Spoofmaster and MysticButtCrystal drifted through a flooded tomb in a brightly colored raft. Stiff cobras leaned listlessly against the edges of the pots they should have been swaying around in, and most of the lights were turned off. They passed a clearing that was supposed to be filled with treasure and a whining Arab warning them of their impending doom, but was instead empty and unlit. A giant statue, who usually waved a wand and made things vibrate cheerfully, sat still, mumbling sounds issuing from his tightly closed lips. An empty casket lit up and made mummy noises at them. The crocodile that normally lay at the water's edge, pennies gleaming enthusiastically from within its mouth, stood propped up against the wall like an odd canoe in storage.
"Where the hell are all the animatronic monsters?" asked MysticButtCrystal.
"I don't know, but at least we're on to the dreaded lava pits," sighed Spoofmaster as the raft plunged down a red-lit spiraling slide, noticeably devoid of the sound effects and fountains that usually made it look like a lava pit. The raft exited the dreaded lava pits, went down a brief slide outdoors, and beached itself in the exit pool. "Well, at least it wasn't as bad as the dinosaur ride."
We see the dinosaur ride, with the sharp-toothed apatasaurus hanging half out of the wall supported by pulleys with various streamers advising people to use "CAUTION" hanging off his face as he vibrated gently, the t-rex standing motionless with tennis balls, empty soda cans, and used gum in his mouth, and the other dinosaur lying in the corner in pieces, surrounded by various toolboxes and the remains of a technician's lunch.
"What the hell, did they just decide that this year all their rides should look like crap?" wondered MysticButtCrystal. "Let's just go home and write that damn Lord of the Crap crap."
The Fellowship were sleeping in a tree, where they had been put after Galadriel and Celeborn had decided that they should just let them spend the night and leave. Actually, Celeborn came up with that idea. Galadriel just screamed incoherently about unrelated subjects.
Frodo lay awake, long after Legolas ceased his sniffling and began to snore. Frodo was pretty sure that normal elves didn't snore, but since when was Legolas a normal elf?
Frodo snuck down out of the tree, seeking water, a place to pee, and a brief melodramatic scene that would focus solely on him. He managed to climb halfway down before falling, and suffered only heavy bruising.
Galadriel stood in a clearing next to a mirror covered in water. She looked up when Frodo stumbled out from between the trees, and spoke to him.
"Hey, little short guy!" she greeted him. "Wanna look in a mirror? It's all scary! Wooooo!"
"Uhmm, I'd rather not," replied Frodo.
"Aw, but it would make Galadriel happy!" insisted Galadriel. "Look!"
She grabbed his head and forced his face practically into the water.
The scene he saw was a ghastly one. The Shire was invaded by orcs, and the hobbits rounded up. The more attractive ones were packaged and sold in porn shops as sex toys, and the rest were sent to toil in the fields and factories, where they were forced to tighten bolts quickly and were subjected to humiliating eating machines, never really producing anything, but keeping up the toiling quotas, which must be met in order to avoid undue cheerfulness and hope. Frodo gasped and pulled away, falling to the ground.
"Galadriel sees it too," sighed Galadriel.
"You see the enslavement of my race?" asked Frodo.
"Umm, no," said Galadriel. "Galadriel sees herself in a Japanese cartoon. Weird, huh?"
"Uh huh...." said Frodo, backing away. "I'll just go back to my tree now."
The next day, Galadriel, Celeborn, and Haldir and his border patrol saw the Fellowship off down the river. The elves of Lothlorien supplied them with MREs, camouflage ponchos, and some rope, as well as boats. They also gave Legolas a better bow to try to make up for the way they had treated him. Aragorn got some old issues of Playboy, Frodo got a high-powered flashlight that automatically recharged itself when turned off, Boromir an arrow-proof vest, and Gimli a piece of bark, since they didn't really like him enough to give him a real gift. Merry and Pippin got nondescript belts because they were just background characters at this point. Sam received some concentrated super dirt, which he was promised would come into play later, so long as he held on to it.
When they were out on the river and out of sight of Lothlorien, Boromir heaved a sigh of relief, stripped off the arrow-proof vest, and chucked it into the water.
"What?" he asked, when everyone stared at him. "It made me look stupid!"
Most of the others rolled their eyes and looked away.
"And another thing that strikes me as odd," Boromir went on. "How do these MREs work? I mean, you just stick water in, and they burn you! And how can they be so nutritious when they are so small? When I get home, I'll have to order a mentat to figure these things out for me."
"You do that," replied Aragorn. "Minas Tirith could probably do well with a mentat's advice."
"The problem is," continued Boromir after a moment of thought, "If he's so smart, the mentat might become dissatisfied with my ability to rule. Then he'll try to assassinate me and take over my kingdom. And you know how clever a mentat is. He'll kill me with no problem!"
"One can only hope," muttered Aragorn under his breath.
"So," Boromir went on, "I'll have to kill him first! When he arrives in a crate, I can just bludgeon him to death with the crowbar I open the crate with! Problem solved. Now I just need to get home and order a mentat so I can kill him."
Aragorn stopped paddling and turned to stare at Boromir.
"You are a very stupid person," commented Aragorn, and he turned back to his rowing.
The boats drifted between two gigantic statues carved into the mountains. The hobbits and Boromir looked up in awe, and everyone else was bored and unimpressed.
"The World's Largest Ball of Twine was more interesting," sniffed Legolas.
"For once I agree, elf," said Gimli. "It was somewhat bigger, and they had funnel cakes."
"I've seen these before," commented Aragorn. "Honestly, I think my ancestors must have been compensating for something."
"I think they're cool," said Boromir. "It shows how kickass Gondor is."
"Frankly, I think Legolas's culture is more impressive than modern Gondor," grumbled Aragorn.
"Should I take that as a compliment?" wondered Legolas.
"I don't think so," replied Sam.
"Hey, it's that Gollum freak!" cried Merry, pointing at Gollum, who was hiding behind one of the feet of the statue on their right. "Do we have anything to throw at him?"
"I think so," said Sam, pulling out a paper bag from one of the packs. Inside were about a dozen stale donut men. "Try these."
Aragorn did the throwing, since he claimed to be good at throwing stuff. The first few fell short and plopped into the river, dissolving into a depressing sodden mess. However, having gotten the hang of the weight and shape of his ammunition, Aragorn managed to smack Gollum between the eyes with a particularly hard PFC.
"It hurtsises!" screamed Gollum, clawing at his face. He dashed off into the woods, where he built his reputation as a folk hero, wrestling bears and building log cabins.
Sometime later, the Fellowship decided to stop and laze around awhile, as was their custom. It was mostly because Frodo needed to pee, but, unlike the rest of the Fellowship, was too modest to just do it off the side of the boat. Besides, it was evening, and they didn't believe it would be particularly wise to continue on after dark.
Frodo immediately ran up the hill to some ruins in the distance to relieve himself. The rest of the Fellowship settled down for a rest. That is, except for Boromir, who went off after Frodo. Aragorn was tired of dealing with their bullshit, and decided that being rid of both of them, even for only a few minutes, would be nice, so he didn't do anything about it and settled in with one of his Playboys.
Boromir came up on Frodo just as he pulled his pants back up, and stood behind him.
"If you gave me the Bra, I could use it to kill all the orcs, and then everyone would like me and you wouldn't have to carry it around anymore," suggested Boromir.
"If I gave you the Bra, you'd be dancing around eating cake icing within five minutes," said Frodo. "This burden is mine to bear."
"Just give me the damn Bra or I'll kill you," stated Boromir. Frodo pulled the thing out, stared at it for a moment, and put it on.
"Arg, my eyes!" screeched Boromir, looking away. When he looked back, Frodo was gone, and he couldn't really remember why he'd let him out of his sight. Frodo had really only run off and hidden behind a tree ten feet away, but Boromir just yelled a lot and left.
Aragorn heard the yelling and went off to look for Frodo and Boromir, thinking that maybe something bad was happening. He found Frodo huddled behind the tree, clutching the Bra in his hands.
"What the hell's going on?" asked Aragorn. "Where's Boromir?"
"He ran off after trying to steal the Bra," replied Frodo all whiny-like.
"Well, I'm sure he'll turn up," sighed Aragorn. "Let's go back down to the campsite."
Just then, they heard a lot of screaming, slashing, and other sounds that occur when a Fellowship vaguely does battle with orcs. Orcs could be heard stomping up through the forest toward them.
"Run, Frodo," commanded Aragorn. "I'll find you later."
Frodo paused for a moment. "How?"
"How do you expect?" asked Aragorn, annoyed. "Orcs are stupid, and I'm a badass. After I kill them, I'll use my amazing ranger powers to track you down. Now run!"
Frodo ran off, the sounds of Aragorn killing things indistinct behind him because the story was not following Aragorn closely enough to actually tell what was happening to him. He tripped more than a blonde in a horror movie, and finally fell and landed next to Merry and Pippin, who were hiding under a log.
"In here, Frodo!" whispered Merry furiously.
"He's leaving us," said Pippin knowledgably. "He's not very smart, you know."
"Shut up, you crazy person," growled Merry. "Come on, Frodo!"
Frodo, for whatever reason, felt it would be a better idea to go on stumbling through the woods like an idiot, and did so.
"We'd better distract the orcs before they kill him," sighed Pippin. He grabbed Merry's wrist and they dashed out of their hiding place and down the hill, screaming various obscenities and general insults about the orcs' ancestry. Well, that's what Pippin yelled about. Merry's string of curses was more directed toward Pippin for being a moron who would drag someone out into a battle full of orcs.
The orcs, not particularly good at telling one short person apart from another, soon had the two surrounded. Luckily, Boromir showed up and began killing them. The orcs, not Merry and Pippin.
The orcs became somewhat distressed about Boromir's activities, and started fighting back. He still slaughtered them, but had to actually try. He was doing fairly well, until Lurtz the evil stupid retarded asshole Urukhai bastard showed up and began shooting him full of arrows from outside the fray.
"Oh, the irony!" gasped Boromir. "The painful, hideous irony!"
Seeing as Boromir was about to die, Merry and Pippin ran off again, only to be grabbed by some orcs.
"Aw, crap," commented Merry.
Boromir managed to finish off the last of the orcs that weren't evil stupid retarded asshole Urukhai bastards shooting at him from the sidelines, despite having been turned into a pincushion of 45 caliber arrows. Lurtz gave a little snorting sound, came up to within two feet of Boromir, and drew back one last arrow, intending to send it into Boromir's left eye.
Boromir ducked, and the arrow missed due to Lurtz's utter lack of real reflexes and talent. He gripped his sword and straightened up again, sweeping his blade up in an arc that took off Lurtz's left arm. At the same time, Aragorn came up from behind Lurtz, and hacked off his right arm. Lurtz was quite surprised by this development, but kicked Boromir in the face, knocking him back. He then tried to turn to face Aragorn, but Aragorn chopped off his left leg. Lurtz only managed to stay upright with extreme luck, and hopped up and down, bumping into Aragorn and getting blood all over his tunic, as high pressure blood streams shot out from his limb sockets.
"YUCK!" yelled Aragorn, and he swiped off Lurtz's last remaining limb. Boromir, who had gotten up, brought his sword down, skewering Lurtz with it and sinking it up to the hilt in his head. Sadly, all the internal trauma caused by Lurtz's arrows got the better of him, and he collapsed.
"The orcs got Merry and the other one," gasped Boromir, blood bubbling up from his mouth. "You know, the crazy one."
With that, his head sank back to the ground, and he died.
"Damnit!" cried Aragorn. "Just when you were being likable, too!"
Aragorn hefted Boromir's body, which was somewhat awkward with all the arrows sticking out everywhere, and jogged back toward the campsite.
Frodo, who had finally stopped stumbling around when he realized that no one was focusing on him anyway, reached the shore and heaved one of the boats out into the water.
"I'm going with you," said Sam, stepping out from behind a boulder, his pack already strapped to his back.
"Why should I bring you?" asked Frodo, clambering into the boat and trying to shove off with his hands.
"If you don't, you'll have no one to talk to," said Sam. "And no one to carry your stuff. And you'll probably get eaten by wargs in the first five minutes."
"Oh," said Frodo, pausing and thinking it over. "Okay then."
Aragorn came back to the campsite, where he saw Legolas and Gimli, who were surrounded by a number of dead orcs, and both standing with one foot on the same corpse. They were engaged in a heated discussion, each claiming that that particular orc was his kill. Aragorn noticed that there were exactly twenty-three orcs with fatal arrow wounds, and exactly twenty-three with fatal axe wounds. The one they were contesting had had its gut ripped open with an axe and its intestines strewn over the ground. However, it also had the back end of an arrow jutting out of its right ear, and the front coming out the left. Judging by the clotting, Aragorn guessed that it had received both wounds at the same time.
"Have you two seen any of the hobbits?" asked Aragorn.
"No, they all ran off," replied Gimli. While Gimli looked away, Legolas tried furiously to stuff the orc's intestines back into its body to strengthen his position. Mostly he just made a big mess and accidentally stuffed in a large number of pinecones.
"Well, shit," sighed Aragorn. "We'd better look for them."
He propped Boromir's corpse up in a tree so that bears wouldn't get after it.
"Holy crap, Boromir's dead!" gasped Legolas.
"That sucks," said Gimli.
Since all three possessed impressive tracking skills, it didn't take them long to decipher what had happened regarding all of the hobbits. Figuring that Sam and Frodo would continue on alone, they decided to try and rescue Merry and Pippin. After deciding this, they walked back to the campsite and cleaned Boromir up a bit and consigned him to the river in one of the boats. They then packed their things and left.
Boromir's body fell practically on top of Faramir a few hours later, as he had been sitting next to a waterfall and contemplating life. His emotions on the matter were rather mixed.
TO BE CONTINUED. Or not. It depends on if there is demand for it.
MysticButtCrystal and Spoofmaster began packing their things. It had been a good time up at Mort's cabin, but now they had to leave. They packed their things into the back of their warthog.
"But if we put these things in here, how will I stand back here and work the gun?" protested Spoofmaster.
"Why would we need you to?" retorted MysticButtCrystal.
"In case we're attacked by the Covies, stupid."
"I'll just run them over. Besides, there aren't any Covies around here."
"No one thought there were serial killers around here either, and whose house are we leaving now?"
"Just get in the passenger seat."
And off they went, still arguing down the road. Mort, relieved at their absence, quickly called the police. Unfortunately, the police had an outstanding policy regarding Mort, stating that he was to have no interaction with the town.
And so, Mort never got justice for those weeks, when two crazy people had taken over his home and eaten his food. He also lost someone who he had been gaining affection for.
Sometimes he would look up at his picture of Celestina and sigh for the love that could have been, but never was.