The Fellowship of the Smut gathered what supplies they needed, and secured Tolkien's limbs with scotch tape and a little bit of Yankee ingenuity (the latter was frowned upon by the scone-eating wanna-be Dark Lord, but n one cared what he thought).
They walked for many miles, traveling from the pastoral Eastern Long Island town of Imp's birth to the mean streets of NYC. As they crossed through the hard terrain of NYC, it began to snow. It quickly piled up, and although Imp could walk over snow the others could not. They were soon faced with a difficult decision.
"Why pass through The City when you can pass under it!" declared Ian. "We are taking the long way, Buddah."
"I would only pass through the subway if it was our only hope," Buddah said. "I know what the New Yorkers awoke when they delved to deeply."
"Let Tolkien decide!" Imp declared.
All eyes turned to Tolkien, and he looked around nervously, overwhelmed by the responsibility. "We shall go through the subway," he finally said, softly.
Buddah heaved a sigh. "Tolkien has chosen. We shall travel through the Subways of New York."
Buddah lead them to the subway entrance and down the stairs. They can to the gate, and could go no further, for the bar would not budge and the Fellowship didn't want to jump it. "Ah! It reads, 'Place token, and walk through.'" Buddah exclaimed, scrolling through the many-language notice. "I must change my paper currency into tokens!"
Buddah approached the machine confidently and placed the bill into the machine. It was promptly rejected, and spit back out. Buddah tried to straighten it out, and place it in again. This went on for a half hour.
Finally, Tolkien shuffled over to see if he could help. After a few moments, he spoke.
"I think the bill has to go in face up," he said to Buddah, who was sitting dejectedly on the floor.
She immediately flipped the bill over, placed it in, and the machine spat out four tokens.
"It's funny how an 'all powerful' goddess is dumber than a cadaver that's about five years from being fertilizer!" Imp said, being, as usual, a pain in the ass.
"A goddess I may be, but a professor of Angelo-Saxon at Oxford I am not!" Buddah indignantly replied.
"Those damn devious Saxons and their change machines!" Imp taunted.
They used the tokens, and walked down into the deep dark of the subway. They came upon a vast chamber lit by many florescent lights.
"Behold!" Ian cried. "The great Penn Station!"
"NOOOO!!" Buddah suddenly yelled in great anguish. She ran down the crowded station and fell to her knees, sobbing loudly. "WHY?! WHY!?!?"
The rest of the fellowship ran to her side.
"Starbucks for sale," Ian read off the door of the dark and abandoned café.
Though, they didn't have time to mourn, for it was then that they were attacked by hoards of gang members, who had attacked them for some sort of gang initiation.
Imp leaped and slashed with her pen while Buddah zapped them with her godly powers and kicked them with her powerful legs from years of ballet. Ian, being used to just intimidating people from afar, eventually began bashing gang members over the head with his pilantir—all the while, the voices of his English friends could be heard, mocking him about a past incident with a goat. Tolkien mostly hid and shouted the name "Guliani" which seemed to repel the hoards.
Suddenly, they heard a great booming in the distance, and all the gang members fled in terror. The fellowship looked around in great fear, for the orchestra had swelled, indicating that the shit was going to be hitting the fan.
Buddah realized what the great danger was. "This enemy is beyond you all," she said as she stared down the platform. "Weapons will not help you. RUN!"
Imp managed to yell "stop stealing Gandalf's lines!" as the fellowship turned and fled.
Then, it came.
On platform 1b, Vengefull Buddah turned and faced a demon.
It stood 5'10, and was clad in a pink polyester bowling jacket and lime green spandex.
It was a born-again Christian.
"Have you accepted Jesus as your number one buddy?" the thing asked in ahigh-pitched voice.
Buddah brandished her red duck umbrella. "I am the guardian of bitter wit and sarcasm! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
The born-again Christian lashed out its bible at Buddah, but her raised umbrella blocked the blow. It then sneered as it transformed into the true hypocritical bastard it was. It stepped forward.
"YOU…SHALL NOT…PASS!!!" Buddah yelled as she pushed the button on her umbrella. The umbrella opened onto the born-again Christian, making it lose its balance and fall onto the tracks.
Buddah turned around wearily, but born-again Christian grabbed her ankle and pulled her down with an unholy strength. "Fly, you dumb-asses," Buddah whispered. And with that, her body disappeared, falling onto the tracks.
"BUDDAH!!!!" Imp screamed as she leapt forward, trying to save Buddah. Tolkien tried to grab her, to hold her back, but that only realized in Imp ripping his arms off. Therefore, Ian had to grab her and drag her back, leading them back to the surface.
When they had escaped the subways, Imp collapsed to the ground, her grief too much. "Oh Buddah!" she wailed, rocking back and forth in physical pain from her grief. "If you were only here now, I would never reprimand you for plagiarizing Gandalf ever again!"
"We must move on," Ian solemnly said.
"Give her a moment to grieve!" Tolkien snapped as he tried to place his arms back on.
"By nightfall these streets will swarming with bums," Ian explained. "We must travel onward to JFK, and catch a flight to Florida."
"Why Florida?" Tolkien asked.
"You shall see," Ian said vaguely.
And with that, they tried to get a taxi.
~Authors' Note: We are not homophobic, contrary to popular belief. We support GLAAD. We just don't like this sudden influx of slash. Sam and Frodo were NOT gay, merely affectionate. Flame us if you dare, though realize that will make you a hypocritical bastard, for if all these people are allowed to write slash, then by george, we are allowed to write anti-slash. We have just as much freedom as anyone else does.
