The Nine go Shopping
It's almost nine in the morning when nine men in black cloaks approach JCPenny. Number One says, "Darn, it's not open yet," as Five walks up to the window. Six follows. Five starts banging on the window. "Open, open, open," he says impatiently, and number Six says, "That won't make it open any faster." Five looks at him patronizingly.
Finally the store opens and the Nine can go inside. "Uh, new customers I see!" says the woman at the door.
They all turn their hoods in her direction. She backs away, red as a piece of paper stained red.
"Good," says Two. "I can't stand salespeople."
They approach the display of stuffed animals. "How sad," says Three. "They genetically engineer these miniature animals and then they kill them for decoration."
Eight picks up one of them. "You are so sentimental. You don't belong with us. They would fire you if they didn't need nine people for the job."
Nine also picks one up. "There is a white piece of parchment hanging out of its backside. It must have been stuffed there for a reason." He reads the tag. "One hundred percent Poll-Yester. What's poll-yester?"
"It's the fur of a defenseless animal," says Three.
"Shut up," says Eight.
"You," says Three.
"I said it first," says Eight.
"Umm, maybe we should move on to another aisle," says Six.
They do, but Eight and Three are still glaring at each other.
Soon they reach the Men's Department. They stare in awe of the copious stock around them.
"Why don't these white men move?" says Two. "They remain on these stands. How uncomfortable."
"I think they are showing off," says One. "Let's kill them now so we don't have to look at them." They all draw their swords.
"Wait," says Three. "Maybe we can help these poor souls." He goes up to one of the models. "Hey you. We – are – trying – to – help – you." He shakes it and its head falls off. Three gasps in shock. "What have I – what have I done?" he cries.
"Cool," says Eight, and he starts pushing all the models down. Soon a whole lot of indistinguishable heads is rolling around on the floor.
"Hey check this out," says Nine. "I found another piece of parchment hanging off the top of this outer garment. See, it says 'ten percent cotton, ninety percent poll-yester.' Poll-yester again!"
"Oh the poor animal who gave its fur for that garment," says Three.
Eight rolls his eyes, but nobody notices because his hood is drawn up.
"Check out this thing," says One. He holds up a foot model with a sock on it. "Somebody must have been here before we were, and cut off some of the Still Men's feet. Look at the skinny shoes these people wear." He pulls off the sock and tosses it into the pile of fake heads.
Seven spots the changing rooms first. "What is over in those inner chambers?" he says.
They all troop toward the changing rooms. There they each take a stall. Six accidentally locks himself in. "Help me! I can't get out!" he cries.
Eight says "Crawl under the door, you great stupid Man of Gondor." Six silently fumes.
Three says, "Oh the anguish! I have discovered yet another animal who gave its fur for a garment! Down with the poll-yester!"
"Oh shut up," says Eight. They all come out of the changing rooms and back into the main part of the mall. Now it is ten o'clock and the mall has filled up considerably.
"Grr," says Five, who looks at the regular human shoppers with a wary eye.
"Mommy," says a little boy. "Why are those nine tall men wearing black cloaks and growling evilly?"
"Hush Billy. It's rude to stare," says his mother, though in her head she's thinking the exact same thing.
The Nine move onward and pass by a khaki pants display. "Don't tell me," says Three. "Yet another convenience created off the misfortune of poor animals."
"Actually no," says Two. "It says 'one hundred percent cotton.' And then it's got this little picture of fruit on it. Gee, it must be made out of grapes."
"I don't care," says Three. "If it was once a living, growing thing, then I won't wear it."
Eight shakes his head. Three was obviously too weak for this job. The Nine stride onward.
Soon they reach the jewelry/belt department. "Look!" cries Six. "It's the Dark Lord's ring!" He points to a ring on display.
"You're so stupid," says Eight. "That's not Master's ring, that's a reproduction."
"Oh yeah? You think you're so smart. That is so Master's ring," says Six.
"No it's not," says Eight. "And I'll prove it, too. Hey, you! Salesperson dude!"
"Uhhhhhh, yeah?" says the person behind the counter.
"Could you show me that ring?" says Eight. The counter guy obligingly picks it up and fingers it.
"Ummm, I don't think I will," he says.
"Come on, you stupid tark, hand it over," says Eight.
"No! You can't have it! It's mine, my own, my precious! It was a birthday present!"
"Uhh, O-Kay," says Eight. He turns rather sheepishly to the other Eight behind him. "Hi," he says.
The others just stare at him from under their hoods.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" says Eight, regaining his awfulness, "That idiot has the Ring! Are we Ringwraiths or not? After him!"
But Three says, "No. Let him keep his stupid ring. That ring was once a lump of gold undisturbed in the ground!" He sniffles. "The poor thing!"
The others join in.
"Yeah!"
"We're tired of obeying Sauron!"
"Let's get out of here!"
Suddenly a big – um – thing comes out of one of the changing rooms. It is Sauron.
Six says, "Go away Sauron. We aren't serving you anymore."
Sauron says, "Whatever. Hey listen, have you guys seen my Ring anywhere around here? It started… calling to me."
"Um, yeah," says Five. "This guy right…" He turns around and the counter guy is gone. "Uh, well, it was right here."
"Somebody must have stolen it again! You fools! Use your super duper Ring-vision to find it! All of you! NOW!!!!" screams Sauron, causing a bunch of customers to look at him strangely. "What?" he asks bemusedly.
"Anyway, go find that stupid ring! It is my Precious! GO, you stupid sons of tarks! GO!" then he turns and vanishes.
"Woah," says Two. "That was cool."
"Yeah, yeah," says Eight. "Now let's get this show on the road. Move it, everybody."
And the Nine set off, back to their old jobs of searching for the Ring.