KT SHY: Special, special thanks to all my dear reviewers. To Tanny (yay! We got the same crazy sense o humor!) Zidanelover167 (you punk… write more fanfic now!) Sammykins (*gives u a tissue and a huggle ^________^*), Songbirdy (I won't ask, lol), Htebazy (thanku thanku!), Kyrthira Phelan for pointing out the error in age on Aragorn which I then corrected. Thanks! Man he's doing quite well for being almost 90. Also to the mystery reviewer - who left without a name but with a kind message! Aaaaaand thanks to the ever-wonderful Starbrat! Booo! (lol) Go read her fanfic. Nooooooow.

Credit for the scene with the Nazgûl at the inn goes entirely to the 'Qing of Quirk': Shagster, formally known as Shag Dowg).

Eye on the Prize

Act V: The Split Road

'Themastershouldbebackbynowwhythehellisn'thebackbynow!?' The Witch-King whimpered and gibbered this as he made another pass around the seating area, occupied by the other Nazgûl. A few of the black clad figures looked up mildly from their game of @$$hole.

'I mean Saruman keeps demanding an audience with him and the only reason Gondor hasn't attacked yet is because they're baffled at the encampment of piranha-poodles outside their walls. What do I do what do I do??? That little munchkin monster upstairs refuses to leave his chamber! And… AHH! I'm loosing hair! I don't even have a head and I'm loosing hair!!!!!'

One of the two Ring Wraiths still playing tossed down the two of spades. 'HA! I win! Yooou're the @$$$$$hole!'

'Sssscrew yoou guuuysss! I didn't wanna plaaay thisss sssstupid game in the fiiirsssst plaaace!'

'THAT'S IT!!!'

They all looked up at their leader. The Witch-King pulled himself out of the trench he had worn in the carpet. 'YOU have to go find the Master! You can follow the Ring to our Lord and bring him safely back!'

'But we did thaaat the laaaaassst time, and look where it got ussss.'

The two blazing balls of fire that were the Witch-King's eyes flared. 'Go. Out. And. Find. Him. Now.'

The passing of only a few minutes found The Eight riding off hard followed closely behind by their symphony-orchestrated choir. The Witch-King sped to the door in an apron and held aloft several paper bags, 'WAIT! You forgot your lunches!!!'

***

The way of large things at a distance is this. You THINK they're closer than they actually are because there's nothing else to judge it against size-wise and so you end up spending the whole day just trying to get there. (Anyone who's gone to visit the giant cross in Texas will know what I'm talking about). When you're 3-foot-something however and running for dear life in the middle of a chaotic battle, the interest-factor of this phenomenon is lost.

'Oh Melkor in hell what did I do to deserve this!? Well besides all those times I - AAAAAUGH!'

Sauron skidded as yet another Uruk-Hai broke concentration from the battle and lunged at him. The sheer number of Uruks trying to get the "secret shiny thingy" all for themselves was truly amazing.

Sauron side-stepped the attack and kept on going at full tilt toward the looming but annoyingly aloof forest of Fangorn. It took three more near-death experiences and a brush with a rather viscous hamster (which will not be discussed at the moment) until he finally found shelter under the dark canopy of rustling greenery.

Tripping over roots and disturbing the homes of small mammals he stomped through Fangorn to get away from the mass of idiots squabbling behind him.

'Ah man, I need to put together a plan for doubling back and getting my Ring.'

Muttering to himself Sauron plodded on through the leafy paths that seemed to open before him and close behind just as quickly.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp, *SPLAT*

'Criiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipes I stepped in craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!'

'How uncommonly stupid of you.' A low voice rumbled from somewhere above.

***

They stood upon a rocky plateau on the edge of the unholy land. Dusty barren terrain stretching before them, broken by jagged mountain ranges and ominous black crevices. On the point of horizon where red smoky sky met red cracky earth was a dark mound that could only be Mount Doom. Frodo, they reasoned, must be heading there. They'd have to take the chance and try to catch up. The Small Troop gave a collective groan at the sight of the inevitable massive hernia awaiting them on the looooooooong trek through Mordor.

***

At the local culinary establishment…

'Baaaaaaack Baaaaaaacon.'

The tavern owner, a portly fellow (never trust a skinny innkeeper) trembled under the gaze of the eight towering black hooded figures. 'Th-th- there's no back-bacon here!'

'An omelet perhaaaapppsssss?'

'W-w-w-would you like some ch-ch-ch-cheese with yer omelet tall dark sirs?'

'I would adviiise agaiinst it,' one of the figures rasped, 'You wouuldn't want to see thiss guy eat it… goesss off like a bagpipe.'

'Ssso I'm a little lactose intolerant, deal with it!'

'Cooome oon, let's hear "Flight of the Bumblebee" agaaain.'

'I ssaid shut up!'

To be continued…

KT SHY: Short? Yes. Finished? Hell no! I'm just making sure I pop out enough of the plot so as not to scare ya guys into thinking I've gone AWOL. I'm trying to make it tighter, believe me; I'm just at a transition point so it's kinda slow.

My thanks to all you intelligent and incredibly attractive people for reviewing (oh and reading… reading's important too) my silly lil' fic. It warms my heart. And special thanks to the lords and ladies at Fanfiction.net who made my name show up under author-search again! Yay! ^____________^