Varagorn's Plan That Doesn't Go Very Well

"Entering phase one," whispered Varagorn to the others. Cue 'Mission Impossible' theme tune They were lying flat on a grassy bank that came just before the forest of Lost Dorian1 and were about to pull off Varagorn's plan. "Moppets, take your positions now."

The three Moppets that were awake dragged Perry into full view of the forest, or rather Gam and Mippin did so whilst Lodo walked after them, and started bawling as hard and as loud as they could. After a few moments, two Shelf sentinels emerged from the trees, where Legobrix had told Varagorn they would be, and started to try and comfort them.

"Beginning phase two. Legobrix… good luck." Varagorn put a hand on the Shelf's shoulder before letting go and watching him silently disappear into the forest. Legobrix had the most dangerous job of all – finding water and filling up the Fellowship's nine water bottles. The only drinkable water in Lost Dorian was in a fountain that stood right in the middle of Lady Gladtohelp and Lord Celery's courtyard, making it almost impossible for anyone to get any water without their say so. Celery had introduced this law to save money, even though he and his wife were the richest Shelves in Centre World (which, believe me, is saying something).

"You do realise that we may never see him again?" Pratomir whispered to Varagorn. He nodded slowly.

"Phase three," Varagorn reported. "Pratomir… Imlig… you know what to do. I'll cover you. Go, go, go!" Drawing his sword, Varagorn led them into the forest. Their mission was to find food.

"Come on, Imlig," whispered Pratomir, looking back at the Frawd, who was a good five metres behind him and Varagorn.

"I'm coming," grunted Imlig whilst puffing slowly. Varagorn dropped behind and the huge trees seemed to grow every second. He was finding it hard to keep his eyes on the two in front of him.

"Imlig, hurry up!"

"Don't you order me about!"

"Stop shouting!"

"I will not be ordered about by a vain twerp! Ooo, look at me… I'm Pratomir!" Imlig was hopping around, putting on a silly, high voice. "With my make up and my hair straighteners. Oh no, there are no plugs! Oh, I'm going to die!" Imlig did a theatrical swoon and fell over in the leaves.

"Oh, come on I'm not like that. Anyway, one does have to look his best," Pratomir moaned. As Imlig didn't stop, he started to cry.

"Oh look what I've done, I'll have to redo my mascara now!" Imlig carried on with his impression. Pratomir started to jump about on the spot, bawling like a five-year-old. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

"Oh, SHUT UP!" Imlig roared. This was exactly the wrong thing to do, and suddenly five or six Shelves ran towards them, their bows raised and arrows fitted.

"Now look what you've done!" growled Imlig.

"ME?" Pratomir exclaimed indignantly.

The Shelves pulled back their bowstrings threateningly and Pratomir flung himself down at their feet.

"NO! Don't kill me… I beg you… please! I'll tell you everything…"

"Send messengers to all of the sentries. Tell them to look out for a man in his thirties brandishing a sword. Then go and make posters for the city, they must say 'Look out for a man in his late thirties. He is brandishing a sword and must not be approached, he is highly dangerous. If seen, report the sighting to your nearest Nam-ecilop'. Understand?" said what seemed to be the most important Shelf in the group. Two of the others nodded and jogged quickly out of sight.

"You two will go to the guards who are looking after the Semi-things," the Shelf continued. "If they are holding an extremely fat one, a very bossy one, a very ugly one that keeps grabbing things and a small one who doesn't understand anything then you must tell them to bring them to Lord Celery. Then inform Lord Celery that there is a Smirkwood Shelf rooting around in his Special Garden."

Two more Shelves departed.

"Look what you've got us into!" accused Imlig. He and Pratomir were tied back to back in the same straight jackets Imlig had suffered at Elrondville.

"I never did anything!" whispered back Pratomir.

"Oh really?" whispered Imlig sarcastically. "Look, when we were back at Elrondville, I worked out how to escape from these things… you have to pull and push into the chest."

"I can't do that."

"I never said that we could do it I just said that is how you would escape if you could."

"Oy! Get you're groping fingers out of there!" yelled Pratomir at the chief Shelf who was examining his makeup bag…

"Hold it right there," said a voice to Varagorn's left. He wheeled around to see three Shelves pointing their razor sharp arrows at his head. One of them he recognised.

"Reindeer, my friend!" He smiled, walking towards the Shelf that had used to be his friend.

"Take one more step forwards and your brains will be spattered all over the ground, friend," said Reindeer coldly. "You do not have permission to be in this forest. I'm placing you under arrest."

Varagorn let them tie him up and went quietly…

About to put the last full water bottle into his pack, Legobrix froze. He'd thought he'd heard something. In a flash, he whipped out his bow and fitted an arrow, his blue eyes scanning the area.

"Drop it," a Shelf ordered.

Legobrix drew back the string, seeing that this Shelf was unarmed, but twelve more Shelves emerged from the bushes, this time armed. Already, Legobrix's mind began to formulate a plan. Taking the others by surprise, he dived to the right and grabbed one of them in front of him.

"Hold your fire!" ordered the Shelf in charge. For a brief second, Legobrix thought his plan had worked, but that was before twenty more Shelves came running towards him…

"Legobrix!" Varagorn yelled as the Shelves of Lost Dorian brought the Smirkwood Shelf in. He was unconscious, in a straight jacket, tied up and gagged – the maximum-security level – but most of the other Shelves that had brought him in looked worse off. They were covered in bruises and some were limping.

"We – we got him, my Lord," said the chief Shelf, swaying slightly and almost falling over. "It was a tough struggle but we did it. He was carrying these and filling them up in your Special Garden." He dropped the nine water bottles on the ground at Lord Celery's feet. "He was also armed with this bow and these two knives."

Legobrix slowly opened his eyes and attempted to sit up, letting out a muffled "Mmf!" when he saw Celery standing in front of him and the other members of the Fellowship. He desperately tried to free himself from the straight jacket but three Lost Dorian Shelves held him down. Legobrix head butted one in the face, causing him to yell in pain, and kicked another in the stomach, sending him flying into the third.

Celery reached for the panic button underneath his desk and pushed it.

Inspired by Legobrix's fight for freedom, the Moppets leapt down on the floor to where the chief Shelf had dropped Legobrix's knives and sliced through the rope tying their wrists and ankles. Mippin snatched one knife up from the floor and Perry, who was by this time awake, grabbed the other. Perry ran around, wildly waving the knife over his head. Mippin had enough sense to slash through the rope and straight jacket that bound Legobrix. The Shelf dived for his bow and shot an arrow, pinning Lord Celery to the wall by his long robes. Then he took his knife away from Perry and freed Imlig, who was nearest, then Varagorn, and finally Pratomir who was watching everyone fighting and flying across the room in terror.

"Come on, let's go!" Legobrix shouted, flinging open the door. Fifty Lost Dorian Shelves ran in, cornering the Fellowship.

"The game ends here," said the chief, rubbing his nose and staggering to his feet.

Legobrix stood at the front of the group of nine companions, still holding his bow.

"Just give yourself up," begged the chief, near to tears, "please?"

"You'll never take us alive!" yelled Legobrix, taking both knives and positioning himself ready for a fight.

"Speak for yourself," moaned Pratomir, counting their adversaries. "I give in! I give in! Please don't kill me! I don't know this lunatic! He doesn't speak for me!"

Legobrix angrily sheathed his knives. "Why do you always have to be so wimpy?"

The chief Shelf pulled out Legobrix's arrow from Lord Celery's robes, allowing him to get free.

"So you thought that you could just waltz in here and steal our water, did you?" Celery peered down at the Fellowship.

They nodded.

"Well shame on you! I hope you've learnt your lesson, especially you, Legobrix, who should know better, being a Shelf. Take them to the border of Lost Dorian and give them each a complimentary mint."

"That's it?" asked a disbelieving Varagorn, holding out his hand to receive a small mint-chocolate that had the letters LD embossed on it. He put it in his pocket, because he didn't really like mints.

Gladtohelp emerged from behind her husband, making a few of them jump. "Well, we don't believe in capital punishment here, but if we did, you would all get it. But, as we don't, you are free to go. Oh, and tell all of your friends about your wonderful visit to Lost Dorian, we're not getting enough business these days. The gift shop is downstairs to your left on your way out," she said. "Legobrix," she called as the Shelf made to leave.

He looked back.

"We'll be writing to mummy and daddy to tell them what you did."

He went red.

"Mummy and daddy?" repeated Pratomir incredulously, trying hard not to laugh. "Mummy and daddy?" he giggled. "Oh, come on… even I call my parents mum and dad."

"Shut it, fatso," Legobrix growled, going an even darker shade of red.

A Big Mistake For Pratomir

The Fellowship left, but made sure to visit the gift shop. Lodo bought the everlasting light of a star, Gam bought some seeds to plant and the others, apart from Pratomir who didn't want one and Legobrix who already had one, all settled for cloaks that could make you invisible to evil things. Lodo and Gam got jealous and bought a cloak each as well. Imlig then decided that he didn't want the cloak because of its pale green colour and bought two boats instead. Legobrix and Pratomir pitched in on a third. The others except Legobrix and Pratomir had left when Pratomir suddenly saw something that made his eyes light up.

"Look, over there in the big case." His stomach did a back flip as he stared at the glorious object. "Legobrix, it's a Rimmel lipstick, the most colourful thing invented! It even stays on your lips after four hours of hard work! Isn't it just amazing?" Pratomir went over to the store clerk. "How much for that marvel of dermatological engineering?" he asked, pointing to it.

"I'm afraid it's not for sale," said the clerk slimily, eying Pratomir with much distaste. He was wearing smart, black trousers and shoes, a grey waistcoat, a white shirt with a black bow tie and a gold chain dangled from his waistcoat pocket. His long, gold hair was tied back in a ponytail, controversial to most of the other Shelves Pratomir had seen. Then he gasped, taking out a pair of pince-nez from the inside pocket of his waistcoat and polishing them before putting them on. "WAIT! Is that an original oak and pine, hand crafted, steel plated Rondorian shield, per chance?"

Pratomir nodded. He looked at the Shelf as though he was mad. "Yeah, I've had this since, um, I stole it from my little brother, Funkomir."

"I'll give you the lipstick and a special goody bag for it!" bargained the Shelf quickly.

"Yeah, cool!" Pratomir started nodding energetically like a puppy wagging its tail. The Shelf took Pratomir's shield and then went over to the glass case, removed the lipstick and replaced it with his new prize possession.

"Here you go… Would you like it gift wrapped?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Bye then."

"Wait, my receipt!"

"Ah, yes." The Shelf handed over the small piece of paper and smiled broadly. "Bye, thank you for visiting the Lost Dorian gift shop, have a nice day."

Pratomir prepared to go and show the others his new purchase, but Legobrix put out an arm to stop him.

"Pratomir are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Now unhand me, you."

"I'm just not sure if you should have…"

"You want it for yourself!"

"No, I don't. Anyway I wouldn't need it."

"Look, Legobrix, there is nothing to worry about. After all, it's not like I'm going to be shot by an incredibly ugly Urk-Hor three times, die and be sent down a waterfall in a boat! Is it? Ha! Ha, ha…" Pratomir started guffawing like a lunatic, laughing so hard that he fell against Legobrix.

"Well, you never know do you," Legobrix said. "Ouch, can you stop leaning on me, you're incredibly heavy!"

Pratomir let go of Legobrix's shoulder and then fell onto the floor and started hitting it, still laughing hysterically.

"Come on, you two – we need to leave," Varagorn called over to them. "Hey, Legobrix, what's up with Pratomir?" He pointed at the person rolling around on the floor, clutching at his sides.

"I'll tell you later," Legobrix sighed.