Is there seriously such a thing as accordion lessons? That's interesting.

Chapter Drei: Return of the King!

Everybody was sitting around a table in one of the many big halls around Minas Tirith waiting for their dinner. They had been waiting for the past five and a half days, so it was in fact the early morning and therefore should have been breakfast instead of dinner.

They all looked around and blinked a few times. Well, a few times since about eight seconds earlier. If it had been counted how many times they had blinked in their lives all together it would probably very well go up to 12,776,084 or near abouts.

"Sooooooooooo…" Aragorn commented.

Nobody replied. That made him sad. He had worked so hard on making an interesting conversation.

However, at that moment there was a knock at the door, which opened up even though nobody had said that the person could come in. That was rather rude.

When the door was open as far as it could, everybody was able to see who it was who had knocked on the door and had not waited for anybody to allow them entrance.

"BAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" cried Aragorn.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" screamed Arwen.

"MOOOONNNKKKEEEEYYYY!!!" screeched Gimli.

"Where?" asked Legolas.

"MOOOOOOOOOOO!" said the cow who had not been milked in four days.

"RUN AWAY!!" suggested Eomer, who had been in a strangely sissy mood lately.

Faramir looked at the thing and after a few moments of consideration said, "Daaaad?"

That would have been a lot to deduce of the pile of ash outside the door that vaguely resembled something that might have been human shaped at some time.

In reply the thing went "Eeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh."

There was a really long pause.

"Eeeeeeeehhhhhhhhh?" the thing asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure, come right in," Aragorn said, although not really wanting the lump of ash to sit on any of his newly upholstered chair cushions.

The Thing, which they were all starting to realize was Denethor, shook what would have been a fist at Aragorn. "Eeehh hhhh eeehh hehhh!" he rattled off.

Everybody gasped.

"Well, that was not very nice," Legolas pointed out with a frown.

"Eeeeh hhhhhh!" Denethor shot back.

"I am not a pansy!!" Legolas cried before running out of the room.

"Dad! Stop it! You don't have to be a turd just because you don't get your way," Faramir said in exasperation.

"Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," was Denethor's snooty reply.

"No you don't. Why are you here anyways? You couldn't just die and stay dead?"

Denethor tried to do something that was a grin, but considering that he no longer had any facial muscles, along with the fact that he didn't even have a face, the attempt didn't really work. "AAAAAAAhhhhhh fhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Aragorn leaned over to Arwen. "So much for dignity," he said, noting that pretty much everything that came out of Denethor's… mouth… sounded more like some really messed up animal's mating call.

Arwen just nodded.

Faramir looked at Denethor for a minute. "…What's April?"

The Ash Pile Denethor paused for a moment in his triumph. "Hhhhhh."

Then he blew away in a sudden gust of wind despite the fact that they were in a closed room with no windows. That being the case the wind was probably just Gimli's gas.

Sam returned back to Number Three Bagshot Row late in the evening. He was still pretty emotionally depressed after having his bestest friend decide to leave Middle-Earth and go to the Land of Eternal Snazziness, otherwise known as Valinor. Or maybe it was Eressea. Whatever, didn't really matter cause no matter what he was still gone.

As he came close to the house, a cute little hobbit lassie ran out of the door and gave him a hug. Next came his wifey Rosie holding mini-Frodo. For a minute he continued to be very sad and heartbroken, but then decided that his life was still pretty good and went into his cozy little hobbit hole complete with a breakfast nook but not by the sea.

"Well," he began, finally consenting that there really wasn't much else he could do but stay there, "I'm back."

They all went back inside to have dinner before going out again and playing a nice family game of tip the cow.

As soon as they went inside, a creepy little figure with big buggy blue eyes that looked like somebody had stuffed glow in the dark light sticks in his eye sockets slowly popped up out of one of the many topiaries in the yard. This one happened to look like a flamingo.

"Ssssss…" he hissed pensively. "Now we shall have our revenge, my precious! We shall show them about April Fool's, shan't we?"

The eyes became less ratio-active blue glowing for a moment. "Yes, yes. They can take away the Precious, and we can take away their baby!!"

The blue lit up again and he made a noise that was probably a laugh. It was hard to tell.

After a couple hours of hardcore cow tipping, the Gamgee family returned to their humble abode. Rosie put the children to bed, and then Sam and she sat in the family room talking about various things including, but not limited to, gardening, cow tipping, the man on the Pringles can, and how those packing peanuts were made.

While they spoke about this, the freakish looking fellow from earlier crept to the window which went to mini-Frodo's bedroom. Carefully he climbed in and scurried across the floor to the baby's crib and peaked over the side with a low hiss.

Mini-Frodo looked at Gollum and smiled. Gollum frowned as he couldn't figure out why anybody would smile at him, even a baby.

With a shrug, he reached in and grabbed the baby, hoisting it up and getting ready to bash its head open on the crib rail.

Yet at that moment the baby became attracted to his large florescent eyes. With the accuracy that little babies have in going for things which cause pain, he stuck out his hands and grabbed at Gollum's eyes.

Gollum let out a screech of pain and dropped mini-Frodo, who conveniently landed on Rosie's yoga ball and bounced back into the crib.

However, Gollum was having a more difficult time. His eyes, which were terribly sensitive, hurt a ton. He backed up to the window and accidentally fell out of it, only to be struck down by a meteor that came flying out of the sky at that moment.

The only thing left of him was a small pile of charred remains in the bottom of a deep crater.