Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A Love Story)
Chapter 2
Many minutes, though they seemed like hours, passed, after the WitchKing had left. The Eye remained motionless – not moving, even to gaze into the West, as it always did these days.
"Ah, me…", muttered Sauron. "What do you want of me, Bob, dear chap? Recognition? You want it? You shall have it!"
Riding fast, hidden beneath his billowing clock, the Wraith dashed from the Dark Tower. "Damn him! All I've done for his Evilness… and what do I get? 'Kill that one. Scare this one. Bla bla bla!'!" Thundering down the Dark Lord's gloomy gangplank, Bob turned on his steed one last time, to spit in the direction of Mordor.
"That's it. I'm going back to Morgul!"
"Confound it all… He hasn't been gone 5 blasted minutes, and I'm already missing the bloody wraith", lamented Sauron, his eyelids momentarily twitching with suppressed emotion. "Where's my damn palantir when I need it…", groaned the Eye, turning from the West, to survey his chamber. "Aha… here you are, precious seeing stone…"
In his ghostly tower, Bob sat, meditating on the events of the day.
"Well… what have you done today, Bob?", he asked himself, coldly. "Left the Dark Tower… (who knows what that'll do to our alliance…). Plus, all that furious horse-riding has done nothing for your poor thighs…".
At that moment, all other thoughts were completely evicted from the WitchKing's mind – he was not startled, though, as this had become almost a daily occurrence. (Besides – he wasn't altogether angry at having his painful previous thoughts removed)
"Bob…", came the voice in his head that he'd grown accustomed to.
"What IS it, Eye? Can't you last a minute without me? Blimey! You've been hanging on me like a leech for Ages!"
"Bob…"
"WHAT?"
"Come home to me, Bob! Jeez, I really am a sucker… you're gone an hour, and I'm already bored to tears! Tears… that reminds me… you've taken the last bottle of Visine! I NEED my Visine, Bob!"
"What… you want me to bring it back to your Tower? Gift wrapped, perhaps, with a pretty pink bow on it???"
"Well… that's certainly an idea…"
"Sauron! Get a grip."
"Sorry"
"Sorry just doesn't cut it anymore, Eye… I've been your right hand, literally, for thousands of lifeyears of Men. And you still take me for granted!"
"Sorry"
"Oh, stop the too-late apologies, Eye! Where's my certificate? Where's my 6-week-holiday you promised? Where, Sauron? Where?"
"Bob, if you want a vacation, just name the place…"
"It's not that, Eye. It's the principle of the matter that counts. Not once in all my years of standing by your side have you given me so much as a WORD of thanks! Fighting those damn Elves for you. Finding Rings (okay... that one didn't exactly go as planned…) Marshaling your troops. Supervising practically everything that happens between Mordor and Belfalas. And what do I get? Nothing. As usual! Bob goes unappreciated!"
"Bob, I can make it all up to you! Just give me a chance!"
"Well… you can start by kindly refraining from interrupting my thoughts, without asking…"
"Sorry. I forgot."
"And, you can stop bringing up my … my… um… Private Life… STOP your snickering, Eye!"
"Sorry"
"I'm not playing anymore, Eye. Either you clean up your act, or you lose your best friend. If you as much as mention Shelob (those were good times, though…), or my affairs with various Maiar, we are over!"
"Okay, okay… So. What do we do now, Bob? Won't you come back? Give me another chance! You might just be pleasantly surprised…"
"Say the magic word."
After much huffing, puffing, panting, and general uncomfortable noises from the Eye, a faint "Please?" is heard.
"Aha! You asked nicely."
"No I didn't…"
"Yes, you did. So, I'll be back. And this time, Eye… try to show your best friend some genuine appreciation!"
Sitting alone again in his Tower, (Bob refused to talk anymore, until their next meeting), the Eye pondered the events of the day. "What do I do to make him feel more appreciated?", mused the Eye. "Buy him flowers? No, no… his very touch will wither them. (Delightfully evil chap, old Bob is!) Candy? No… A nice card? No…. He never was a card type of a wraith."
Suddenly, an idea struck the Eye. "Ouch!", he exclaimed. "Damn ideas… don't they know they STING?"
The Evil One had it – he would buy his accomplice a disco ball.
