Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Cookie! Part 3
Um…hi. I don't own Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien does) or any of the LOTR characters, although I DID ask my parents for Sam for Christmas. No offense to people who are on diets, are short, and can't jump…it wouldn't hurt for me to lose a few pounds myself, and I suck at basketball too. But it's all for laughs so don't be mad. And also, to die-hard LOTR fans: the character names are dropping out of my memory like dead flies! Don't be mad if I have to say "the elf," "the dude," or even "the short dude" every once in a while!
"So where the heck are we now?" Sam asked.
"What does it look like, genius? We're in a cornfield."
All four hobbits looked around. They'd been traveling all night, and the sun rose suddenly and without warning, killing that flower that only blooms at midnight instantly. And they saw it was true, they were in a cornfield! Merry breathed in deeply.
"Ah…fresh air, green grass, pretty flowers… … … I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!!"
"AHHH!"
All four hobbits screamed in terror and started running for their lives. But they didn't get that far, because they bumped into somebody.
"Where are you four going in such a rush?"
They looked up to see Strider. He towered way above them, even though they were now normal size, thanks to the radioactive cookies.
"Hey! You're not supposed to come in until later in the book!"
"Well, you are all so PITIFUL that I knew I had to interfere before you really embarrass yourselves."
The hobbits stood up and faced the ranger. He wasn't wearing everyone's favorite ranger outfit, though. Instead of the old fashioned clothes, Strider was wearing very baggy pants, a huge T-shirt, a sports sweatband on his forehead, and lots and lots of chains, most of them fake. Also, he had combed out his hair a lot. But it wasn't hanging down straight as was the style among rangers today—it had puffed up to look more like an afro. A very huge, unsightly afro. He was carrying something blue and mysterious…with two black straps…something that anyone from the normal world would call a backpack.
"What happened to your clothes? It looks like your wardrobe got hit by a tornado!"
"Shutup!" Strider barked. "It's the latest in trends. I thought it looked stupid, but when all the other rangers started wearing it I was lonely!!"
Frodo snickered. Merry bit his tongue and Pippin his cheek. Sam's cheeks were filling up with air. Then the moment of self-control was over. They all burst out into insane, hysterical laughter.
"I'm going to kill you all with this uzi!" Strider declared, pulling a gun out of his belt.
"Whoa, like that's gonna do anything to me," Frodo(who did not know about guns) said sarcastically. "If you had a sword, for instance, that might be different, but that's not a sword and you can't hurt us!"
Strider took aim at a friendly hobbit flying overhead in a glider.
"Heh heh! Hiya guys! I—whoa!"
He shot the wing of the glider, and with a loud noise, the glider whirled right through the air and crashed in a lake. The hobbit was parachuting to the ground, having jumped out before it crashed. However, the wind picked up and blew the hobbit into the lake.
"You were saying?" Strider asked. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were having second thoughts.
"Uh…sorry! We're so sorry! Please accept a cookie as a token of our apologies!"
"Cookies, eh?" He thought about that for a moment. "How'd you know I was on a diet?"
"Wait, you're on a diet too?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, and that's something you might wanna think about too."
"I AM on a diet!!"
"Right, right. Stupid Martha Stewart is a big hit at Bilbo's party, so she decides to launch a Middle-Earthwide crusade to deliver cake to the underprivileged hobbits, rangers, elves…and everyone else…Well, what are you gonna do. I'll take it!"
Frodo unwrapped the package and gave him a cookie. Although the glowing goodie made him suspicious, he wolfed it down. And he grew a third eye in the middle of his forehead.
"What the hell is this! Okay, what did you do to these cookies?"
"I didn't do anything to them," Frodo assured him. "But when I got 'em they were already spiked with radiation, which made us mutate and grow taller! And you got a third eye!"
"I DON'T WANT A THIRD EYE!" he screamed, grabbing Frodo by the shirt. "Why you little--!" He got ready to punch him in the face.
"Um…wait! Do you want to get laid??" Strider paused for a moment.
"By you? No, not particularly." He was about to punch him when Frodo yelled out again.
"No, not me! By a bunch of hot ladies for decades to come!"
Strider blinked and put him down. "I'm listening…"
"The Shadowrider gave me these cookies and told me to deliver them to Sarumon, which automatically makes me a bad guy, and according to the laws of the universe, the good guys never get laid. It's the bad guys who do! So we're going to deliver the cookies and get laid!"
Strider didn't have to think very long to make up his mind. "Okay, why not. I haven't been laid in years."
"Great! Now let's go!"
"Wait just a second!" an indignant voice called from behind them.
