Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant themeparks. I do own a slightly used husband, and a few teenaged children who are paper-trained. Perhaps we can make a trade?
Chapter 7 What's This?
Frodo and Sam sat across from each other at a table in the employee break room. The first half of their first day on the job had not gone very well, and they were both a little irritable. This was their first break of the day, and they were already very tired, and very, very hungry.
On the table between them, on a small paper plate, lay a single, round, chocolate covered cake. The very LAST chocolate cake in the break room. Frodo and Sam looked at each other, then at the cake, then back at each other again.
Suddenly, they both lunged for the cake at the same time. Frodo's hand was just a half-second faster than Sam's and clamped down over the cake just under his.
"Come on, Mister Frodo. Give me the Ring Ding. I gave you the last bit of lembas in Mordor when we were starving to death!" Sam whined.
"The Ring is MINE," Frodo growled, his gigantic blue eyes boring into Sam's eyes.
"I don't want to eat it, Mister Frodo...I just want to hold it for you," Sam pleaded, making the most innocent face he could summon. "Oh, who am I kidding...of course I want to eat it! Give it up, Mister Frodo!"
"No! You don't understand, Sam. The Ring is mine alone! It would destroy you!"
"I hardly think this particular Ring will destroy me, Mister Frodo. It may give me a pimple or two, perhaps, but I think I can manage," Sam sneered, trying to remove Frodo's hand from the Ring Ding.
"No!" Frodo cried, snatching the cake from the table and stuffing it all into his mouth. He sat back from the table with a smug look on his face, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
"Damn it, Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, banging his fist on the table, "You know, I'm getting a wee bit tired of this subservient nonsense now. I've been kissing your hairy Hobbit butt for a long, long time, and it's going to end here and now!" Sam's face reddened with anger as he looked at Frodo insolently chewing. "You know, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have gotten ten feet from the Shire. There I was, fighting off spiders, stabbing Orcs, and rolling about with Golem and where were you? Lying about, feeling sorry for yourself!"
"Go-um bit my fin-er auff," Frodo said through a mouth full of cake.
"Oh, boo-hoo. It wasn't the whole finger anyway, just the tip. You've already got everyone thinking you saved the world all by yourself...what more do you want?"
Frodo swallowed, then sighed, "You're right, Sam. I've behaved badly. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? That's what you always say! Well 'sorry' won't get back that Ring Ding, will it? "
Frodo's enormous blue eyes filled with tears. "I really am sorry, Sam. I just don't know what got into me..."
"Oh, enough with the tears, already! The crying act is wearing a bit thin, Mr. Frodo," Sam said disgustedly.
"Wahhhhhh! Wahhhhh!" Frodo began to wail, tears spurting from his tremendous eyes like geysers.
"Stop already! You'll drown us both!" Sam cried. "Alright, alright, you win - again. Let's get back to work, okay?" Sam shook his head, giving in.
"Thanks, Sam," Frodo smiled, his tears drying instantly.
The two Hobbits walked back onstage into Mordor, where they had been stationed. Mordor actually looked quite a bit like the Mordor back home, except, of course, for being much, much smaller. A rubble strewn path led through the heart of it, surrounded by bubbling pools of a red lava-like substance which, periodically, spurted jets of flame. A black cardboard cutout of a mountain stood in the background, presumably Mt. Doom. It smelled a lot more like the real Mordor than the Hobbits would have liked - a combination of wet garbage and brimstone.
Frodo and Sam took their places next to a huge rock near one of the lava pools, trying very hard not to trip on the rubble with their huge plastic feet.
"I still do not understand why we have to work here, of all places," Frodo moaned, holding his nose. "They have a Shire...why couldn't we be working there?"
"I really don't know, Mr. Frodo. I DO know that I'll not get this stench from my nostrils for a fortnight, at the least! Urgh...smells like burning warg hair."
"Precioussssss."
Frodo and Sam forgot all about the awful smell, and looked at each other in fright.
"Noooo, it couldn't possibly be...he fell into the fires of Mt. Doom!" Frodo cried, grasping Sam's lapels and shaking him fiercely.
"Precioussssss."
Frodo and Sam grasped each other in a death hold, clinging for dear life as someone approached in the smoky gloom.
A little, withered old lady walked up to them, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Aren't you just PRECIOUS! Why, I could eat you both up! Let me pinch those sweet cheeks!" She grabbed Frodo and Sam by the cheeks with her thumb and forefingers, swinging their heads back and forth. "Why you are both just the cutest things I've ever seen! I didn't know they let children work in the park!" She finally let go and continued on her way.
Rubbing their cheeks, Frodo and Sam looked bewilderedly at the old woman's back as she made her way out of Mordor.
"I'd really almost rather have had it been Golem," Frodo said.
Sam simply nodded in agreement.
Chapter 7 What's This?
Frodo and Sam sat across from each other at a table in the employee break room. The first half of their first day on the job had not gone very well, and they were both a little irritable. This was their first break of the day, and they were already very tired, and very, very hungry.
On the table between them, on a small paper plate, lay a single, round, chocolate covered cake. The very LAST chocolate cake in the break room. Frodo and Sam looked at each other, then at the cake, then back at each other again.
Suddenly, they both lunged for the cake at the same time. Frodo's hand was just a half-second faster than Sam's and clamped down over the cake just under his.
"Come on, Mister Frodo. Give me the Ring Ding. I gave you the last bit of lembas in Mordor when we were starving to death!" Sam whined.
"The Ring is MINE," Frodo growled, his gigantic blue eyes boring into Sam's eyes.
"I don't want to eat it, Mister Frodo...I just want to hold it for you," Sam pleaded, making the most innocent face he could summon. "Oh, who am I kidding...of course I want to eat it! Give it up, Mister Frodo!"
"No! You don't understand, Sam. The Ring is mine alone! It would destroy you!"
"I hardly think this particular Ring will destroy me, Mister Frodo. It may give me a pimple or two, perhaps, but I think I can manage," Sam sneered, trying to remove Frodo's hand from the Ring Ding.
"No!" Frodo cried, snatching the cake from the table and stuffing it all into his mouth. He sat back from the table with a smug look on his face, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
"Damn it, Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, banging his fist on the table, "You know, I'm getting a wee bit tired of this subservient nonsense now. I've been kissing your hairy Hobbit butt for a long, long time, and it's going to end here and now!" Sam's face reddened with anger as he looked at Frodo insolently chewing. "You know, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't have gotten ten feet from the Shire. There I was, fighting off spiders, stabbing Orcs, and rolling about with Golem and where were you? Lying about, feeling sorry for yourself!"
"Go-um bit my fin-er auff," Frodo said through a mouth full of cake.
"Oh, boo-hoo. It wasn't the whole finger anyway, just the tip. You've already got everyone thinking you saved the world all by yourself...what more do you want?"
Frodo swallowed, then sighed, "You're right, Sam. I've behaved badly. I'm so sorry."
"Sorry? That's what you always say! Well 'sorry' won't get back that Ring Ding, will it? "
Frodo's enormous blue eyes filled with tears. "I really am sorry, Sam. I just don't know what got into me..."
"Oh, enough with the tears, already! The crying act is wearing a bit thin, Mr. Frodo," Sam said disgustedly.
"Wahhhhhh! Wahhhhh!" Frodo began to wail, tears spurting from his tremendous eyes like geysers.
"Stop already! You'll drown us both!" Sam cried. "Alright, alright, you win - again. Let's get back to work, okay?" Sam shook his head, giving in.
"Thanks, Sam," Frodo smiled, his tears drying instantly.
The two Hobbits walked back onstage into Mordor, where they had been stationed. Mordor actually looked quite a bit like the Mordor back home, except, of course, for being much, much smaller. A rubble strewn path led through the heart of it, surrounded by bubbling pools of a red lava-like substance which, periodically, spurted jets of flame. A black cardboard cutout of a mountain stood in the background, presumably Mt. Doom. It smelled a lot more like the real Mordor than the Hobbits would have liked - a combination of wet garbage and brimstone.
Frodo and Sam took their places next to a huge rock near one of the lava pools, trying very hard not to trip on the rubble with their huge plastic feet.
"I still do not understand why we have to work here, of all places," Frodo moaned, holding his nose. "They have a Shire...why couldn't we be working there?"
"I really don't know, Mr. Frodo. I DO know that I'll not get this stench from my nostrils for a fortnight, at the least! Urgh...smells like burning warg hair."
"Precioussssss."
Frodo and Sam forgot all about the awful smell, and looked at each other in fright.
"Noooo, it couldn't possibly be...he fell into the fires of Mt. Doom!" Frodo cried, grasping Sam's lapels and shaking him fiercely.
"Precioussssss."
Frodo and Sam grasped each other in a death hold, clinging for dear life as someone approached in the smoky gloom.
A little, withered old lady walked up to them, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Aren't you just PRECIOUS! Why, I could eat you both up! Let me pinch those sweet cheeks!" She grabbed Frodo and Sam by the cheeks with her thumb and forefingers, swinging their heads back and forth. "Why you are both just the cutest things I've ever seen! I didn't know they let children work in the park!" She finally let go and continued on her way.
Rubbing their cheeks, Frodo and Sam looked bewilderedly at the old woman's back as she made her way out of Mordor.
"I'd really almost rather have had it been Golem," Frodo said.
Sam simply nodded in agreement.