The Order of the Gold Thing

By Celeny

Author's Note : This is the weirdest thing I have ever written. = )

Once upon a time, in a far away land, across two deserts, beneath three oceans, through a secret portal, past the center of the earth, and near a place where the Amish roam free, there lived a secret society.

A very secret society.

A society SO SECRET that nobody, NOBODY knew about them. Except for a small orange cat named Bob, but he doesn't come into this story so he doesn't matter.

Anyway, this secret society named themselves The Order of the Gold Thing, and they lived a quiet, happy existence breeding tomatoes and a rare kind of albino carrot until the unthinkable, or at least the unthought of by the majority of people which was practically unthinkable, occurred.

The king of all albino carrots, the vegetable from which all their seeds were drawn, suddenly uprooted and left for Vegas. Which left The Order of the Gold Thing without any albino carrot seeds, which was, unfortunately, the only way they got their money as they sold the seeds on the Black Market at a 500% inflation.

Without money, there were no limited edition X-Men comic books. Without limited edition X-Men comic books, there was, simply, no Order of the Gold Thing.

Chaos ensued.

Until one day, a glorious day, a leader emerged. The leader proclaimed that there was only one way to regain the money, X-Men comic books, and therefore the former glory of the secret society of The Order of the Gold Thing.

They must sell their namesake, their one reason for being. The must sell the Gold Thing.

A hush descended upon the members.

Sell the Gold Thing?

Impossible.

The Gold Thing was, well, a Gold Thing, a very shiny Gold Thing that was gingerly swaddled in a McDonald's Big Mac wrapper at the top of an empty Fruit - n - Yogurt Parfait container. It was worshipped by all Order members as the pinnacle of society, their very reason for being. They could not sell it. They could never sell it.

"I will give a rare Wolverine action figure to the people who do it." Said the leader.

Every person immediately scrambled to be chosen, and many were trampled and buried under the avalanche of fast food wrappers that fell from the ceiling. The leader held up his staff made of the last albino carrots for silence.

"I will take it." Said Order Member Frodo. "I will take the Thing to be sold."

"We're going too!" said Merry and Sam.

"Yeah, how come HE only gets the Wolverine action figure?" said Pippin.

The Order of Thing began to cheer.

"May the blessings of the McChicken go with you."

**

"The...light.." said Frodo. "It is almost as beautiful as the golden ballpark corndogs wrappers."

"Almost." Agreed Sam in awe. After all, when you live past the center of the earth and near where the Amish roam free, you don't see a lot of sunshine. The four stood in shock for about an hour before Merry spoke up.

"We need to sell the Gold Thing. The leader said that The Dark Lord Sauron had made the best deal so far, and that we need to go to..." he studied the direction he had written on the back of a Wendy's bag, "Mordor to find him."

And so they walked.

"I'm hungry." Said Pippin, staring at the fields, oh the endless fields, of corn stalks.

Suddenly, in the distance, a horrible whinnying was heard. Frodo looked up in horror. A rider, with a puffed chef's hat that wreathed its face in shadow, upon a fat white horse draped with a French flag that read 'Gordon bleu', charged from a covering of trees. He pulled the other three Order members in the coverings of a tree root.

The chef rider stopped in front of their tree.

Frodo's eyes darted around in fear as a smell, the most delicious smell ever smelled by any living creature, wafted over their heads.

The chef rider had taken out a silver platter, on which was laid the most tempting thing of all. A large double cheeseburger meal from McDonalds.

Frodo closed his eyes in ecstasy, his fingers slowly unwrapping the Gold Thing. The smell became even more enticing..Sam elbowed Frodo in the ribs, and Pippin threw a rock in another corner of the woods they had been walking through.

The chef rider 'oh oh oh!'ed in a French accent from excitement, and rode away on the fat horse.

The four emerged from the tree root, making sure the rider was gone.

"What was that?" said Merry, looking away in the direction it had vanished.

"It was a chef rider. A blue-ribbon cook of award winning French food at expensive restaurants, the very thing McDonald's and other fast food places are against." Frodo shuddered. "It tried to tempt me with a double cheeseburger meal...it was awful."

"But why are they after us?"

"The Gold Thing is very special, Merry. It controls the balance of food in the whole world. Used for evil, the fine food at French restaurants, it could control the world."

There was a respective silence.

"We need to sell it to Sauron as soon as we can."

"But how do we get there?" whined Pippin in a pained voice. "It's not like I'm going to suddenly walk into a signpost that shows us the way." It was at this very moment he walked into a large signpost that read, 'This way to Bree if you want to sell a Gold Thing to Sauron'.

"Well, let's go!" said Merry. They followed the trail as night began to come on. Pippin began to sing to keep himself company.

"We love to see you smile." He hummed. Suddenly, another horrible whinnying was heard in the distance. Pippin stopped singing. Silence.

Then-

"IT'S A CHEF RIDER!!" roared Sam. The four broke into a desperate run as the fat white horse galloped after them.

"OH OH OH!" said the rider in a French accent. Pippin, Merry, and Sam fled out of the woods and jumped onto a raft in a river that conveniently appeared in front of them. Frodo lagged behind.

The lure of the double cheeseburger was too strong...

"FRODO!" yelled Pippin, stretching out his hand. Frodo caught it just in time, and pulled himself onto the raft behind them.

"We must get to Bree." He panted.

**

It was raining, and the gatekeeper was suspicious.

"There's been strange things about..people have been smelling cheeseburgers...I'd be careful young masters." He whispered mysteriously.

The four made their way into the Prancing Pony, and settled themselves at the bar after they ordered four large fries. Frodo was just adding salt as Sam elbowed him in the ribs..again.

"That man's been staring at you all night." He whispered.

"Sam, for the last time, I'm not gay." He hissed back.

"No, seriously. He looks..strange." Frodo sighed and grabbed the bartender.

"Who's that weird guy in the corner?" The bartender gave him a roguish wink and Frodo rolled his eyes. "That's Pussyfoot. He's a ranger. Strange folk with." he began to giggle. "strange names."

Suddenly, from the other end of the bar, Frodo saw Pippin surrounded by a group of men that were avidly listening to what he was saying.

"Of COURSE I know a thing. A Gold Thing! It can be used to control all the food in t-"

"PIPPIN!" said Frodo urgently, and he began to run towards him when he tripped on the uneven floor. The Gold Thing flew into the air, and Frodo, his face horrified, slipped it accidentally onto his finger.

Instantly the entire world was enveloped into white. Around him were silver platters that carried fancy French dishes and old gourmet wines. With a shock of fear he realized he saw the world as the chef riders did. A large bowl of bouillabaisse started to open like a giant eye..he tore the Thing off as he landed on the floor of the Prancing Pony.

People began to mutter as he felt a strong hand grab his shoulder.

"What are you doing? That is no mere thing you carry." A rough voice said.

"Well, actually, it - PUSSYFOOT?" exclaimed Frodo in surprise.

"I am not Pussyfoot!" said the man in injured shock. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as Elessar, also known as Estel.." Frodo nodded off. Twenty minutes later he opened his eyes and yawned.

"And you owe me your allegiance." Aragorn finished. Frodo nodded.

"Yeah. But I really need to get this Thing to Sauron, so..."

"To SAURON? But he wants to turn the world into a chain of expensive French restaurants!"

"WHAT?!" Frodo roared. "But that's the very thing we stand against!" It was at this very moment that Sam, Merry, and Pippin burst in holding empty French fry containers like swords.

"GET AWAY PUSSYFOOT!" Sam yelled.

It took several tranquilizers to get Sam to calm down and, after extensive explaining, The Order Members were convinced Sauron was definitely the wrong way to go if they didn't want the world top be taken over by fine dining.

"We leave for Rivendell in the morning."