Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.
A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! It's taken SOOOO long to update! I get the feeling that this fic will take a LONG time to get finished. I'm sorry!
~~~~~~~
Legolas decided that in order to protect Middle Earth from screaming teenage girls and their fictional, perfected images (that is, fangirls and Sues), he had to start out by tracking them all down. And to do that, he had to find out how many everyone had.
The problem was that, as Pippin had said, all the fangirls and Mary-Sues seemed to be after him. And since he had no idea just how many were after him, why should anyone else?
And, so far, only Gimli had given him a straight answer. When asked if he had any fangirls, Gimli said "No. Nobody wants to chase down small, bearded comedians with axes."
Sighing, Legolas decided to check with Aragorn. He stepped into the hall and was hit in the midsection by a curly head, attached to Merry's body.
"YOU DIE NOW, HUM...oh, you're an elf. Never mind," said Merry.
Merry took off again at full speed just as Pippin trotted up. He jerked his thumb in the direction of his cousin and explained, saying "He's the terminator."
~*~
When Legolas has come to visit Gimli, the dwarf had been in the process of adding up all the trade that had been done with other countries since...well, day one. Since that was still today, not too much trade had happened yet.
After Legolas left, Gimli was left pondering how he could help his friend. It took him a while, but finally he hatched an ingenious plan.
Of course, being a very procedure-loving dwarf, Gimli had to first plan out his idea. He needed lists, diagrams, and outlines! He needed several hours alone to figure everything out! He couldn't even mention it to anyone else before then.
~*~
As it turned out, very few of the directors were quite sure what their jobs were supposed to include. They'd just started today, and many of their jobs were not quite possible. At least, not anymore. Finally, Frodo decided to call an emergency meeting.
For the second time that day, the races of Middle Earth congregated in the board room. Well, most of them. Merry, Gimli, and Gandalf were absent, and Pippin wandered in late.
"Gentlemen, we have a problem," Frodo began. "For many of us...well, most of us...our jobs are unclear or currently impossible." He glanced down at Gandalf's list of everyone's jobs and began pointing out problems.
"For example, I am the director of ring bearing. But there are no longer any rings in need of bearing. Sam is charged with hunting Gollum, but Gollum is now dead. Pippin...well, I'm sure you're fine. But Merry, who has apparently decided not to show up, is in charge of Ringwraith termination. As we all know, there are no longer any Ringwraiths..."
"No, Merry's fine," Pippin said suddenly. "He re-defined his job. Now Merry is the terminator."
"Of what?" Sam asked. Pippin shrugged.
"Well, the point is that we can't do our jobs if the things they involve don't exist," Frodo continued loudly.
Sam thought. "Well, Mr. Frodo, I suppose the company slogan doesn't quite fit either." They all glanced at their stationary with "Middle Earth Inc: Protecting you from giant flaming eyes everywhere" emblazoned at the top.
"You see, we can't protect people from giant flaming eyes if there aren't any giant flaming eyes left," Sam explained.
The board of directors fell silent. Of course, Sam was right, which meant the entire company was headed on a collision course. Middle Earth Inc. couldn't accomplish anything if its entire objective was not even possible.
~*~
As the sun set on the lone skyscraper, turning its many glass windows a blinding shade of gold, Gimli finally set down his pen. It's perfect, he thought, wiping his brow.
~~~~~~~
A/N: You know what's funny? Whenever I spell-check my stories, the computer tries to change Gimli's name to "Gimlet." Ten extra points to whoever can tell me what a gimlet is.