Mere hours after the Battle of Helm's Deep has ended, a herald of Theoden's band of Eored meets up with the rather exhausted Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Aragorn is leaning against the wall, his eyes closed and breathing hard, Legolas is wiping his borrowed, bloodstained sword with one of Gimli's kerchiefs and listening absently to his dwarven friend, who is ranting about the Uruk-Hai he killed during the battle.
I swear, it was this enormous, huge, monstrous beast of an Uruk... he raved, flailing his arms about to indicate its size. Legolas rolled his eyes, unimpressed.
I'm sure it was, Gimli, he said sarcastically, not looking up (or in this case, down). Aragorn fought to control a snigger as Gimli heard the sarcasm in Legolas' voice. The dwarf frowned, and the elf grinned. Playfully kicking the dwarf, he laughed. Gimli kicked him back, no humor in his face, and soon the two were engaged in a small fist fight. It ended with Legolas' blade pointed alarmingly close to Gimli's throat.
The herald, whose name was Fóralef, cleared his own throat to get their attention. Legolas looked up, an ugly purple bruise beginning to spread across his forehead. Gimli looked over, his nose bleeding, and Aragorn opened his eyes.
Maybe this was a bad time, began Fóralef, eying Legolas' naked sword. Legolas quickly hid it behind his back, looked away, and began whistling innocently.
Ignore them. What is it, valiant Rohirrim? What message do you bring us from Théoden King? asked Aragorn.
Um... My lord only wishes that you know that... he has... fired you, said the herald, grimacing.
FIRED US?!?!?! said all three warriors in unison.
Fired?! A warrior fired?! Legolas sputtered.
Fir-- I don't believe it! Gimli was appalled.
I don't believe I heard you correctly. I think you said he fired us, said Aragorn calmly, a puzzled look on his face.
He did fire you, unless there's another Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli here, said Fóralef hesitantly.
But why? Legolas caught his arm as he turned to leave.
I don't make the messages, I just deliver said the herald, shrugging. He walked away.
Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli stood in utter disbelief.
They, the Three Hunters, had been fired.

They were actually all right financially for a while, until Gimli decided to have a little shopping spree at the local Abercrombie-Fitch. Gimli walked into their tiny, cramped, messy, one-bedroom apartment with a huge shopping bag.
Hey guys, look what I bought today! he exclaimed excitedly.
Legolas came out of the kitchen. Seeing the name on the shopping bag, he slapped his hand to his face and sighed, shaking his head.
Aragorn, you'd better come take a look at this.
Aragorn came running with an iron in his hand and a frilly apron on.
Oh, no. Gimli, you were supposed to go pick up the cheapest bread and milk in the grocery store!
I know, I know, but I was walking past AF and saw these, and I couldn't resist! I thought I was just going to look, but next thing I know, I come out with these!
said Legolas slowly. Exactly how much did you spend?
Gimli dumped out the bag onto Aragorn's cot. There were enough clothes in there to have lasted two weeks without washing any of them.
said Gimli, very quietly and very fast.
Three hundred and fifty dollars! croaked Legolas.
Gimli, we only had $350.05 in our bank account, said Aragorn sternly.
At least I didn't spend it all! said Gimli. And look at this stuff I got!
You're going to return it all tomorrow, declared Aragorn.
Um... AF doesn't do returns, said the dwarf guiltily.
YOU MEAN YOU SPENT ALL--
Not all--
FORGET IT! YOU SPENT PRACTICALLY ALL OF OUR MONEY ON CLOTHES?!? roared Aragorn.
AND NOW WE HAVE FIVE CENTS LEFT OVER FOR FOOD?!?! yelled Legolas.
Um... yeah, that pretty much covers it. said Gimli sheepishly. His friends simply stared pointedly at him.
Gimli, you do realize that we haven't paid our rent, our electricity, or our water yet? said Legolas. As he spoke the lights flickered out. Aragorn rolled his eyes.
I'll go find the candles, he sighed, leaving the room.
Legolas went into the bathroom, turning the faucet. Nothing came out. Great. No water either, he yelled, glaring at Gimli.
Gimli blushed, embarrassed.

The next day the doorbell rang, and a pudgy man in a tight tweed suit stood there with a tightly rolled paper under his arm. Legolas answered the door, and stood at least a head taller than the man.
said the man, blinking his watery eyes.
He's... uh... busy right now, lied Legolas, looking back to hear Aragorn and Gimli arguing again. But I can help you.
Well, your rent is due in three days, and if you can't pay it by then, you're evicted. Technically speaking, it was due today, but you get the gist. He walked away, his nose held high in the air.
Aragorn walked in, having heard the whole thing. So if we can't pay up, were out of here, he said. And it's all your fault, Gimli.
No it's-- yes it's-- but it's-- argh! Gimli stomped away.
Guess this means we need to find new jobs, said Aragorn. Boy am I going to miss being a warrior.
Legolas nodded. Me too.
Gimli grunted from the bathroom. Oi! Why won't the toilet flush?!
Aragorn rubbed his temples. Because we couldn't afford to pay the water.
persisted Gimli. Aragorn groaned.
Legolas went back into the bedroom, lifting his quiver and his bow from beneath his cot. Aragorn followed him, seizing Anduríl's hilt and drawing it from its sheath. Legolas stroked the polished wood of his bow and sighed.
It's for a good cause, said Aragorn, patting his shoulder.
I'm not going to sell it, genius! exclaimed Legolas.
Oh, OK then, I won't sell Anduríl either. But we do need the money... Both looked at Gimli's fine axe.