron's Sanity decided to return to the Sod Stalking Range™. No, it was not to collect more snakes – Chloe would only use it to further her personal snakeskin product line; the 'present' from the last chapter was made into a fashionable purse and a pair of skin tight pants, although the snake wasn't that long in the first place.

Reptilian merchandise aside, we see Koss searching the darker areas of the Range, searching for what, we do not know. Finally, a smirk adorns her face and she pulls out a dagger from her boot. Kneeling in front of a plant with small yellow flowers, she quickly and efficiently started stripping the leaves of the plant, storing them in a small pouch she had procured earlier. This plant looks particularly harmless, especially among twisted oaks thousands of years old, and shrubs that rustled, seemingly of their own volition.

After the pouch was sufficiently full, Koss once again straightened and proceeded back to her quarters, where a small pot of…liquid bubbled ominously. Chucking another log into the fire, Koss carefully added twelve whole leaves, and chopped the remaining into thin strips. Once the whole leaves had dissolved, she added the strips, murmuring a few choice words in Elvish. She added seventeen drops of blood from the fourth finger of her left hand, and was unsurprised that the potion, as we will now call it, turned a dark shade of white (if that's even possible).

Koss glanced at the open book in front of her, which she had taken from the library: "Cooking for EVIL".

Let the mixture steep for the time it takes you to run and get a personal possession of the victim's (preferably a necklace). Make sure to wear protective clothing when adding this possession, as the potion will spatter slightly.

Take the two reptile eggs and add them, shell and all. For taste, add a quart of dirty Orc laundry water. Circle the pot/cauldron/teacup three times, taking care not to go slower than a-non-raging Oliphaunt, while chanting the chant you can find on page 483 paragraph six of the book "Chants for EVIL", also by the same author, which has to be purchased separately for 59.99 Eyes, plus taxes (that's also equivalent to five jewelled encrusted weapons, or a threat from the Dark Lord Sauron, though it's doubtful you'll have the latter) available from the A T & T (A Troll and Another Troll) (10)

After the third time circling, take care not to make any sudden movements or else an alien entity will form in the pot/cauldron/teacup/saucer and gouge your eyes out. Or not. Best be safe, eh?

Add the powdered toenail of a Warg killed by a Rohan blade, followed by a willingly given hair of a wild Maeras. Bang in the four cups of sugar (or four thimblefuls, depending on your medium of mixing) and take a nap for exactly one and three-eights of an hour. Your potion is now complete. Mix it with any drink and serve to your victim, chilled.

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"My lady…" Koss called out, wary about where the wife of her employer was. Possibly indulging in activities involving the members of the heart-HAREM-heart. Not that Koss needed to know. At all. The light from the torch on the wall showed a clear line of marble floors covered by expensive furs, and maybe three or four items of clothing. The SuperSue may have been 'beautiful' and married to the owner of Arda, but she was nothing if not a slob.

"Yes, Lana? Is there something I can do for you?" Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie asked, looking up from a piece of parchment she was writing on. A stray butterfly burst into flame, and Koss' boot ended its miserable life. Before waiting for a reply – why should she help anyone, anyway? – Chloe brandished the piece of paper at her. "What do you think of this?"

Koss gave the writing a cursory glance, but found herself actually reading it to see the extent of the horribleness. The somehow procured pink ink and heart-dotted 'I's only made it more agonizing. I will let you have a brief taste, but for the faint-hearted among you, it is my duty as Authoress to warn you; proceed at your own risk. I am not responsible for any horrendous gagging, urges to gouge your eyes out or suicide attempts (successful or no)

Ice queen they called me

But my heart has melted

For I have met the One

My true Love

My…Leggy-chan…

With his hair of pure gold

And eyes like sapphires

And a pe –

Koss' eyes widened. She did not need to know about that. What on Arda was a pencil case, anyway? (11) "It's uh…really radical, my lady," she said uncertainly. Compliments always got a Sue's defence down. Not that they had that much of a defence in the first place.

"REALLY!? I mean – of course it is! What's that, Lana-kins?" Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie asked, pointing to the goblet held in the Elf's hand. I would say 'other' Elf, but we must not forget that Chloe is half Elf, half Maia and all Sue.

"It's a slimming potion, as well as a brain stimulant, and…" Koss curled her lip in disgust. For the good – or bad, really, since Sauron had taken over – of Middle-Earth… "And…an aphrodisiac."

"Wow! Not that I need such a thing, but…why not give it a try? I'm sure it's a wonderful gift, Lana! This isn't some kind of trick to get out of your grounding, is it?" The SuperSue waggled her non-existent eyebrows suggestively.

"Eh…of course not, my Lady. It is my fault, and I am paying the consequences of my actions."

"Wonderful! Now, if you'd just pass me that glass…"

"No!" Koss snatched it away from the talons of the Valar!Sue. "If you wear the Ring of Power, then you will die if you drink this potion! You have to remove it, or else you'll…die," Koss finished lamely, inwardly laughing her head off. No doubt Chloe would take the bait…

"But Koss, it's a wedding ring! From my Ronnie-poo!"

Koss clapped a hand to her mouth as she stifled what seemed to be a mix between a snigger and a wince. "The Ring doesn't match your clothes, either! It's too…gold! So last millennia! And, besides! It's not shiny anymore! …'Ronnie-poo', as well as…'Leggy-chan' will think that is totally un-sexy."

That did the trick. The Ring was practically shoved into Koss' waiting hands. In exchange, Koss gave Chloe the goblet, and only needed to hear the greedy 'glug's to know the second phase of her plan was complete.

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The potion Koss had given Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie had a secondary function as a sleep inducer. This is why, after exactly thirty minutes (as the Nazgûl fly), Koss crept back into the SuperSue's sleeping quarters and found Chloe sound asleep. Here, sound asleep means asleep while emitting snoring sounds that would scare away the Balrog of Moria, poor fellow.

Anyway, the Keeper of Sauron's Sanity crept towards the huge, pink bedspread-ed bed and found the Valar!Sue hugging an inflatable doll that looked disturbingly like a life-size version of one Legolas Thranduillion, Prince of Mirkwood, Elf-boy, Winner-of-drinking-contests-with-dwarves, Koss' Pet, Emissary of the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood, Killer-of-Mûmakil, Torturer of Sues (ToS), Delight of the Fangirls, Traitor Extraordinaire, et al.

And so Koss unsheathed the knife in her boot – a gift from the Haradhrim – and she grinned in anticipation at the screams she would no doubt hear. Or, actually, not. But there would be a lot of laughing on her part.

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Koss was awakened, many hours later, when Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie burst into her room in alarm. But not even the pink butterflies put a dampener on Koss' mood, for when she caught sight of Chloe in all her glory, she could not hold back her laughter. It had been a long time since she found anything to laugh at.

Gone were the 'blood red streaked midnight black tresses' that used to reach down to Chloe's ankles. The Sue's hair had been sheared to resemble the cru cut all soldiers of normal Earth are familiar with. Indeed, one would think that without the weight the hair provided, Ravara's head would be floating in the sky, seeing as it was filled with air anyway.

The fact that the potion had a side effect of making the victim's hair turn yellow was an added bonus, no?

But what really took the cake was the way Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie was holding her own throat and gaping like a goldfish (or whatever its Middle Earth equivalent was) Now you know the purpose of the potion. Koss tried her best to hide her smile, while Chloe panicked. Said voice removing potion would last a full month. At least there would be no verbal interruptions while Koss found a way to suitably get rid of the damned Sue.

A piece of scented parchment was shoved in her face. On it was scrawled (with pink lipstick, I might add) the following: Help me get my voice back and you won't be grounded anymore! I'll even give you a brand new phone! What was a phone?

But that wasn't the point. Why did Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie not care about her missing hair? Koss looked up and gaped, and saw as said locks of midnight ebony seemed to sprout from the Sue's head, much like grass on radioactive fertilizer. Koss just covered her head with her pillow in disgust.

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Much, much later, Koss found herself in the Throne Room, and was amazed by the amount of people in the hall. They were all kneeling, save a few dressed completely in long silver robes that brushed the floor. Said silver robed people reminded her of priests, which meant that the people were worshipping something, and that something was…

No guesses there. As if the pink butterfly motif on the back of the priests' robes weren't obvious. Trust the Sue to turn being mute into some kind of reason proving her divinity. The Warden of Sauron's Sanity had to quell her bile as she watched each 'disciple' shuffle forwards on hands and knees to kiss the pointy shoes of one Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie.

The door burst open suddenly. Emerging from the wreckage was one 'Ronnie-poo' and one 'Leggy-chan', and the Authoress has to cover her ears at the squeal this produces (the latter being the cause, although Sauron does have a few fans too) It was a relief to the eyes that Legolas was not wearing his heart-HAREM-heart uniform, although the Superman/Batman/The Flash-esque outfit was no better. Sauron still had his totally trendy, 'artistically' ripped, gaudy cape over his usual armour.

Legolas clasped his hands together and cried, "My Darling Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie, I do not care if I will not hear your melodious voice ever again, I still will serve you with utmost faithfulness!" One does not even need a double-digit IQ level to know what that meant.

The glare Sauron shot him would have reduced the pointy-ear to embers, if he had been attentive. The Dark Lord gave a huff, then bared his black teeth in what was most likely meant to be a charming smile, had it been attempted by someone with a better dental record. "And I would rather expire than announce that I no longer love you!"

Koss stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to hurl, but the choking sounds she made were drowned out by the cheers that met Ravarastwinkletoecutiepie's decision to kiss Legolas and Sauron – both of which are extremely disturbing images. The butterflies that flittered around were catalysts to her disgust, and so Koss strode away from the place, disappearing behind a tapestry.

'None of this would have happened if the Dark Lord had just listened to me and fired that stupid Srakh. I can't believe the Ring didn't help –' her thoughts were broken as she remembered something. A slow smirk twisted her mouth, one of the more familiar facial expressions she had.

She had the Ring.

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Methinks I'll leave it at that. We'll have Koss use the Ring in the next chapter, and the chapter after that will be my surprise chapter! XD Guess what's in it?

(1) For this name, I just had to bang my hands on the keyboard, which is what most Suethors do anyway, at the drivel they spew. The Authoress is feeling particularly malicious today.

(2) People who actually know me know that I'm more of a slash fan…but one can't argue with the canon. Unless J.K. does something horrible in the seventh book, which I'm guessing she will. BUT this is LoTR, so we shall not discuss that!

(3) I was going to put lightning bolt shaped, but then I remembered it was a Sue. Unicorns are, like, t3h cyute!

(4) Many thanks to Cha Cha1 for that. My beta, in case you forgot.

(5) I don't own this show, and am quite thankful that I don't. No disrespect meant, of course. It's just that I don't like soap-operas, and all I've said here about this show further proves my ignorance. So don't take it seriously. (Shyah, like you do already!)

(6) This was based on a conversation I had with someone of Gold Nazgûl are cool, no?

(7) Yes, I know, it's impossible to get those kinds of scores in golf. But, in Middle-Earth, anything is possible, no? And, 'sides, it's funny. XD

(8) You know, Bob the Builder, Bob the Balrog? Haha? As for McDonald's…c'mon. If you control that, you practically control the world.

(9) See footnote 5

(10) Taken from 'Sauron's Throne' by biggstrek.

(11) What were you thinking, eh?

Ahhh. Finally finished. That little recipe was just something I made up while the power was out. Thank the Valar for laptops, eh? Hopefully I can go online now and send this to my loverly beta. REVIEW!

alien.