Cut to a reporter, holding a microphone in his hand, speaking to the camera, with Weathertop looming behind him.

Reporter: This is a frightened country. Over these fields, over these hills hangs a pall of fear. Fear of a new kind of violence, which is terrorizing the hill of Weathertop. No, not Chris Tarrant! Yes, gangs of old ladies attacking defenceless fit young men and hobbits.

Film of old ladies in dark cloaks beating up two young hobbits; Meri and Pippin, then several wraiths walking aggressively along the road, pushing passers-by aside, and telling the prostate and terrified pedestrians how things were much better back in the day.

Reporter: [Pulling aside Frodo as he runs from the hill] Excuse me, can you tell me about the incident that you just encountered with the grannies?

Frodo: Well they come up to you, and push you - shove you on the floor, like. I think I may have fell into poo. Do you know how much it costs to get these dry-cleaned? It was a present from uncle Gandalf, too. There's usually four or five of them. Old ladies that is, not the cloaks. One of the buggers stabbed me in the shoulder too. Again, that's the pensioners, not the cloaks… I don't think I have ever been stabbed by a cloak. Got a fabric burn once though… [Goes a queer shade of green]

Sam: [Running up alongside] Yeah, this used to be a nice neighbourhood before the old ladies started riding in. Nowadays some of us daren't even go down to the shops. It used to be so much better back in the day…

Frodo Interrupts: Sam! No! They got you too…

[Frodo faints]

Sam: Mr. Frodo? Mr Frodo! [Nudges reporter] He falls down all the time you know. He does it for attention I think, but I do my best to humour him…

Pippin: Well Mr Took's son Tom, he don't go out any more. He comes back from hunting and locks himself in his room. And, just in idle conversation, his laundry is a right royal… Can I say royal? Pain… Especially the sheets.

[Film of grannies harrassing Strider.]

Reporter: What are they in it for, these old hoodlums, these layabouts in black cloaks?

Wraith #1: [voice over] Well it's something to do isn't it? Oh… erm… I mean that is uh… *screeeeeeeech*

Wraith #2: [voice over] No you idiot, it's because our ruler tells us to do it. Oh erm…. *cackle*

Wraith #3: [voice over] It's like you know, well, innit, eh? We're not really grannies you know, we're the Nazgûl, the ring wraiths, bent to the power of the *choke* hey! *Cough* Whaddya do that for?

Reporter: Favourite targets for the *old ladies* are fireplaces.

Film of wraiths carrying off a fireplace; then painting slogans on a wall.

Shirrif: [coming up to them] Well come on, come on, off with you. Clear out, come on get out of it. [they clear off, he turns to camera] We have a lot of trouble with these oldies. Pension day's the worst - they go mad. As soon as they get their hands on their money they blow it all on milk, bread, tea, tin of meat for the cat. And not forgetting hairnets of course. Catfood and hairnets.

Wraith #4: That's because of the hair thieves! Come in the night, steal your hair they do… *screeeeeaaaam*

Wraith #3: Shut up. *eeeek*

[Cut to cinema.]

Cinema Manager: Yes, well of course they come here for the two o'clock matinee, all the old bags out in there, especially if it's something like 'The Sound of Music'. We get seats ripped up, hearing aids broken by the screeching, all that sort of thing. AND they keep singing "Roll out the barrel-screech" and "Maybe it's because I'm a Londener", and I don't even know what a Londener is!

A policeman hustles two grannies out of the cinema. Cut to reporter walking along street.

Reporter: The whole problem of these senile delinquents lies in their complete rejection of the values of contemporary society. They've seen their children grow up and become accountants, stockbrokers and even sociologists. Mind you, that would make *me* feel a little evil too, and seen themselves fall into demise under the sway of the one...[disappears downwards rapidly] arggh!

Shot of two grannies replacing manhole cover. Cut to our four hobbits in Middle-earth again.

Sam: Oh well we sometimes feel we're to blame in some way for what the wraiths became. I mean they used to be happy here until they, they started on the crochet.

Reporter: [off-screen] Crochet?

Sam: Yeah. Now they can't do without it. Twenty balls of wool a day, sometimes. If they can't get the wool they get violent. And don't get me started on the hands of bridge… *shudders* What can we do about it?

Film of wraiths on horses roaring down streets and through a shop. One has 'Hell's Grannies' on his cloak.

Reporter: But this is not just an old ladies' town. There are other equally dangerous gangs - such as the baby snatchers.

Film of five men in baby outfits carrying off a young man from outside a shop. Cut to distraught wife.

Wife: I just left my husband out here while I went in to do some shopping and I came back and he was gone. He was only forty-seven.

Reporter: And on the road too, vicious gangs of humpbacked bridge signs.

Film: two humpbacked bridge signs attack a vicar.

Colonel: [coming up and stopping them] Right, fight, stop it. This film's got silly. Started off with a nice little idea about grannies attacking young hobbits, but now it's just got silly. This man's hair is too long for a vicar too. These signs are pretty badly made. Right, now for a complete change of mood.

Cut to a female hobbit dancing the springle-ring

Rosie: Where's Sam when I need him? My bunions need treatment! Attend me!