Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.




Author's Note:

My excuse is some very light Deprivus Ideaus (a.k.a. Writer's Block), a lot of homework, and more than five other stories to continue and write. I apologize.




SING US A SONG MR.SARUMAN!!!

Saruman waited for the blow to fall. The Fellowship would catch him, and they would probably do something terrible to him, like chase him all over Middle-earth, make him wear something silly, then hang him upside-down in the nose of a broken statue in Amon Hen... wait... no! He had already been chased all over Middle-earth, worn something silly, and was currently hanging upside-down in the nose of a broken statue in Amon Hen!

So, Saruman hung upside-down in the left nostril, rocking himself back and forth in utter terror and horror as he watched the Fellowship approach him. Pippin was running toward him pointing his Halfling finger at the old wizard. His fellow hobbit friends waddled like geese, attempting to sprint right behind him. Aragorn and Legolas were depressed that the soprano of their singing triad (Aragorn was tenor, Legolas was alto, and Boromir was soprano) had been carelessly tossed over the Falls of Rauros by The United Army of Life-Insurance Salesmen. The Steward of Gondor was, in fact, now dangling by his right foot which had caught on a rock as he was falling.

"On top of spaghettiiiiii!" sang the male soprano because he was bored, "All covered with cheeeeese! There once was a meatbaaaaaaall, 'till somebody---ACHOO!"

As Boromir jerked from his sneeze, his foot unhooked from the rock and he fell to the earth, screaming the whole way.

But Aragorn and Legolas didn't know any of this. And they were sad. Gandalf (who was perfectly fine that Boromir had departed, just as he himself had been off a cliff... or a bridge once) suggested that the mortal and elf do a dance to cheer themselves up.

So ... Aragorn and Legolas were doing a sort of amateur Irish jig together, kicking their legs up high as they danced among the dead leaves of Amon Hen. Gimli trudged behind the breaking Fellowship, twisting his braided beard in attempt to ring out the water when he had fallen out of the boat. He was also grumbling because the flag with the number nine on it was as drenched as his beard and had wrapped itself around his stocky left leg, making the dwarf occasionally trip if the flag ever snagged onto a random protruding twig.

"There he is!" cried Pippin as he peeked up the stone nostril into the face of Saruman. He jumped up and down, squealing with happiness. Saruman was about to scream.... again, until Legolas stopped dancing and pointed above.

"Ai!" the elf cried, "Crebain! From Dundland!"

"Really?" asked Merry who, with Pippin, threw his head back so that he looked up at the sky.

Indeed, a black swarm of birds were beating their feathery wings as they squawked their evil calls and huddled together like a dark cloud. It was coming fast at them, so the Fellowship cowered and hid behind some rocks and statues.

Saruman was overjoyed that his allies had come to save him. He took the advantage of this by climbing out of the statue's nose and tumbling onto the ground. With a "graceful", ballerina-like leap, he sprung up on his toes. Then, he ran into the wide open area where the Crebain could see him.

"Over here! Over here!" the wizard hollered, flashing his red tye-dye robes about, "Come save me! I'm down here!"

But little did Saruman know that Legolas had forgotten his contact lenses at home! Dun! Dun! Dun! And it was not the Crebain that the prince saw, but other wicked birds... much more wicked birds.

"AUGH! CANNIBAL PIGEONS!"

The flock of gray birds came pouring down on him and began pecking at his head. As he ran around in circles screaming like a maniac, shielding his head from the blows, he wondered to himself about why cannibal pigeons were attacking him and not each other.

Finally, he dove back into the shelter of his nose--the statue's nose, that is. Hyperventilating, he began swinging back and forth in his hanging position, praying to the Valar that the pigeons wouldn't attack him.

Well, Orome and Ulmo were up at Manwe's, playing poker over a cool pack of Cadharas Dew.

"Royal flush!" cheered Ulmo as he slammed the battered game cards on the scrubbed wooden table. Orome sighed as he put his head down in shame. Aule stepped by and looked down at the game. He raised and eyebrow and shook his rocky head before following a drunken Tulkas pass a couch full of chattering She-Valar.

"So it was on sale for $2.99!" squealed Vaire, brandishing a pink powder brush at her fellow female deities.

"Great," muttered Vana, putting a hand to her forehead, "Another useless accessory."

"Personally," commented Yavanna as she took as sip of chamomile tea, "I do not believe in all of these... unnecessary particles that only illustrate lies upon the edge of our faces. 'Tis not facial purpose that we should seek, but---"

"Trees and flowers forever!" mocked Nessa.

"Silence, fool!"

"Calm down," ushered Varda, waving her glittery hands at the two bantering Valar, "After Morgoth, we needn't another war."

"Morgoth!" cried Este, beginning to get hysterical, "No! I cannot stand another round of twenty-four seven healing!... I'll break another nail!"

Vana placed a comforting arm around Este's shoulders in attempt to calm her down.... But it failed.


***


"OUCHIE!" screamed Saruman as a mighty something came pummeling down onto the statue he was hiding in. The statue collapsed, leaving the poor old man in a heap of crushed stone. When the flying debris had subsided, he sighed and relaxed.

Then came another row of beating and booming. Saruman's face met the stone and dirty leaves again. He was lucky to be alive after it had stopped. Staggering to his old feet, he cautiously looked around his territory to seek what had just attacked him.

A herd of very large, very powerful-looking, and very frantic looking people were running madly about Amon Hen, crying out: "No! Stop, Este! Calm down!"

Este only screamed and continued running. She jumped over another ivy-overtaken staute, dodged between a clump of autumn trees, splashed recklessly across Anduin, and made a U-turn back to Saruman. Though Este's nimble feet had leapt over his head, Lorien tramped, Orome stamped, Varda pranced, Manwe kicked, Nessa bounced, Aule crushed, Ulmo whipped, Vana stomped, Tulkas pounded, Mandos trod, Vaire nearly tripped, and Yavanna gracefully floated over him, leaving a trail of grass and mushrooms over the Istari's head.

Saruman popped his head up from his new mantle of earth and fearfully peered through the forest to see if anyone was coming again. He watched all thirteen gods and goddesses continue to shriek and run about in circles. Then, Este came his way again. She leapt over. Saruman clenched his eyes in worry, knowing what was destined to come. So... Lorien tramped, Orome stamped, Varda pranced, Manwe kicked, Nessa bounced, Aule crushed, Ulmo whipped, Vana stomped, Tulkas pounded, Mandos trod, Vaire nearly tripped, and Yavanna gracefully floated over him, leaving a trail of grass and mushrooms over the Istari's head.

Finally, Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck pounced on Saruman's head and plucked the mushrooms off of his beard while humming loudly:

"SING US A SONG, MR. SARUMAN!
SING US A SONG, TONIGHT!
THOUGH IT SOUNDS LIKE NAILS ON A CHALKBOARD!
WE DON'T CARE, OUR EARS DIED LAST NIGHT!
"





REVIEW OFFER:

Someone please send an e-mail to C-chan and tell her to write? Her address is chaos-chan@hawaii.rr.com . I will give three reviews; three good reviews to everyone who does this. And I will write a short story, and give fifteen good reviews to anyone who actually gets her to write a chapter or two. I am furiously desperate. I can't be the only one writing this, even if it's fun to do. You do not want to hear me rant.
If you're up for the offer, please mention in a review or e-mail. Don't worry. She's very quiet, and very shy. She doesn't have any teeth to bite. Thank you, and have a nice day!