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 and Merry and Pippin 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! And the made-up hobbit Mike-All Jorgen isn't actually in the book, duh.
Frodo and the others turned around quickly to see who dared to stop them on their great crusade to get laid. [HEY! That rhymes!] They saw an angry hobbit with the traditional hobbit clothes and red curly hair, dripping wet.
"You shot my glider down!" he yelled at Strider. "I'm suing!"
"No, please, don't sue me, I can't afford a lawyer," Strider begged.
"Well the state will hire one for you then," the hobbit replied coldly. "You know what? Forget the lawsuit. I'm gonna embarrass you. You must duel with me…and the loser gets pushed off a cliff attached to a glider by the ends of his toes with binder clips."
"Fair enough," Strider decided. "So let's duel!" He pulled out his gun again.
"Noo-oo! Not THAT kind of a duel."
"What kind, then?" the hobbits and Strider asked.
"I'll tell you. It's---"
Meanwhile, far far away, Biblo was ironing his shirts and accidentally ran the iron over his hand because he was too busy watching a bird outside his window, and screamed in pain so loud that it reached across the vast reaches of space and time and made the red-haired hobbit's statement inaudible to everyone but those right next to him, which doesn't include you.
"… … …You're bullshitting us," Merry said.
"No! I swear! Where he comes from, they do it all the time!" He pointed to Strider.
"Me? I think you're bullshitting too. I have no idea what that is and I've never heard of it before, and I'm certainly not gonna believe it."
"Well, you're dressed like the people who play it. I thought you'd know. I thought you were cool. Of course, except for the fact that you shot my glider down…so are you gonna do it?"
"Of COURSE I am! Bring it on!"
"OK!" The red-haired hobbit grinned and slapped his hands together. "Let me get changed." He hid behind a rock.
"We could run like mad now," Frodo suggested in a whisper. "We could get away."
"No," Strider said. "I can't live a truth. I must live a lie. Therefore, I must play the game this dude has lied to me about!"
"I'M DONE!" the hobbit yelled cheerfully, hopping out from behind the rock dressed in an old school basketball uniform. He had obviously toweled down, because he was no longer dripping lake water, and his curly hair had been combed out to make a big, red afro.
"Where'd you get that suit, the 99 cents rack?" Sam snickered.
"As a matter of fact, I got it from the salvation army for 1.00, if you don't mind. You were off by a whole cent!"
"Yeah, like that makes a lot of difference."
"Oh well. Anyway, you get changed into the jersey I left behind the rock. Quickly!"
While Strider was changing, the red-haired hobbit helped himself to a cookie. He grew almost to normal size as well. "Oh, by the way, I'm Mike-All Jorgen. What are you losers' names?"
"I'm Frodo Baggins."
"I'm Merry."
"I'm Pippin."
"I am Sam, Sam I am, and I like green eggs and ham!"
Mike-All looked at him funny. "… … …Right. Anyway, if any of you want my number, now's your last chance to ask." Nobody spoke up. He cleared his throat. "LAST CHANCE!" Still no takers. "Oh, come on!"
But Strider was done changing and was walking out from behind the rock…with no pants. He realized his mistake, put the pants on, and proceeded like he was going to before he realized his fatal mistake.
"Bring it on!"
