SAMENSTEIN'S MONSTER
"Sam, what's for supper?" a very obnoxious hobbit named Peregrine Took asked me as I sprawled over the fire at whatever this place was.
"I don't know, Master Took," I reply, agitated both by him and a burn his question cost me. "I'm only one hobbit."
"Sam, that is an excellent idea," declares one of our human companions, Boromir. "You should teach Pippin how to cook."
"Now wait half a moment," Pippin protests, but Boromir is already calling Merry over as well. Master Brandybuck, emerging from a bush, is accessorized with the filthiest hands I have ever seen, and that's saying a lot 'cause I'm a gardener. The soil undoubtedly came from a failed search for food. This attempt is doomed to failure as well. Thank you Master Gondorian.
"Where do you think you're goin'?" I call after Boromir, who was slinking away toward Mr. Frodo.
"You obviously have the situation well controlled," he decides.
"Well, I might as well teach the whole class at once," I hear a groan from the ranger's direction. Go figure; he'd eat dirt if he had to. Legolas doesn't seem to hear me, which is quite surprising, all things considering. Master Frodo comes down from his rock and Aragorn, Gandalf, and Gimli come as well. The elf takes a while, so I start assigning jobs without him. Being hobbits, I figure the two troublemakers will do well preparing deserts. Legolas, if he shows up, gets the bread. Aragorn is in charge of seasoning and heating (A/N a.k.a. burning) the sausage. Boromir takes control over the potatoes. Please keep 'em alive, I silently pray. Gimli keeps the stew at bay. Gandalf, it was decided, should help Mr. Frodo fix some apple pie.
Finally the no good, evil elf makes an appearance. Strangely enough, in his arms is the oddest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen.
"I didn't know it was Elven 'appreciate the cook' day!" Legolas just smiles in a way only an elf can and proceeds mysteriously over to a large boulder. While I have to find out what Legolas is doing, I can't let Aragorn out of my sight for a minute. Even with Gandalf here, I do not feel completely at ease with this human. Apparently this ranger noticed me watching him, but something behind me caused a huge grin. I turn around to see Legolas grinding up some disgusting, brown, dead plant.
"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be making bread, not dust!"
"What do you think goes in bread if wheat doesn't?" the elf smirked.
"How did you find wheat in the middle of nowhere?" I wonder.
"First off, we are close to somewhere, not the middle of nowhere. Also, elves are known to improvise." At that moment, Merry bursts out laughing and Mr. Frodo starts screaming. What was even weirder, none of the big folk did anything. I don't even want to turn around considering there was an elf nearby who looks as if he would explode (laughing) if someone didn't keep him in check.
"NO, no, no, Merry, the arrows go in after the explosive device," Pippin corrects his cousin. Before I can interfere, Legolas shouts.
"Hey! Those are my arrows, mellon nin!"
"Yeah," Mr. Gandalf cuts in, "that's my bomb" (A/N really the light from the top of his staff). Before I get the courage to tackle that fearsome wizard, Mr. Frodo freaks, running as far as he can. He is well out of sight before I can call out to 'im.
"Bye, bye, Frodo," Pippin calls. Then, as an after thought, "Wasn't he the point of this fellowship, group, thing?" The fellowship groans. (Amidst laughter, the author is groaning with them.)
In all the confusion, I guess I didn't exactly keep an eye on the ranger. The first hint I have of what he's doing is a knowing twinkle in the elf's eye.
"That's mine! Be careful, you hair brained human!"
"Uh-oh," is all Master Merry can say before Gandalf yells a word of warning.
"Timber!"
"What the. . ." I start. Then I see and enormous tree beginning to sway dangerously towards us. Unfortunately, as Gimli tries to escape its path, he stumbles on a rock. Legolas rushes toward him and tackles him out of the way with just inches to spare.
"Get off me," Gimli's voice comes, not muffled in the least. l
"Would you rather it be the tree upon you?" Legolas asks in a very joking manner. "Hey Dunedain, could we have another tree?" Gimli runs away excusing himself saying he was going to find Mr. Frodo.
"What's going to happen to the stew?" Pippin asks. The fellowship, minus Frodo and Pippin, groans. Gimli is still close enough to hear Mr. Took's stupid comment, groans as well.
"What?! What did I do? I'm making food!" Pippin protests.
"With arrows and explode thin's!" I shout. Mister Gandalf grabs his crystal out of Pippin's hand.
"My bomb," he declares with finality. Pippin puts on his saddest face, but Merry whispers something in his ear. Pippin immediately cheers up.
"Boromir, can we borrow your sword?" Boromir promptly draws 'is sword an' advances on Pippin. Before I can protest, Master Took grabs one of my pots and uses it as a shield. Merry places another on his head to be a helmet.
"Aragorn, get another tree, but don't hit the innocent angel!" Pippin yells.
"What the. . . "is all Boromir can manage before his light leaves. The elf did it again. When I wasn't lookin' he boosted Merry, complete with pot to Boromir's head, where the pot is doomed to rest.
When I look up again I see Mister Frodo, gazing at the insane sight of Boromir attempting to remove the pot while being clobbered by two civilized halflings. Master Gimli, however has not returned and Master Baggins seems about ready to retreat again. Some hobbits will never learn not to scare Mr. Frodo. I vow to get Gandalf to deal with them once Boromir is done.
"You'll never take me alive!" I hear from overhead and then follows a slight crack.
"Master Mountainhead, if you will kindly remove yourself from that branch, I will help you down without a scratch. Besides, you would save the tree much unnecessary harm."
"You mean to kill me. Never trust an elf." At that instant, I hear a terrifying crack and am certain that is the end of Master Gimli.
"Not the beard, you imbecile! NOT THE BEARD!"
"Aragorn, look out below!"
"O my!" I declare, wondering, fearfully, what has happened.
"Now look what you've done Master Mountainhead! You've ruined a perfectly good tree!"
"The tree! What about Mmhphhh," the dwarf growls, too furious to ask any more questions.
"What about my sanity?!" shouts Mister Frodo.
"What about my light?!" Boromir's muffled voice comes from the pan. (A/N At this point, Gandalf is thinking "what about my bomb," but since Frodo is still shaken up, he decides not to say it.)
"OUCH! What about my head," wails Pippin, painfully. Apparently Boromir has grabbed th handle to his helmet and injured him.
"LEAVE 'IM ALONE!" shouts Merry.
"Boromir, we don't want any hobbit casualties, only human," Mister Gandalf decides.
"Or dwarves," Legolas chimes in, still perched in a tree.
"What happened to the food?" I demand.
"You're entirely correct, Sam. Pippin, Merry, be good gentlemen and GET OFF ME!" Legolas grabs a reluctant Aragorn.
"Tulintë, mellon nin," (come my friend) the elf encourages. From what I can see, Gimli looks murderous. I guess he could make a mean stew. Mr. Frodo seems to have regained his trust in Gandalf and has begun the apple pie.
"Boromir, are you sure it's a wise idea to. ." Merry is cut off by hiss of pain.
"I didn't do it!"yells Pippin. I turn around to the delightful sight of Boromir's right pointer finger bleeding with his sword sitting where a proper knife should have been, beside the potatoes. I am quickly losing my patience. While Aragorn has managed to bandage the human, no one's bothered to save the potatoes from certain death. I race over to the boulder and do what any sane person would have: move the food.
"Going somewhere, Dunedain?" Legolas questions Aragorn, who seemed to be slipping away.
"I'm getting some athelas for Boromir," the ranger explained.
"I'm fine," Boromir protested while I asked
"Where're ya gonna get kingsfoil, athe-stuff here?" Aragorn tries to run, but in no time at all, Legolas has caught him. Elves are speeders, make no mistake.
"I know, lad. We'd be much better off without his type. Trying to send us to our doom," Gimli tells Aragorn.
"We'll all survive just as long as the "Cause of doom" (Khazad-dum) is nowhere nearby," the elf counters. Gimli just growls and Aragorn points Legolas to the bread station and Gimli to the stew (they're in opposite directions). Legolas firmly places Aragorn beside the sausage fire and dares the ranger to try to leave again.
"I'd keep a close eye on him, young hobbit," Master Gimli advises me. "Who knows what elven poison he's using in that bread.
"A pinch of Ulairë, half a tablespoon of Morgoth, two cups of yrch, 1/4 teaspoon Balrog. Dragon anyone?" Legolas asks. Over by Gandalf, Mr. Frodo laughs nervously. "A bit of Sauron for good ring." Mr. Gandalf shoots Legolas a look not to go any further. Pippin and Merry are getting dangerously close to the elf while Mr. Frodo could be mistaken for a color blind black rider. Legolas begins to sing quietly. "Dwarves beards and wizard guts, hobbit ears and human nuts. What is in the bread for us today?" Thank goodness Mr. Frodo can't hear him.
"Are apples falling from the sky again?" Aragorn asks an innocent looking Took.
"I hadn't noticed. Are they?" As if to demonstrate his point, an apple falls, hitting Master Peregrine square on the head. One falls toward Legolas, but he shoots it in midair. Another splatters all over Gimli. This, no doubt adds to his bad mood.
"Food for my precious," Aragorn growled imitating, as near as I can guess, that nasty Gollum creature. Legolas shoots him a dirty look and then looks up.
"Crebain from Unland! That's what has been dropping the apples." As he speaks, we are showered in a sea of apples. Gimli attempts to battle them and is fairly successful, aside from an accidental swipe at Master Legolas. Unfortunately, those of us without helmets are knocked unconscious. The next thing I know, Mr. Gandalf is saying somethin' about how those birds couldn't've seen nothin' but a mountain of apples, so we were fairly safe from some ol' grouch called Saruman. Boromir is cursing at Masters Took and Brandybuck.
"Hold caution for the innocent ears," Mr. Gandalf warns. Mr. Boromir mumbles something about unhealthily naive hobbits.
"Oh. . ." I groan.
"What is it, Samwise?" Master Gandalf asks.
"All the food's been covered in apples."
"Well this is certainly destined to be an enormous apple pie." Mr. Frodo observes.
Someone left the fire on down here," Legolas calls from beneath the lake of fruit. Gimli growls as a spark licks his face.
"Oh no! OH NO!" I cry, certain that a fire with this group o' loons would spell doom. As if t' save my life, as raincloud passed over us as my life passed before my eyes and rain began to fall. Only a few seconds pass before chaos erupts again.
"Mudfight!" yells Legolas.
"Now hold on. What About the food?!" I protest, but no one seems to hear. It seems as if the whole Company except Mr. Frodo and me were attacking each other.
"It's not worth it, Mr. Frodo," I say coming over to him. "It's all wrong. It's insane! What now will become of our fellowship?"
"We must hold to each other, Sam," Master Frodo says with a grin. Figuring he wouldn't disapprove, I slip off the rock and return to the chaos. After a few seconds, I hear Mr. Frodo splashing along behind me. All of us were now together, fighting in the mud.
'So be it,' I think. 'We are the Fellowship of the Ring' (Fellowship music, da da ddda. okay, I'm done. Please R/R)
"Sam, what's for supper?" a very obnoxious hobbit named Peregrine Took asked me as I sprawled over the fire at whatever this place was.
"I don't know, Master Took," I reply, agitated both by him and a burn his question cost me. "I'm only one hobbit."
"Sam, that is an excellent idea," declares one of our human companions, Boromir. "You should teach Pippin how to cook."
"Now wait half a moment," Pippin protests, but Boromir is already calling Merry over as well. Master Brandybuck, emerging from a bush, is accessorized with the filthiest hands I have ever seen, and that's saying a lot 'cause I'm a gardener. The soil undoubtedly came from a failed search for food. This attempt is doomed to failure as well. Thank you Master Gondorian.
"Where do you think you're goin'?" I call after Boromir, who was slinking away toward Mr. Frodo.
"You obviously have the situation well controlled," he decides.
"Well, I might as well teach the whole class at once," I hear a groan from the ranger's direction. Go figure; he'd eat dirt if he had to. Legolas doesn't seem to hear me, which is quite surprising, all things considering. Master Frodo comes down from his rock and Aragorn, Gandalf, and Gimli come as well. The elf takes a while, so I start assigning jobs without him. Being hobbits, I figure the two troublemakers will do well preparing deserts. Legolas, if he shows up, gets the bread. Aragorn is in charge of seasoning and heating (A/N a.k.a. burning) the sausage. Boromir takes control over the potatoes. Please keep 'em alive, I silently pray. Gimli keeps the stew at bay. Gandalf, it was decided, should help Mr. Frodo fix some apple pie.
Finally the no good, evil elf makes an appearance. Strangely enough, in his arms is the oddest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen.
"I didn't know it was Elven 'appreciate the cook' day!" Legolas just smiles in a way only an elf can and proceeds mysteriously over to a large boulder. While I have to find out what Legolas is doing, I can't let Aragorn out of my sight for a minute. Even with Gandalf here, I do not feel completely at ease with this human. Apparently this ranger noticed me watching him, but something behind me caused a huge grin. I turn around to see Legolas grinding up some disgusting, brown, dead plant.
"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be making bread, not dust!"
"What do you think goes in bread if wheat doesn't?" the elf smirked.
"How did you find wheat in the middle of nowhere?" I wonder.
"First off, we are close to somewhere, not the middle of nowhere. Also, elves are known to improvise." At that moment, Merry bursts out laughing and Mr. Frodo starts screaming. What was even weirder, none of the big folk did anything. I don't even want to turn around considering there was an elf nearby who looks as if he would explode (laughing) if someone didn't keep him in check.
"NO, no, no, Merry, the arrows go in after the explosive device," Pippin corrects his cousin. Before I can interfere, Legolas shouts.
"Hey! Those are my arrows, mellon nin!"
"Yeah," Mr. Gandalf cuts in, "that's my bomb" (A/N really the light from the top of his staff). Before I get the courage to tackle that fearsome wizard, Mr. Frodo freaks, running as far as he can. He is well out of sight before I can call out to 'im.
"Bye, bye, Frodo," Pippin calls. Then, as an after thought, "Wasn't he the point of this fellowship, group, thing?" The fellowship groans. (Amidst laughter, the author is groaning with them.)
In all the confusion, I guess I didn't exactly keep an eye on the ranger. The first hint I have of what he's doing is a knowing twinkle in the elf's eye.
"That's mine! Be careful, you hair brained human!"
"Uh-oh," is all Master Merry can say before Gandalf yells a word of warning.
"Timber!"
"What the. . ." I start. Then I see and enormous tree beginning to sway dangerously towards us. Unfortunately, as Gimli tries to escape its path, he stumbles on a rock. Legolas rushes toward him and tackles him out of the way with just inches to spare.
"Get off me," Gimli's voice comes, not muffled in the least. l
"Would you rather it be the tree upon you?" Legolas asks in a very joking manner. "Hey Dunedain, could we have another tree?" Gimli runs away excusing himself saying he was going to find Mr. Frodo.
"What's going to happen to the stew?" Pippin asks. The fellowship, minus Frodo and Pippin, groans. Gimli is still close enough to hear Mr. Took's stupid comment, groans as well.
"What?! What did I do? I'm making food!" Pippin protests.
"With arrows and explode thin's!" I shout. Mister Gandalf grabs his crystal out of Pippin's hand.
"My bomb," he declares with finality. Pippin puts on his saddest face, but Merry whispers something in his ear. Pippin immediately cheers up.
"Boromir, can we borrow your sword?" Boromir promptly draws 'is sword an' advances on Pippin. Before I can protest, Master Took grabs one of my pots and uses it as a shield. Merry places another on his head to be a helmet.
"Aragorn, get another tree, but don't hit the innocent angel!" Pippin yells.
"What the. . . "is all Boromir can manage before his light leaves. The elf did it again. When I wasn't lookin' he boosted Merry, complete with pot to Boromir's head, where the pot is doomed to rest.
When I look up again I see Mister Frodo, gazing at the insane sight of Boromir attempting to remove the pot while being clobbered by two civilized halflings. Master Gimli, however has not returned and Master Baggins seems about ready to retreat again. Some hobbits will never learn not to scare Mr. Frodo. I vow to get Gandalf to deal with them once Boromir is done.
"You'll never take me alive!" I hear from overhead and then follows a slight crack.
"Master Mountainhead, if you will kindly remove yourself from that branch, I will help you down without a scratch. Besides, you would save the tree much unnecessary harm."
"You mean to kill me. Never trust an elf." At that instant, I hear a terrifying crack and am certain that is the end of Master Gimli.
"Not the beard, you imbecile! NOT THE BEARD!"
"Aragorn, look out below!"
"O my!" I declare, wondering, fearfully, what has happened.
"Now look what you've done Master Mountainhead! You've ruined a perfectly good tree!"
"The tree! What about Mmhphhh," the dwarf growls, too furious to ask any more questions.
"What about my sanity?!" shouts Mister Frodo.
"What about my light?!" Boromir's muffled voice comes from the pan. (A/N At this point, Gandalf is thinking "what about my bomb," but since Frodo is still shaken up, he decides not to say it.)
"OUCH! What about my head," wails Pippin, painfully. Apparently Boromir has grabbed th handle to his helmet and injured him.
"LEAVE 'IM ALONE!" shouts Merry.
"Boromir, we don't want any hobbit casualties, only human," Mister Gandalf decides.
"Or dwarves," Legolas chimes in, still perched in a tree.
"What happened to the food?" I demand.
"You're entirely correct, Sam. Pippin, Merry, be good gentlemen and GET OFF ME!" Legolas grabs a reluctant Aragorn.
"Tulintë, mellon nin," (come my friend) the elf encourages. From what I can see, Gimli looks murderous. I guess he could make a mean stew. Mr. Frodo seems to have regained his trust in Gandalf and has begun the apple pie.
"Boromir, are you sure it's a wise idea to. ." Merry is cut off by hiss of pain.
"I didn't do it!"yells Pippin. I turn around to the delightful sight of Boromir's right pointer finger bleeding with his sword sitting where a proper knife should have been, beside the potatoes. I am quickly losing my patience. While Aragorn has managed to bandage the human, no one's bothered to save the potatoes from certain death. I race over to the boulder and do what any sane person would have: move the food.
"Going somewhere, Dunedain?" Legolas questions Aragorn, who seemed to be slipping away.
"I'm getting some athelas for Boromir," the ranger explained.
"I'm fine," Boromir protested while I asked
"Where're ya gonna get kingsfoil, athe-stuff here?" Aragorn tries to run, but in no time at all, Legolas has caught him. Elves are speeders, make no mistake.
"I know, lad. We'd be much better off without his type. Trying to send us to our doom," Gimli tells Aragorn.
"We'll all survive just as long as the "Cause of doom" (Khazad-dum) is nowhere nearby," the elf counters. Gimli just growls and Aragorn points Legolas to the bread station and Gimli to the stew (they're in opposite directions). Legolas firmly places Aragorn beside the sausage fire and dares the ranger to try to leave again.
"I'd keep a close eye on him, young hobbit," Master Gimli advises me. "Who knows what elven poison he's using in that bread.
"A pinch of Ulairë, half a tablespoon of Morgoth, two cups of yrch, 1/4 teaspoon Balrog. Dragon anyone?" Legolas asks. Over by Gandalf, Mr. Frodo laughs nervously. "A bit of Sauron for good ring." Mr. Gandalf shoots Legolas a look not to go any further. Pippin and Merry are getting dangerously close to the elf while Mr. Frodo could be mistaken for a color blind black rider. Legolas begins to sing quietly. "Dwarves beards and wizard guts, hobbit ears and human nuts. What is in the bread for us today?" Thank goodness Mr. Frodo can't hear him.
"Are apples falling from the sky again?" Aragorn asks an innocent looking Took.
"I hadn't noticed. Are they?" As if to demonstrate his point, an apple falls, hitting Master Peregrine square on the head. One falls toward Legolas, but he shoots it in midair. Another splatters all over Gimli. This, no doubt adds to his bad mood.
"Food for my precious," Aragorn growled imitating, as near as I can guess, that nasty Gollum creature. Legolas shoots him a dirty look and then looks up.
"Crebain from Unland! That's what has been dropping the apples." As he speaks, we are showered in a sea of apples. Gimli attempts to battle them and is fairly successful, aside from an accidental swipe at Master Legolas. Unfortunately, those of us without helmets are knocked unconscious. The next thing I know, Mr. Gandalf is saying somethin' about how those birds couldn't've seen nothin' but a mountain of apples, so we were fairly safe from some ol' grouch called Saruman. Boromir is cursing at Masters Took and Brandybuck.
"Hold caution for the innocent ears," Mr. Gandalf warns. Mr. Boromir mumbles something about unhealthily naive hobbits.
"Oh. . ." I groan.
"What is it, Samwise?" Master Gandalf asks.
"All the food's been covered in apples."
"Well this is certainly destined to be an enormous apple pie." Mr. Frodo observes.
Someone left the fire on down here," Legolas calls from beneath the lake of fruit. Gimli growls as a spark licks his face.
"Oh no! OH NO!" I cry, certain that a fire with this group o' loons would spell doom. As if t' save my life, as raincloud passed over us as my life passed before my eyes and rain began to fall. Only a few seconds pass before chaos erupts again.
"Mudfight!" yells Legolas.
"Now hold on. What About the food?!" I protest, but no one seems to hear. It seems as if the whole Company except Mr. Frodo and me were attacking each other.
"It's not worth it, Mr. Frodo," I say coming over to him. "It's all wrong. It's insane! What now will become of our fellowship?"
"We must hold to each other, Sam," Master Frodo says with a grin. Figuring he wouldn't disapprove, I slip off the rock and return to the chaos. After a few seconds, I hear Mr. Frodo splashing along behind me. All of us were now together, fighting in the mud.
'So be it,' I think. 'We are the Fellowship of the Ring' (Fellowship music, da da ddda. okay, I'm done. Please R/R)