A/N- Wow... in my last mass update, this is the only fic that got any reviews. Odd... I'd like to remind the reader that I wrote this story during school and before the Oscars had been awarded (ELEVEN! WE WIN I SAY!) But the Golden Globes had already been passed out. Also, I have nothing but respect for Peter Jackson... I think he's the greatest thing ever for reintroducing me to the LOTR stories, so keep that in mind while you watch me randomly torture him.

Tinkerbell033- I love Edward Scissorhands! He's my homeslice (get it? Scissors... slice... yeah, I know, corny) The guy with the sideburns is a crazed and obsessive police inspector known as Javert.

I'm From Tookland- I'm sorry. And I have apologized officially in my author's note.

Alteng- No reason. They just do... like in Shakespeare's story. Ooh... Jack meets Edward... that amuses me.

Western Master 3- So I hear. -ponders-

The Hobbit Lass- Yes, Pippin is solely my homefry. Sam's my homeskillet... and after officially proclaiming this, I rewatched FOTR and noticed Sam beating people up with a skillet... odd, yes?

"Pete! Just let me tell the story my own way!" insisted the booming voice from the sky.

Peter Jackson blinked back tears. "Best Director... I was Best Director... My beautiful works... Eleven Oscar nominations... Four Golden Globes... Best Drama... Best Director..."

"Oops... Pete? Peter Jackson? Are you okay?" asked the booming voice from the sky.

"Best Director..."

"I'm gonna get killed for this," groaned the booming voice from the sky.

Peter Jackson was curled up in a ball on the floor. "Eleven Oscar nominations..."

"Pete?" asked the genuinely worried booming voice from the sky.

"Alright, I'll finish it!" Pippin shouted.

He was suddenly in the room with the computer.

"Hey... homefry... how'd you get past my security guards?" the longhaired girl asked.

"They were playing 'Go Fish.'"

"Okay, so they're fired..."

Suddenly Pippin pushed the girl out of her chair and into the attic. He locked the door.

"Curse you, Homefry!" the girl shouted. "Let me out!"

"Now... how do you get this computer to work?" Pippin wondered aloud. "I'll finish the story if she won't."

Montparnasse, the infamous robber and murderer, approached the Authoress.

"Homeboy? I need out of here. Pip's trying to take over my fanfic!"

Montparnasse picked the lock on the attic door, which sprang open.

"Parnasse!" the Authoress cried gleefully. "You've been promoted to Beloved and Favorite Character from Les Mis!"

Montparnasse tipped his smashed top hat and sauntered off.

The Authoress stormed into the computer room. Pippin finally began to tap random keys.

The Authoress began to dance ballet.

"NNNOOOOO! Stop, Pippin! I'll finish the fic, I promise!"

Bernard looked at the sky of Rivendell, which had turned a deep maroon. "Erin?"

Suddenly Pippin's face appeared in the sky. "I'm takin' over this story! All of you are at my command!"

Everyone in Rivendell began to tango.

But Bernard, being considered reality by the Authoress's demented mind, was not under Pippin's control. He dissolved into a shower sexy sparks.

A moment later Bernard had grabbed Pippin and stuffed him into a sack, which he tied firmly shut.

Everyone stopped dancing.

"You saved me!" the Authoress cried, throwing her arms around him.

Bernard looked uncomfortable and patted her on the head.

"Oh... can you check on Peter Jackson?"

"Sure, if you let go of me."

"Right," the Authoress said, quickly stepping back. "Sorry."

Bernard found Peter Jackson curled into a ball on the floor, muttering to himself. The elf produced a straightjacket from the sexy bag he always wore.

A moment later he and the straightjacketed Best Director were in the room.

"That can't be good," the Authoress said.