For many moments, no soul stirred or dared to speak. Everyone stared anxiously at the seemingly powerless handkerchief before them, which had mysterious stains all over. Mrehe.
"So, uh, where did you find this?" It was Christian who dared to break the silence.
"Good question," replied Tara, smugly. "There is a very old secret in this forest," she began with much suspense.
"What is it?" asked Qui-Gon, leaning forward in anxiousness with the rest of the Family.
"Well," she replied, "when I figure that out, I'll let you know."
There was a great 'Aww, you suck!' chorus from the crowd, Merry and Pippin angrily waving their "Boycott Bad Acting!" banners. Tara threw them a funny look, which only made them twice as rowdy.
"We want answers!"
"Yeah! What's going on!"
"Death to Meg Ryan!"
"Alright!" yelled Phoebe defensively, the noise dying down in waves. "Tara and Obi-Wan found the magic Talking Handkerchief deep in the forest last night, and it told us what we had to do! The secret is that no one knows how this gross piece of cloth became talkative, or magical, and it's not going to tell us anything. But know one thing! We were meant to find this forest. It is our true home."
Everyone was quiet and thoughtful; someone held a lighter up in the air.
"Here's how we do it," continued Tara. "There are three houses as you know, and one Team per house."
"Team?" inquired Hermione doubtfully.
"Yes, Afro-head, TEAM," grumbled Phoebe. "Each house belongs to its respective TEAM, which means that all the people in that one house work together for different tasks, games, or whatever else comes up. Even though we will always be one big family, we will sometimes have to sacrifice and sweat and bleed and curse violently from time to time."
"Okay," she continued, "the three teams go as follows: House One, your team is 'The Prancing Ponies.'"
There was a murmer and exchange of curious glances from all members of Lord of the Rings.
"House Two, you are 'The Sparkling Dogs.' (Again, a murmer.) And House Three, you are the "Magic Markers."'
There was a few giggles at this, and the usual curious murmer (which is actually a pretty funny word if you keep saying it)... and then a weird squirt noise.
"Aw blasted Pip," grumbled Ron, fanning the area before his nose, "the loo is just over there!" Pippin shrugged dismissively, his face colored.
"Anyway," said Tara, ignoring them. "The Three House leaders are the three people who are from this world--that's myself, Phoebe, and Ewan." Ewan gave a light tremor, every hair on his body standing on end. Tara glanced the Ring on his finger, remembering what Phoebe told her the day before. 'He looks like he's on crack!' she thought to herself. 'But we'll deal with that soon enough.'
"Now, Ewan here is going to lead the Prancing Ponies," she continued out loud, "Phoebe will lead the Sparkling Dogs, and I will lead the Magic Markers."
So everyone lined up in front of the stool, a grumble here and there. The first in line (not surprisingly) was Hermione.
She sat upright on the stool, lifting the handkerchief very carefully with the tip of her pinky. She sniffed at it, coughing wildly as some strange fumes emerged from the deep dark stainage of its surface. She threw a desperate look at Phoebe, Ewan, and Tara (all standing by the stool with their arms crossed, looking stern), but Phoebe just nodded as if to say 'on with it, Frizzball' so Hermione, taking in a deep breath, put the cloth over her nose and blew on it as politely as possible.
At once the handkerchief seemed to come alive, undulating in Hermione's hands, and it released something like a giggle. Everyone stared in awe.
"Teehee! That tickled!" squealed the handkerchief, it's folds forming a little "mouth" with which to talk.
"S.. sorry," said Hermione, eyeing it like Ron might eye a gigantic spider.
"Now on to business!" The handkerchief's high-pitched girlish voice suddenly turned extremely deep and manly. Hermione jumped as it said her name. "Hermione Granger," the cloth grunted, "Never quite sharp on style, though there's always room for improvement. Miss Granger, yes...Always ready with a solution. Hmm, where to put you, where... I know! SPARKLING DOGS!"
Phoebe was the only one who cheered, since she was the only one so far in her house. Hermione slid off the stool and marched, with some reluctance, behind Phoebe who yelled "Next!"
It was Ron's turn, and he lifted the handkerchief doubtfully. Holding his breath, he blew softly on it.
"Aw now seriously Mr. Weasley," squeaked the handkerchief. "You can do better than that!"
Ron stared blankly around the crowd, then shrugged. "You... want me to blow my nose again?"
"Yes, yes!" grumbled the handkerchief. "Put some power into it! Use what ya mama gave you, son!"
Ron took a deep breath and blew as hard as he could into the cloth, which flew out of his hands and began to soar over everyone's heads, it's corners touching like it were clapping.
"That's more like it!" the handkerchief shrieked excitedly and, to everyone's shock, it drifted all the way back to Ron's outstretched hand without ever falling to the ground. Ron looked nearly ready to pass out.
"Now, Ronald Weasley," said the handkerchief grizzily, "You have red hair! There is no other house meant for you than the Sparkling Dogs!" Ron sighed, utterly relieved to be away from the schizophrenic rag, and raced to meet Hermione and Phoebe, who's eyes were glowing so proudly she looked a bit deranged herself. She grabbed Ron and gave him a big sloppy kiss, turning him the exact shade of his head. Everyone laughed except for Christian, who's mouth hung open in disbelief.
"Phoebe!!!! Wh.. Who.. Wh... HOW could, whaa!...." he trailed off, turning purple and flinging money everywhere. He ran toward Ron and Phoebe in a fit of rage, but the handkerchief leapt up off the stool immediately and slapped him clean across the face. (It didn't hurt, of course.)
"Youuuur gift is your sooong," the hankie sang into Christian's face, startling him and everyone else present.
"Well if it isn't the poetic penniless writer!" the handkerchief bellowed, stuffing itself up Christian's nose and making him turn brighter than day. "It is your lucky day, Christian--Mr. Shy and Sad of Eye!" (Christian just gawked.) "You belong in the Sparkling Dogs!"
Christian, not knowing what to say or do, just kind of dragged himself next to the other Dogs.
(Phoebe later jumped him like a trampoline to make up for lost time.)
Harry Potter was next, and he sat on the stool rather cautiously. He blew the hankie. The hankie let out an exaggerated "Oooooooooooohhh! Bless my lace! It's Harry Potter!" Harry blushed, adjusting his glasses like a dork.
"Well Mr. Potter, I think you know precisely where you must go! MAGIC MARKERS!"
Harry gasped, all upset that he wasn't with Ron and Hermione, and slugged over to the madly cheering Tara. "Whooohoo!" she screamed, "That's ONE POINT FOR ME!!"
"Uh Tara, we're not *playing* anything," said Phoebe dryly.
Tara deflated and muttered: "Oh."
Next up was Frodo, and the minute the handkerchief touched his nose it shouted "Prancing Ponies!" Frodo, shocked at the quick reaction, scurried over to Ewan (leader of House One) who was so excited about his first member that he began doing jumping jacks over the hobbit's head.
"YYYYEAH!!" Ewan shouted so loud that Zeus had to come down and tell him to shut up. "That's a score for the Ponies, baby!!!"
"Ewan," said Phoebe in a terrific demonstration of patience, "We're. Not. Playing. A. Game."
Ewan wound down slowly and said in a real quiet voice: "Oh."
Next up was Samwise, who instinctively followed Frodo without even touching the hankie. No one argued. Ewan collected his new member with a little more pinache; doing carthweels in silence, rather than awakening the heavens.
Next was Commodus. He blew on the hankie, and the hankie blew back without saying anything. Commodus, confused, shook it around a little to see if it was broken.
"Ey! Knock it off!" griped the handkerchief. "I was just doing some serious thinkin', Your *Highness.* Hmm...Now where to put royalty, where oh where.. Ah! Magic Markers for you, Emporer!"
Tara skipped around in a circle as the disgruntled Roman moved to her side, all the while glaring down at Harry Potter.
"You're lucky we're on the same team, Pothead," Commodus muttered under his breath.
Then there was Legolas, who more or less squeaked instead of blowing into the cloth.
"Bahahaha!" the hankie blurted. "Legolas of Mirkwood! Tell us, how mirky IS your wood?" Then the hankie twisted and turned in Legolas' hand, laughing so hysterically at itself a little yellow liquid seeped from its seams. Everyone stared in silence; Legolas made the face he makes after Gandalf falls into shadow.
"Aaaaanyway," said the hankie, shaking off a few more giggles. "Prancing Ponies, Master Elf! Go on before I kill myself here, whoo.. mirky woods.. abahhahaa.."
Legolas obeyed, throwing the cloth down on the ground and receiving a laundry list of obscenities from it in return. Aragorn, who was next, lifted it and sat down. He actually sneezed into the cloth, thoroughly wiping his nose with it, grunting.
"Uh, gee thanks," grumbled the handkerchief, "You must be that blasted Ranger, Aragorn. Or Strider. Or Estel. Or Elessar. Or He-Who-Does-Not-Know-The-Meaning-Of-Shampoo. You are so obviously a Magic Marker, now get outta here!"
Tara cheered by herself again, smacking Commodus and Harry over the heads. They gave miserable "yay's" through their teeth. Aragorn lined up beside Tara, proudly puffing out his chest as she tentatively braided the under-arm hair that stuck out from his pajamas.
Obi-Wan gave her the evil eye, huffily sitting in the stool and blowing angrily into the hankie.
"Ooo, a Jedi Knight," cooed the hankie. "So manly, so very sexy. It's Obi-Wan, Attack of the Clones-style!" (Obi gave it a strange look.) "You belong with the Magic Markers!" Obi-Wan grunted, placing himself on the other side of Tara, glaring jealous-fully at Aragorn. Tara began to brush out Aragorn's chest hairs. Obi turned red.
Next up was Qui-Gon, who blew on the hankie without bothering to sit. The handkerchief came to life, complimenting Qui-Gon on his well-kept hair and glorious endowments (drawing curious reactions from the crowd) before finally settling him in the Sparkling Dogs. Phoebe welcomed him to her House, staring squarely at his middle and wondering if what the hankie said was true.
"It has to be," whispered Samwise at her side. Phoebe smiled suggestively at the Jedi, winking behind Christian's back. Qui-Gon wasn't looking, however, as his eyes were focused on Christian's backside. Phoebe lifted a brow, gasped to herself, and continued to watch the ceremony without a word.
Next up was Merry. He was immediately sent to the Prancing Ponies. Ewan lifted him up on his shoulders, shouting 'for he's a jolly good fellow' until the others couldn't take it anymore and taped his mouth closed.
Then there was Pippin, who was immediately sent to the Magic Markers. Tara's eyes glossed at the sight of the little hobbit joining her crew, and she gave him a friendly pinch on the butt. He blushed. Obi stomped his foot. Tara ignored him.
Up next was Gandalf. He sat, blew politely into the hankie, sending the jolly little cloth into fits of laughter.
"Whaah! Whoo hoo! The beard tickles, it tickles!" When it composed itself, it continued, "Master Gandalf! A wizard of wizards! Where, I wonder, should you be?"
"Uh, Prancing Ponies?" said Gandalf flatly.
The hankie was quiet for a while before stiffly saying, "That is MY job, you know."
Gandalf shrugged and walked over to the Ponies. Ewan, so overwhelmed by the thought of Gandalf the Grey joining his company, had to be held down for fear of attacking the wizard.
Last up was Satine, who courtsied sweetly before sitting down in the stool, accidentally crushing the handkerchief.
"Oompf! Get off of me, wench!" it growled viciously, and Satine sprang to her feet.
"My dear hankie, I am SO dreadfully sorry!" she gasped.
"Yeah, just can it sweet tits! Pick me up and blow me!" the hankie grumbled. Satine complied, gagging from the weird smell. (Mrehe.) "Well you know where to go, Red! Now get outta here!"
Satine scurried over to the Sparkling Dogs, shaking hands with everyone except for Christian. The two eyed eachother awkwardly for a moment before Christian stiffly said, "Hello Satine."
"Hello Christian."
"I'm so glad you could join our House," he said without feeling.
"So am I," she replied, just as dryly.
"Been feeling better?" he asked indifferently.
"Yes, much," she replied in the same tone.
There was a long awkward silence.
Finally Phoebe spoke up.
"Well I guess we should be moving on to our designated Houses, now, so everyone follow your team leader and let's go." She scooped the colorful hankie up into her bra, and marched toward the lake.
The Prancing Ponies lined up as follows: a jittery Ewan; Frodo; Sam; Merry; Legolas; and Gandalf.
The Sparkling Dogs lined up as follows: Phoebe; Christian; Qui-Gon (his eyes lowered to the view in front of him); Hermione; Ron; and Satine.
The Magic Markers lined up as follows: Tara; Aragorn; Pippin; Commodus; Harry; and Obi-Wan.
And off they went.
"So, uh, where did you find this?" It was Christian who dared to break the silence.
"Good question," replied Tara, smugly. "There is a very old secret in this forest," she began with much suspense.
"What is it?" asked Qui-Gon, leaning forward in anxiousness with the rest of the Family.
"Well," she replied, "when I figure that out, I'll let you know."
There was a great 'Aww, you suck!' chorus from the crowd, Merry and Pippin angrily waving their "Boycott Bad Acting!" banners. Tara threw them a funny look, which only made them twice as rowdy.
"We want answers!"
"Yeah! What's going on!"
"Death to Meg Ryan!"
"Alright!" yelled Phoebe defensively, the noise dying down in waves. "Tara and Obi-Wan found the magic Talking Handkerchief deep in the forest last night, and it told us what we had to do! The secret is that no one knows how this gross piece of cloth became talkative, or magical, and it's not going to tell us anything. But know one thing! We were meant to find this forest. It is our true home."
Everyone was quiet and thoughtful; someone held a lighter up in the air.
"Here's how we do it," continued Tara. "There are three houses as you know, and one Team per house."
"Team?" inquired Hermione doubtfully.
"Yes, Afro-head, TEAM," grumbled Phoebe. "Each house belongs to its respective TEAM, which means that all the people in that one house work together for different tasks, games, or whatever else comes up. Even though we will always be one big family, we will sometimes have to sacrifice and sweat and bleed and curse violently from time to time."
"Okay," she continued, "the three teams go as follows: House One, your team is 'The Prancing Ponies.'"
There was a murmer and exchange of curious glances from all members of Lord of the Rings.
"House Two, you are 'The Sparkling Dogs.' (Again, a murmer.) And House Three, you are the "Magic Markers."'
There was a few giggles at this, and the usual curious murmer (which is actually a pretty funny word if you keep saying it)... and then a weird squirt noise.
"Aw blasted Pip," grumbled Ron, fanning the area before his nose, "the loo is just over there!" Pippin shrugged dismissively, his face colored.
"Anyway," said Tara, ignoring them. "The Three House leaders are the three people who are from this world--that's myself, Phoebe, and Ewan." Ewan gave a light tremor, every hair on his body standing on end. Tara glanced the Ring on his finger, remembering what Phoebe told her the day before. 'He looks like he's on crack!' she thought to herself. 'But we'll deal with that soon enough.'
"Now, Ewan here is going to lead the Prancing Ponies," she continued out loud, "Phoebe will lead the Sparkling Dogs, and I will lead the Magic Markers."
So everyone lined up in front of the stool, a grumble here and there. The first in line (not surprisingly) was Hermione.
She sat upright on the stool, lifting the handkerchief very carefully with the tip of her pinky. She sniffed at it, coughing wildly as some strange fumes emerged from the deep dark stainage of its surface. She threw a desperate look at Phoebe, Ewan, and Tara (all standing by the stool with their arms crossed, looking stern), but Phoebe just nodded as if to say 'on with it, Frizzball' so Hermione, taking in a deep breath, put the cloth over her nose and blew on it as politely as possible.
At once the handkerchief seemed to come alive, undulating in Hermione's hands, and it released something like a giggle. Everyone stared in awe.
"Teehee! That tickled!" squealed the handkerchief, it's folds forming a little "mouth" with which to talk.
"S.. sorry," said Hermione, eyeing it like Ron might eye a gigantic spider.
"Now on to business!" The handkerchief's high-pitched girlish voice suddenly turned extremely deep and manly. Hermione jumped as it said her name. "Hermione Granger," the cloth grunted, "Never quite sharp on style, though there's always room for improvement. Miss Granger, yes...Always ready with a solution. Hmm, where to put you, where... I know! SPARKLING DOGS!"
Phoebe was the only one who cheered, since she was the only one so far in her house. Hermione slid off the stool and marched, with some reluctance, behind Phoebe who yelled "Next!"
It was Ron's turn, and he lifted the handkerchief doubtfully. Holding his breath, he blew softly on it.
"Aw now seriously Mr. Weasley," squeaked the handkerchief. "You can do better than that!"
Ron stared blankly around the crowd, then shrugged. "You... want me to blow my nose again?"
"Yes, yes!" grumbled the handkerchief. "Put some power into it! Use what ya mama gave you, son!"
Ron took a deep breath and blew as hard as he could into the cloth, which flew out of his hands and began to soar over everyone's heads, it's corners touching like it were clapping.
"That's more like it!" the handkerchief shrieked excitedly and, to everyone's shock, it drifted all the way back to Ron's outstretched hand without ever falling to the ground. Ron looked nearly ready to pass out.
"Now, Ronald Weasley," said the handkerchief grizzily, "You have red hair! There is no other house meant for you than the Sparkling Dogs!" Ron sighed, utterly relieved to be away from the schizophrenic rag, and raced to meet Hermione and Phoebe, who's eyes were glowing so proudly she looked a bit deranged herself. She grabbed Ron and gave him a big sloppy kiss, turning him the exact shade of his head. Everyone laughed except for Christian, who's mouth hung open in disbelief.
"Phoebe!!!! Wh.. Who.. Wh... HOW could, whaa!...." he trailed off, turning purple and flinging money everywhere. He ran toward Ron and Phoebe in a fit of rage, but the handkerchief leapt up off the stool immediately and slapped him clean across the face. (It didn't hurt, of course.)
"Youuuur gift is your sooong," the hankie sang into Christian's face, startling him and everyone else present.
"Well if it isn't the poetic penniless writer!" the handkerchief bellowed, stuffing itself up Christian's nose and making him turn brighter than day. "It is your lucky day, Christian--Mr. Shy and Sad of Eye!" (Christian just gawked.) "You belong in the Sparkling Dogs!"
Christian, not knowing what to say or do, just kind of dragged himself next to the other Dogs.
(Phoebe later jumped him like a trampoline to make up for lost time.)
Harry Potter was next, and he sat on the stool rather cautiously. He blew the hankie. The hankie let out an exaggerated "Oooooooooooohhh! Bless my lace! It's Harry Potter!" Harry blushed, adjusting his glasses like a dork.
"Well Mr. Potter, I think you know precisely where you must go! MAGIC MARKERS!"
Harry gasped, all upset that he wasn't with Ron and Hermione, and slugged over to the madly cheering Tara. "Whooohoo!" she screamed, "That's ONE POINT FOR ME!!"
"Uh Tara, we're not *playing* anything," said Phoebe dryly.
Tara deflated and muttered: "Oh."
Next up was Frodo, and the minute the handkerchief touched his nose it shouted "Prancing Ponies!" Frodo, shocked at the quick reaction, scurried over to Ewan (leader of House One) who was so excited about his first member that he began doing jumping jacks over the hobbit's head.
"YYYYEAH!!" Ewan shouted so loud that Zeus had to come down and tell him to shut up. "That's a score for the Ponies, baby!!!"
"Ewan," said Phoebe in a terrific demonstration of patience, "We're. Not. Playing. A. Game."
Ewan wound down slowly and said in a real quiet voice: "Oh."
Next up was Samwise, who instinctively followed Frodo without even touching the hankie. No one argued. Ewan collected his new member with a little more pinache; doing carthweels in silence, rather than awakening the heavens.
Next was Commodus. He blew on the hankie, and the hankie blew back without saying anything. Commodus, confused, shook it around a little to see if it was broken.
"Ey! Knock it off!" griped the handkerchief. "I was just doing some serious thinkin', Your *Highness.* Hmm...Now where to put royalty, where oh where.. Ah! Magic Markers for you, Emporer!"
Tara skipped around in a circle as the disgruntled Roman moved to her side, all the while glaring down at Harry Potter.
"You're lucky we're on the same team, Pothead," Commodus muttered under his breath.
Then there was Legolas, who more or less squeaked instead of blowing into the cloth.
"Bahahaha!" the hankie blurted. "Legolas of Mirkwood! Tell us, how mirky IS your wood?" Then the hankie twisted and turned in Legolas' hand, laughing so hysterically at itself a little yellow liquid seeped from its seams. Everyone stared in silence; Legolas made the face he makes after Gandalf falls into shadow.
"Aaaaanyway," said the hankie, shaking off a few more giggles. "Prancing Ponies, Master Elf! Go on before I kill myself here, whoo.. mirky woods.. abahhahaa.."
Legolas obeyed, throwing the cloth down on the ground and receiving a laundry list of obscenities from it in return. Aragorn, who was next, lifted it and sat down. He actually sneezed into the cloth, thoroughly wiping his nose with it, grunting.
"Uh, gee thanks," grumbled the handkerchief, "You must be that blasted Ranger, Aragorn. Or Strider. Or Estel. Or Elessar. Or He-Who-Does-Not-Know-The-Meaning-Of-Shampoo. You are so obviously a Magic Marker, now get outta here!"
Tara cheered by herself again, smacking Commodus and Harry over the heads. They gave miserable "yay's" through their teeth. Aragorn lined up beside Tara, proudly puffing out his chest as she tentatively braided the under-arm hair that stuck out from his pajamas.
Obi-Wan gave her the evil eye, huffily sitting in the stool and blowing angrily into the hankie.
"Ooo, a Jedi Knight," cooed the hankie. "So manly, so very sexy. It's Obi-Wan, Attack of the Clones-style!" (Obi gave it a strange look.) "You belong with the Magic Markers!" Obi-Wan grunted, placing himself on the other side of Tara, glaring jealous-fully at Aragorn. Tara began to brush out Aragorn's chest hairs. Obi turned red.
Next up was Qui-Gon, who blew on the hankie without bothering to sit. The handkerchief came to life, complimenting Qui-Gon on his well-kept hair and glorious endowments (drawing curious reactions from the crowd) before finally settling him in the Sparkling Dogs. Phoebe welcomed him to her House, staring squarely at his middle and wondering if what the hankie said was true.
"It has to be," whispered Samwise at her side. Phoebe smiled suggestively at the Jedi, winking behind Christian's back. Qui-Gon wasn't looking, however, as his eyes were focused on Christian's backside. Phoebe lifted a brow, gasped to herself, and continued to watch the ceremony without a word.
Next up was Merry. He was immediately sent to the Prancing Ponies. Ewan lifted him up on his shoulders, shouting 'for he's a jolly good fellow' until the others couldn't take it anymore and taped his mouth closed.
Then there was Pippin, who was immediately sent to the Magic Markers. Tara's eyes glossed at the sight of the little hobbit joining her crew, and she gave him a friendly pinch on the butt. He blushed. Obi stomped his foot. Tara ignored him.
Up next was Gandalf. He sat, blew politely into the hankie, sending the jolly little cloth into fits of laughter.
"Whaah! Whoo hoo! The beard tickles, it tickles!" When it composed itself, it continued, "Master Gandalf! A wizard of wizards! Where, I wonder, should you be?"
"Uh, Prancing Ponies?" said Gandalf flatly.
The hankie was quiet for a while before stiffly saying, "That is MY job, you know."
Gandalf shrugged and walked over to the Ponies. Ewan, so overwhelmed by the thought of Gandalf the Grey joining his company, had to be held down for fear of attacking the wizard.
Last up was Satine, who courtsied sweetly before sitting down in the stool, accidentally crushing the handkerchief.
"Oompf! Get off of me, wench!" it growled viciously, and Satine sprang to her feet.
"My dear hankie, I am SO dreadfully sorry!" she gasped.
"Yeah, just can it sweet tits! Pick me up and blow me!" the hankie grumbled. Satine complied, gagging from the weird smell. (Mrehe.) "Well you know where to go, Red! Now get outta here!"
Satine scurried over to the Sparkling Dogs, shaking hands with everyone except for Christian. The two eyed eachother awkwardly for a moment before Christian stiffly said, "Hello Satine."
"Hello Christian."
"I'm so glad you could join our House," he said without feeling.
"So am I," she replied, just as dryly.
"Been feeling better?" he asked indifferently.
"Yes, much," she replied in the same tone.
There was a long awkward silence.
Finally Phoebe spoke up.
"Well I guess we should be moving on to our designated Houses, now, so everyone follow your team leader and let's go." She scooped the colorful hankie up into her bra, and marched toward the lake.
The Prancing Ponies lined up as follows: a jittery Ewan; Frodo; Sam; Merry; Legolas; and Gandalf.
The Sparkling Dogs lined up as follows: Phoebe; Christian; Qui-Gon (his eyes lowered to the view in front of him); Hermione; Ron; and Satine.
The Magic Markers lined up as follows: Tara; Aragorn; Pippin; Commodus; Harry; and Obi-Wan.
And off they went.