From now on, new chapters will be posted Saturday afternoons. It just makes more sense schedule wise.

Disclaimer: Using several experiments involving rats, scientists have linked this story to cancer.

Aragorn took point as the group moved along. Gandalf walked behind him to back him up with the magics if they ran into anything, and Gimli came behind them. The hobbits stayed mostly clumped together with Bill near them, about fifteen yards back, generally making crude jokes, and playing obnoxious road trip games. Legolas held back a little bit farther because he didn't really know what the hell was going on. He just hoped this Mordor place wasn't too far away, and he could collect his pay and leave soon. Boromir walked behind him, ready to defend the group if something came at them from behind.

They traveled as such for weeks, taking breaks only when they came across bars, brothels, or interesting things like, say, "The World's Largest Ball of Twine" or "Larry's Gator Farm."

At night they'd pick out small, secluded clearings to set up the tents that Aragorn had "borrowed" from Rivendell. There they would lie about the size of fishes they had caught earlier on in their lives and tell ghost stories. Gandalf put a ban on the ghost stories after a while, though, after he found out it gave Frodo nightmares.After all, no one wanted the little bitch crawling into their sleeping bag in the middle of the night. That was just creepy, way creepier than any ghost story, and nowhere near as wholesome.

Hell, who are we kidding, it wasn't wholesome at all, especially not when Frodo got pleasant dreams and started humping your leg like a dog.

Eventually, though, they came to a crossroads and were forced to make a decision.

Gimli felt that they should go through the mountains by way of Moria, where, as he said, the "red dwarves" would give them "red meat and red wine."

Gandalf sincerely hoped that Gimli meant that the dwarves were somehow Communist, because if he meant it the other way, he was obviously some sort of dwarf abomination.Then he realized that Gimli had been cursed with a bad Russian bootleg dub, and cured him of it, after which he started to make some more sense.

Gimli still argued that they should go through Moria, because it was "kickass" and his relatives were "really cool and stuff."

Gandalf didn't care enough to try to do anything about Gimli's OOC Gen X-er talk, but he was of the opinion that they should go over Caradhras, since everybody knew that dwarves were stinky, and besides, he thought there were horrible monsters in Moria.

The hobbits didn't really give a crap about the whole thing, since the conversation took place during afternoon chow. Mouths that were talking were mouths that were not eating, so the hobbits were able to eat more while everyone else yapped.

Aragorn was in favor of going over the mountain, since he wasn't really the indoor type. Besides, everyone knew that dwarves were stinky, and Aragorn was, in fact, fairly hypocritical on that subject. He was not as disgusting as he had been, but the few weeks in the field had given him enough of a layer of dirt to look cool without actually being gross.

Legolas didn't really care about any of it. He was cranky from withdrawal, since they hadn't visited a bar in days, and at home he had always been accustomed to getting drunk off his ass at least five nights a week. Having an immortal elven liver did have its perks.

Boromir wanted to go through Moria, because he liked dwarves. They were shorter than him, and he had self esteem issues.

In the end, though, they decided to put the question to Frodo, since he was supposedly their leader. Frodo decided to go along with Aragorn, since Aragorn and Gandalf seemed to be the only people present who had any clue as to what the hell they were doing, and he was pretty sure that without their help, he would be up shit creek without a paddle, so better not to make them pissy.

And so, the Fellowship began the arduous trek up Caradhras, known as Bitchy Bitch the Mountain to men.

A few days later, while most of the Fellowship was sitting on their asses not doing anything (they tended to do this from time to time), Boromir was teaching the hobbits how to use the weapons that Aragorn had stolen from Rivendell's armory for them. Boromir didn't do this so much because he thought it would be good for the hobbits. The whole event was really more about him swinging his sword around and trying to look cool. After a half hour of training, the hobbits jumped him when he wasn't paying attention and thoroughly kicked his ass, andlaughed at his pain.

"What the hell is that?!" yelled Legolas, who had been sitting toward the side of the camp. He pointed skyward, to a large mass of somethings moving quickly in their direction. Frodo looked up, and gave a cry of dismay—those were horny bisexual winged monkeys!

On they came, looking very horny and clutching boxes of Trojan condoms marked "Hobbit's Pleasure."

"This story is getting unbearably gay," said Spoofmaster.

"Well, I'm the one who has to come up with the jokes," complained MysticButtCrystal. "It's not my fault I'm totally immature! Besides, it's just a little bit here and there."

Spoofmaster sighed, and looked over at Mort, who was staring into space with wide, blank eyes and gripping the beans he had been given so tightly that they were turning to mush. Celestina, also on the couch, looked at him worriedly.

"I'm beginning to wonder if Mort's going to pull out of it," said Spoofmaster. "I think we fucked him up pretty bad."

"You fucked him up pretty bad," corrected MysticButtCrystal. "You should probably just give him his corn back before he buries you in the yard."

"Well, you seem to be fucking the story up pretty bad!" reprimanded Spoofmaster. "What with 'Hobbit's Pleasure!'" She sneered at him, showing her displeasure.

"Well, fine, then," said MysticButtCrystal. "If you think those jokes were in bad taste, just wait until the next ones! I'll show you!"

Spoofmaster shook her head, and retrieved the steamin' bowl from under the sink. She handed it back to Mort, who began scarfingthe corn down with a sort of desperation.

"You put it under the sink with all those chemicals?!" asked MysticButtCrystal incredulously. "What kind of monster are you?!"

"Eh, he doesn't mind," said Spoofmaster.

The group didn't get away fast enough, and the monkeys descended on them and made them their bitches, over, and over, and over. There must have been five hundred monkeys there, and every single one had his way with each member of the Fellowship at least three times, especially Bill the pony. Horny monkeys always have a thing for ponies. They're like twelve-year-old girls in that way. Frodo squealed with pleasure. They and the monkeys spent a quiet day making love and enjoying each others' company.

When they were done, the monkeys carried them off to Mordor, where they were butt-raped by all the monkeys again, then all the orcs, and then the monkeys again. And then by the monkeys one more time. Damn, those sure were horny monkeys!

Then they were executed, and their bodies were raped by the orcs. Then by the monkeys. Then by Sauron, who got his Bra back and used its powers to transport all the denizens of Middle Earth to Mordor, and he and his orcs and monkeys butt-raped them until the end of time.

THE END?

Oh, yes, and the Comical Donkey pooped. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

"Shit," said Spoofmaster. "You weren't kidding."

"Damn straight I wasn't," bragged MysticButtCrystal. "That's what you get for bitching."

"That was really, really gay," said Spoofmaster numbly. "Do you have something you're trying to tell me?"

"Yes," said MysticButtCrystal. "My brows were as high as they go before that little ordeal, so just quit your whining, and if I put in another bad joke, just try to bite your tongue, unless it was something really freaking bad."

Celestina scooted away from Mort, since bits of corn were flying everywhere.

Before the monkeys could see them, the Fellowship members dove under various rocks and shrubs, and were well hidden from the monkeys, because the monkeys were so horny that they couldn't think straight enough to look for them with any competence. Unfortunately for the Comical Donkey, he was in plain view at the time and was carried off in their swarm.

When the monkeys had gone and were out of sight, the Fellowship crawled out of their hiding places, scratched and with their hair full of twigs. Actually, only Pippin had his hair full of twigs. He had put them there. Legolas had crawled straight into a patch of poison ivy when he hid, and was very unhappy.

"Shit, we just narrowly avoided what would have been the most horrific sexual experiences of our lives!" exclaimed Aragorn. "Who knows how many times...."

"Well, we should press on, and try to get the rest of the way up Caradhras by nightfall," said Gandalf. Everyone brushed themselves off and followed him as he began up the mountain once more. Legolas was very itchy, and he hoped he would be getting paid a lot for this.

The wind whistled through the gap between Caradhras and the neighboring mountain. Snow and driving rain pelted down on the Fellowship.

"There is a fell voice on the wind!" cried Legolas.

"What the hell is a 'fell voice'?!" demanded Gimli, hitting Legolas in the shin with the handle of his axe.

"Ohhhh..." said Legolas, going down. He wondered why these people had hired an elf when they didn't want anything to do with him.

Frodo shivered and looked up at the others, snot icicles hanging out his nose.

"This sucks," said Aragorn. "I think we're going to have to go to that stinky dwarf place after all."

Gandalf sighed and turned dramatically to Frodo, who had suddenly succumbed to hypothermia and was lying on the ground.

"Oh, shit!" said Gandalf. "That can't be good!"

"Oh no, however will we get him down the mountain?" asked Aragorn, tightening his bootlaces. Sam threw an empty beer bottle at him, effectively taking Aragorn's mind off of his old fashioned method of transporting Frodo.

Gandalf shook his head, and picked up Frodo, who wasn't as awkward to carry as you'd think, what with having frozen solid. He signaled for the rest of the group to follow him, and they began the trek back down.

"Wow, I'm sure glad the trip back down was mind numbingly boring," commented Pippin to Merry.

"Why's that?" asked Merry.

"Well, because it made the authors skip it, so we didn't have to deal with it," explained Pippin. "If it had been Tolkien instead of these two, he probably would've devoted three chapters to it, then another five to a mealtime he would have written in."

Merry just shook his head. His idiot cousin was obviously high again.

Frodo had thawed out, and was sniffling to himself about being so cold. Everyone else except Sam ignored him and stood around, staring at the gate into Moria.

Sam was standing a distance away, talking to Bill the pony.

"I know we're not supposed to leave you, Bill," said Sam tearfully, pulling off the pony's pack and halter. "But I don't think it's good to take you in a mine. You might break your leg or something."

With a last sigh, Sam turned Bill loose.

"Ahahahahaha'll mihihiss yoou," said Bill mournfully.

Actually, Bill didn't say anything. It was just that damn stagehand with the peanut butter again.

"How can you have stagehands?!" complained Celestina. "This is a written fanfiction!"

MysticButtCrystal shot her in the face with a Super Soaker.

"Hey, Legolas, why don't you read this for us?" asked Gimli innocently, looking up at the Elvish words written on the gate. "You're an elf."

"Ohhh..." worried Legolas, but he stepped up to try his best at it. "Uhmmm...Spkae? Rifend...."

"Aww, damnit!" yelled Gimli. "They gave us a defective elf!"

Legolas clobbered Gimli with his bow, knocking him unconscious, and went off to sulk.

"It says 'Speak, friend, and you may enter," said Gandalf. He then proceeded to shout various things at it, which did absolutely nothing.

They all took turns screaming at the door, except for Frodo, who was whining, Gimli, who was unconscious, and Legolas, who didn't want to talk to anyone, let alone some smartass door.

Finally, it was Pippin's turn, and he strode confidently to the door.

"Open sesame!" he cried, raising his arms dramatically, as the door creaked open in a somber and impressive way. The Fellowship trudged in, Frodo still sniffling, Legolas still sulking, and Gimli being dragged by Boromir.

"What sense does that make?!" demanded Merry, walking close to Pippin.

"This is just that kind of fanfic," explained Pippin perfectly reasonably. Merry was more sure than ever that Pippin would have to be put in a home. Sensing this, Pippin became more sure than ever that he would have to win the video game championship in Los Angeles to prove he didn't need to be put in a home. Cali-FORN-ia!

Just then, they realized that they were in a large room surrounded by...SKELETONS OH NO!! And the skeletons had...oh, it was terrible....

SKULLS!!!!!!! Skulls of unquestionable skullness, skulls that had risen beyond being the mere heads of dead smelly dwarves and taken on a special skullish sheen and beauty, the like of which none of the Fellowship had ever seen in their travels. They glistened skullfully and were a sight to behold for even the most jaded of travelers. Their skullish powers of terror shook the Fellowship to the core, and they turned to dash back out the door.

BUT OH NO!! There was an octopus!

"Octopus! Oh, shit, it has tentacles!" yelled Pippin.

"So?" asked Boromir.

"Haven't you ever seen a Japanese cartoon?!" cried Pippin. "Tentacles are bad news!"

Merry had had enough, and pushed Pippin into the octopus lake. The octopus promptly picked him up and began wrapping its tentacles around him.

"Noooooooo!" yelled Pippin.

"Wait..." said Gandalf thoughtfully. "How can there be an octopus? That's a freshwater lake, and it's too small to support the sheer quantity of fish it would need to eat. Additionally, how would there be enough octopi in there to reproduce and maintain the octopus population? Furthermore, how did octopi get in the lake in the first place?"

The octopus was angered at Gandalf's logic. It knew better than anybody that it had no business existing. It threw back their hobbit in disgust, and chased them into the mine.

"Oh no!" bellowed Gimli, who had come to just in time to be chased in by the octopus. "Skulls!"

The skulls laughed gleefully in a skullish way at the weak, skullenly-inferior dwarf. To think they had once been part of something so pointless! Now their skull beauty had been purified by the loss of flesh, and they, the glistening skull-lords would rule the world!