A/N: Ooh, I like it when I update relatively quickly! It makes me feel special, like that one time when I tested out of the grammar portion of Honors English!

Yes, I had to mention that.

Anyway...

Rica: Brilliantly insightful comment. I concur wholeheartedly.

The Nine in Trouble!

Chapter 5

Shakatablar the Incredibly Nasty and Yarblabdat the Warty inched their way through the dense snow, not realizing that it was Russian snow and that they should be on a totally different continent.

Don't you love it when things like this happen?

Sauron certainly didn't.

- Mordor -

Sauron's Grand Advisory Council was holding an emergency meeting at Sauron's explicit request. To get to the Meeting Room you had to first pass through Sauron's Ultra-Secret Planning Room, two vaults, a tunnel, and a booby trap of a rather ghastly sort, which will not be discussed at this time. These precautions were to ensure that the meetings were not disturbed.

In the case of this meeting, the precautions did not matter. Everyone there was disturbed anyway.

"The Ring is in the hands of a psychopath. My Nazgul are missing. The Uruks are late, and my two orc scouts are in the middle of Siberia, half a world away from their destination! I want to know why, and I want to know RIGHT NOW!" Sauron banged his spiky fist on the long Meeting Table.

An orc fifteen seats down or so raised his hand and waved it around in the air.

Sauron rolled his eyes. "Yes?" he said after a moment.

The orc stood up. "The Ring is in the hands of the Evil Jeweler Dude because he picked it up. The Nazgul are missing because we lost track of them. The Uruks are late because Saruman Reincarnate couldn't get them ready for you on time, and the orc scouts are in Siberia because there was a malfunction in the Time-Space Transporter," he said, all in one breath.

If looks could kill, Sauron's would have bored a hole through the orc's skull. Actually, Sauron's looks could kill, so the orc was dead and on the ground in two hundredths of a second.

"Who is your leader?" Sauron boomed evilly.

A chorus of you's echoed in the Meeting Room.

"Would you insult your leader?"

A chorus of no's echoed in the Meeting Room.

"Am I equivalent to my intelligence?"

The orcs eyed him vacantly.

"Just say yes, imbeciles."

A chorus of yes's echoed in the Meeting Room.

"I am your leader. You would never insult me. I am equivalent to my intelligence. Therefore, if you insult my intelligence, you insult me. NEVER INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE!" Sauron thundered. "Capiche?"

A chorus of capiche's echoed in the Meeting Room.

"Good, good, very good," Sauron said smugly. Then reverting back to his nasty demeanor, he roared, "But that doesn't mean I'm finished with you! I want you all on this – this – this indignity, before I beat the slimy daylights out of each and every one of you! Grrr…"

The orcs all stood up with a snap. "Sir yes sir!" they shouted, and they scrambled out the exit of the Meeting Room, inched their way past the rather ghastly booby trap, and sprinted through the tunnel, two vaults, and Ultra-Secret Planning Room, leaving Sauron standing in the Meeting Room.

He snickered to himself and pressed a big red button by the door. An aperture opened up in the wall, revealing an elevator to the surface, which he then boarded.

* * *

The Nine sat lethargically in their cell as Bubba continued his unpleasant cacophony of belches. Smeagol began to scratch the cell floor sluggishly with his long fingers.

Two yawned. "When are we ever going to get out of here?"

"Hmm…" mumbled Seven.

Three was asleep, but started singing, "I'm a little teapot, see how they run, how I wonder what you are, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, and up the spout again…."

Eight looked on with disgust. His eyes then took another scan of the cell. Then he did a double-take, focusing on Smeagol.

"My God! Smeagol you idiot! Why didn't you tell us you could dig?!"

For the floor Smeagol was scratching at had developed a good-sized dent, which was continuing to grow with every swipe of the finger.

Smeagol, not realizing what he was doing, glanced at Eight with a "Huh?" before staring down at the dent in amazement. "Precious! Yess, Precious! Smeagol is free!" He did his little dance that he does in the second movie before starting to dig in earnest.

The other eight had woken up by this point and were staring at the flying dirt and concrete in amazement. In ten seconds, the dent had become a tunnel spanning a good four feet, getting deeper and deeper every moment.

In ten minutes, the Nine, Smeagol, and Bubba were outside, face to face with the radiant sun.

* * *

"Ready, halt!"

The voice resonated before the Black Gates of Mordor, followed by the irritating screeching of the metronome. "Chee-co chee-co chee – " the orc at the front turned it off.

"Dress center dress!"

The Uruks snapped their heads toward the center column, lining themselves up and straightening the ranks.

"Ready, front!"

Their head snapped back forward.

"About face, idiots!" screamed the orc at the front. The Uruks all turned around so they were facing the Black Gates. "Congratulations! You've made it to Mordor! Now in about five minutes these gates are going to open, and Sauron isn't going to be impressed by a bunch of sloppy, technically lax orcs. He will be impressed by a professional, together appearance! When you go in there, I want to see perfect technique! I want straight lines! I want order!"

Just then, the Black Gates open and the Uruks make a mad rush for the entrance, trampling over the orc at the front in their frenzy.

"Ow," he says.

* * *

Yay! Now I have five chapters! Please review them!

~ Anoriel