Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur sat in the back corner of The Prancing Pony, staring out broodingly with her deep, penetrating emerald eyes at the rest of the customers. Her long, flowing auburn hair was covered by a crude hood on a wet cloak, but she somehow managed to look alluring and aloof. And alluring. Very, very alluring.

She sighed dramatically, and batted her lush eyelashes as she sipped daintily from the elegant wine glass she held. The Prancing Pony didn't have such glasses, so she must have brought it with her or something.

She watched as four bedraggled hobbits wandered into the inn and sat down at a table. Using her psychotically perfect observational skills, she noted that a man in a corner was watching them. He, however, did not notice her, because she was so damn good at blending in, despite her alluringness and out of place drinking vessel.

At last, Aragorn looked over and saw her, his legendary Ranger powers having finally kicked in. He felt a strange attraction to this mysterious woman with her delicate and aloof ways.

Her teal eyes flashed under her hood, blinding several people with their strobe light-like burst of illumination. Aragorn was very turned on by this, and decided to approach and use his best pickup line on her.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, slicking back his filthy, matted hair. The lice leapt away at his touch, vowing to return later.

"Did what hurt?" she inquired, distracting him with her full ruby red lips. He stared, and hardly paid attention to what he said next.

"When your boobs fell from Heaven," he drooled. "Oh...wait. Crap."

Any idiotcan probably guess what he had been staring at.

Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur promptly grabbed him by his filthy hair and grubby tunic and threw him through the nearest window. Outside, a donkey investigated him comically.

"Holy shit, lady!" yelled Merry.

Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur took this as him saying that he wanted to do the nasty with her, so she threw him out another window. The donkey wandered over and comically sat on his head.

"Hurhurhurhur," commented Pippin. "That was cool." He took another long drag on his bong.

Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur grabbed him and threw him at the bar, where he smashed into the various kegs and bottles. Liquor splashed down all around him.

"Hurhurhurhurhurhurhurhur," he commented, wringing his shirt out into his mouth. "That was cool."

"Who else wants some?!" demanded Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur, since she had just become a tomboy Sue.

"This bitch is crazy, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, as he and Frodo edged away from her. She immediately snatched them both up. Meanwhile, the comical donkey from outside had somehow gotten inside. She discarded of Sam by throwing him up into the rafters, and prepared to shove Frodo up the donkey's ass.

Just then, MysticButtCrystal and Spoofmaster sat down at their computer with the intention of starting chapter four of Lord of the Undergarments, and were thereby transported into the story.

"What the hell?!" exclaimed Spoofmaster, nearly speechless at the words that had magically come to be on the monitor.

MysticButtCrystal was somewhat quicker in his actions.

"You!" he shouted, pointing at Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathur, "Put down that hobbit! And you!" he whirled on the Comical Donkey. "Stop being so damn comical!"

The Comical Donkey looked slightly depressed.

"Yeah, that's right," said MysticButtCrystal. "Your existence is hollow, you fraud. You're a fraud. You're nothing! And stop holding your ass like you're expecting a hobbit! It's not happening!"

"Who would do this?!" asked Spoofmaster, poking around the room until she spotted a curtain made out of a scarlet fabric and lined with fuchsia. "Aha!"

"What the hell is fuchsia?" asked MysticButtCrystal. "You chicks have way too many colors."

"Never mind that now," said Spoofmaster dismissively.

"Seriously, though," complained MysticButtCrystal. "The curtain is dark red with purplish pink trim."

"No, it's not. If it were someone else behind it, it would be, but..." Spoofmaster yanked it aside, "It's Celestina Windbreaker!"

"The villain from Mary Sue Mockfest 2003?" asked MysticButtCrystal.

"But of course," said Celestina, stepping out from her hiding place, clothed in a jarring dress of canary yellow and neon green. "I was just making your story better."

"No, you were making it suck," said Spoofmaster.

"Nonsense!" said Celestina. "Every story needs a good romance!"

"Ugh, that's it," growled MysticButtCrystal. "Get out of our fucking story!"

He chucked a beer bottle at her head, but she dodged it.

"Oh, you will regret that," she hissed. "How would you like to be a Sue in a slasheriffic Jack Sparrow lust story? It's not what I normally do, but I'm sure it can be arranged!" She laughed maniacally, much to everyone's disgust.

"Oh, you sick bitch!" yelled MysticButtCrystal.

"Sic her, Mort!" cried Spoofmaster.

"SHOOOTEERRR!" yelled Mort, who had snuck up behind Celestina while this was going on. He then smashed her over the head with a shovel, knocking her out.

"Now go tie her to your couch and guard her so she doesn't cause any more trouble," commanded Spoofmaster. Mort grumbled, but duct taped Celestina to one of the arms of his couch and sat down on the other end.

In the absence of Celestina's power, Arenelifinolenmothigolianagaluwenathurreverted into Winefred the pimply fangirl and fled, crying.

"That's right, you go away now," said MysticButtCrystal. "You...freaky...freak person!"

And with that, the two authors went back out of the immediate story.

The characters assembled somewhat dazedly in the inn.

"Damn, it's too bad," sighed Aragorn. "That chick was hot."

The hobbits shied away from his foul stench.

"Hey, what's that on your head?!" Aragorn suddenly asked, staring at the Bra on Frodo's head in bewilderment. "That better not be what I think it is!"

"Uhhhh..." said Frodo. "What do you think it is?"

"Well, it's mine now," said Aragorn, taking it away. "Mmmmm, silky," he muttered all horny-like. "I have a sudden craving for...cake icing!"

"It's eeeeevil!" cried Frodo. "It's going to possess you and turn you into a sicko-loser-cross-dressing-guy! Then Sauron will send his winged monkeys to ram you up the ass!"

"Holy shit, this is that Bra?! Take it!" Aragorn shoved it back into Frodo's hands. "But...why were you wearing it on your head?"

"Gandalf told me to."

"And that's why you should never trust a man who wears a corset,"stated Aragorn matter-of-factly. "Now, hide it away in one of your pockets. Saaaayy...I'm a great hero and stuff. Maybe I should join you on your quest. It would be cool! Besides, I have these buddies in Rivendell, and we can mooch off them for a while!"

"Well, okay," said Frodo. "But you can't come too close to us, because you smell really bad."

"Hey," said Aragorn rather urgently, "Have you seen any big black horsemen of doom?"

"Uhm...yeah," said Merry, since he hadn't had a line in a while.

"I kicked him in the nuts," said Sam proudly.

"This is bad," said Aragorn. "They'll be here tonight. Quickly, we must rent a room and then go stay somewhere else."

"Hey, I have an idea," said Pippin.

The Nazgul crept silently into the room they knew the hobbits to be staying in. They glided soundlessly across the floor, each taking up a position next to one of the beds, glaring down at the innocent little lumps under the covers. The Witch King signaled his three droogs, and they all raised their swords high, and struck downwards as hard as they could.

BOOM!!!!

The pressure-sensitive bombs under the mattresses all went off at once, demolishing the Prancing Pony and everything within three blocks. The hobbits looked on from the window of their room on the other side of town to see a giant mushroom cloud.

"Did you have to use that much explosives?" asked Aragorn from his own little private corner.

"No," said Pippin.

"Why, then?" asked Sam.

"Because it's cool. Besides, it would have felt like a waste not to use all of what we got from robbing the armory," Pippin shrugged. "Anyway, the stuff's heavy, and if I hadn't've used it all, you guys probably would've made me carry it."

"You blew up a fourth of the city Pippin!" accused Merry. "You've probably killed a few hundred people! That was really cool."

Weathertop wasn't exactly near to Bree, but nothing really interesting happened on the way. Basically they just walked along, telling crude stories and making cruder jokes. Aragorn made fun of Pippin when he got the munchies, and Frodo got stuck in a drainage pipe, but that was really it. So, we skip ahead, to when Aragorn saw Weathertop and decided they should spend the night there.

"Look," said Aragorn. "There's Weathertop. We should spend the night there!"

"...Why?" asked Frodo.

"It's a really cool setting," snapped Aragorn.

"Why don't we stay there?!" demanded Pippin, pointing to a nearby inn.

"You know how inns have innkeepers?" asked Aragorn. "Well, this one kind of had a wife, and I kind of slept with her. He also kind of had a prize pig, and I kind of slept with her too and then I kind of ran off with her."

"Was it a threesome?" asked Pippin, quite interested.

"Not at first," admitted Aragorn. "The pig joined in later."

"Where's the pig now, then?" asked Frodo, not believing any of this.

"Well, one night during the winter, it got really cold, so I had to slit her open and sleep inside her," explained Aragorn.

"She was that loose?" asked Pippin.

Frodo slapped Pippin, and Sam kicked Aragorn in the shin.

And with those disgusting developments, our heroes started climbing Weathertop, and the chapter ended due to adverse conditions.