Once again, Credit to the Worthy: Thanks to Blue Autumn Sky for the Balrog idea!
Chapter 14 Be Prepared
Gandalf was gingerly climbing down from the high platform of the Shadowfax float, his robes gathered up with his left hand so as not to trip him. Unfortunately, Middle Earth had as yet to discover the importance of underwear, and Gandalf was providing quite a show for the rest of the parade performers.
"Hey, old guy! Will you PLEASE cover up that sagging, wrinkled moon before you blind us all?" someone in the crowd begged.
"It's like a car accident...I don't want to look, but I can't seem to help myself," said one young woman to another. "Is that his...EWWWWW!"
Finally getting to the ground, completely oblivious to the stir he had caused by airing his personal property, Gandalf made his way through the crowd back to the costuming building. He found his locker and, having changed back into his shorts and tee shirt, decided to go back to the park to look for everyone else.
He was halfway to The Shire, when he saw Aragorn, Legolas, Merry, Pippin, and some pink fluffy fellow coming up the path. He didn't recognize Gimli until they were very close.
"Gimli," Gandalf asked, raising an eyebrow, "What on earth happened to you?"
"Don't ask," Gimli muttered.
"It looks funny, but it's quite delicious!" chirped Pippin, trying to suck a piece of candy off of Gimli's hair.
"It melts in your mouth!" chimed Merry, attacking the other side of Gimli's head.
"STOP THAT! Stop trying to lick me head clean...it's undignified!" cried Gimli, swatting the Hobbits away.
Gandalf turned to Aragorn and asked, "have you seen the others?"
"No...we just found Merry and Pippin. I believe Frodo and Sam were stationed in Mordor, but I don't know where they stuck Boromir...Gimli! Stop beating on the Hobbits!" Aragorn yelled, pulling Gimli off of Merry.
"Tell the little furballs to leave my beard alone! They're yanking out hair along with that sticky stuff!"
"You could do with a trim," Aragorn replied, eyeing the shaggy bush that grew from Gimli's chin.
"Oh, so you want to talk about beards, again, Laddie? Perhaps I'll just parade mine around in front of Arwen when we get home, and we'll see fast she goes running back for yours!"
"LEAVE MY BEARD OUT OF THIS!" Aragorn thundered.
"Aragorn," Legolas said, putting his hand on the King's shoulder and distracting him from pummeling Gimli, "Someone's coming."
"What do your Elven eyes see, Legolas?" Aragorn asked.
Legolas made a scornful face, "They're only twenty feet away, Aragorn. I'm sure you can see for yourself."
"Oh."
Looking just ahead, Aragorn saw Boromir walking up the path toward them, carrying Frodo and Sam under his arms.
"That's it! Ride's OVER!" Boromir shouted, unceremoniously dumping Frodo and Sam onto the ground.
"Frodo! Sam! Boromir!" Merry cried, jumping up and down. Pippin joined him, and before long all four Hobbits were gleefully bobbing up and down like corks.
"Enough, Laddies...you're making me seasick!" Gimli said, turning a bit green under all the pink.
The Hobbits calmed down after a few moments, with only one or another bobbing sporadically. "Why do you have so many arrows sticking out of you, Boromir? Shouldn't you be dead?" asked Pippin, flicking one of the arrows with his finger.
Before Boromir could get his hands around the Hobbit's neck, Aragorn said, "What do you think we should do now, Gandalf? We still have time before the conveyance arrives to take us to our rooms for the night."
"Perhaps we should sample some of the exhibits here. I have heard many people speak of something called 'The Balrog Blaster. Anything that would blast a balrog sounds good to me.'
"What type of exhibit is it, Gandalf? I wouldn't want to go to see a REAL Balrog!" Frodo said nervously.
"Nothing here seems real, Frodo, but it is best to be prepared for anything!" Gandalf replied, starting to walk down the path.
"Wait a moment...aren't the Hobbits and I going to change our garments, also?" asked Boromir, seeing the others in their shorts and tee shirts.
"We haven't time if we wish to see this Balrog Blasting thing," Aragorn replied. "You'll just have to make the best of it."
"Besides, those frocks look so lovely on you!" Gimli quipped, ducking around Gandalf before Boromir could reach him.
The group set off for the attraction, which was located between Mordor and Isengard. As they neared the area, they began to spot small signs along the road.
"Welcome to the Misty Mountains." "Beware the Balrog," "Turn Back Now." "This Is Your Last Warning." "Riders Must Be 48" To Experience This Attraction."
"I don't understand that last one," said Sam, looking quite puzzled. I know not what those little marks after '48' mean. Must one be 48 years to ride? The only ones able to go to this exhibit will be Gandalf, Gimli, and Legolas!'
"Don't worry, Laddie. We'll get you in somehow!"
Shortly after, The Walkers found themselves standing before an oddly shaped mountain. It looked like a mountain, being covered in rocks, and scrubby plants, but it was far too symmetrical to be a natural formation. At the base of the mountain was an archway, over which hung a sign that read: "Speak friend, and enter." Leading up to the archway was a very, very long, zigzagged line of people.
"Great Eru! Are all these people waiting to enter the mines? It will take us all night to get through this line!" Aragorn exclaimed, gesturing toward the horde of humans.
"There must be some other way. Come, we will speak to the attendant at the entrance," Gandalf replied.
As they neared the entrance, Legolas caught hold of Gandalf's arm. "I know this man!" Legolas said, spotting the short, very round man standing near the arch. "His name be Mark, also known as Santa, The Fat Elf!"
"Hey, Snookems!" Mark cried when he saw Legolas. "Whoa, you look...um...well...not like you did this morning."
"So I have been told," Legolas said dryly, shooting a look at Gimli. "Why are you here, Santa?"
"Oh, I pull the morning shift as Santa, but work the afternoon shift here. You guys wanna ride the Balrog?"
"Ride? Yes, we wish to see this exhibit."
"I hate to tell you, but a few of your compadres don't quite make the height requirements," Mark whispered to Legolas, cutting his eyes toward Gimli and the Hobbits.
"Height? Do not worry, my friend, we shall boost them up to see when necessary."
"Huh? Um, whatever. Just make sure they hold on to the lap bars, okay? Go on in. I'll radio ahead that I'm sending in a VIP party."
"Thank you, you are most kind," Legolas replied, leading the rest of the group up through the arch.
"Hey," Mark drawled as Boromir passed him, 'You're a big one! You wouldn't happen to be free tonight, would you? I know a great little Italian place with the best food!"
"Food? I have not eaten all day! When can we get this food?" Boromir replied.
Mark opened his mouth to answer, but Legolas grabbed Boromir's arm and started to drag him away. "I am sorry, Mark, but he is not gay."
"I WOULD be happy after I got some food!" Boromir complained as Legolas dragged him away, struggling to get free.
"I told you before, Boromir, there is a DIFFERENCE!" Legolas leaned and whispered exactly what that difference was into Boromir's ear.
"He does WHAT? To WHO?" Boromir asked, looking over his shoulder at Mark, who winked at him. Boromir thought for a minute, then said, "He would feed me first, right?"
Legolas sighed and pushed Boromir through the entrance to the mines.
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