Their tongues darted between them, hot moist and wanton. The hero's hands roamed all over the damsel's body, his desire raging. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Pressing herself against him, she felt his throbbing love pressing against her. "Take me now!" she moaned. He obliged by picking her up bodily and lovingly tossed her onto the nearby bed. Something cracked, but it didn't dampen their love. Just a bone, she thought.

The hero leapt onto the damsel, making a loud splat as he landed on her. Something oozed out from his side. Ignoring the ooze, he quickly started tearing at the remains of her clothes, ripping them off her in huge handfuls. She arched her back in joy as he peeled away her layers, exposing her flesh. He took one of her hands and lifted it, snapping the wrist accidentally and discarded the extremity with a grin. She laughed in return. "Oh you tease!" she cried.

He stood up, tore off his shirt and exposed his chest. He then ripped off his chest, exposing his ribcage. The damsel growled in appreciation, the blood and entrails sloshing onto the floor....

A knocking at the door interrupted the proceedings.

Sauron put down his copy of Zombie Love Stories, and called "Yes? Who is it?" He shifted his position in the massive bed in which he lay, recuperating from the attack last week.

The door opened, revealing three sheepish looking orcs: Grizlok, Fungen and Trasher. Grizlok spoke, "You summoned us, my lord?"

Sauron slipped the tattered novel under the covers. Better not let the boys see this! he thought.

"Yes, Fluffy. Did you finish the invitations as I ordered?" he asked.

Grizlok looked at the other orcs for confirmation, and answered, "Yes, Lord – Lord Snookums."

"Excellent. And are the preparations in hand? I'd be doing it myself, but," and he looked them sternly in the eyes, "something happened last week, didn't it? And now I'm stuck in bed for the next few days."

The orcs said nothing, but just nodded silently. The punishment for their treason had been a severe talking-to by Sauron. It had lasted a full six hours. Grizlok wished he'd been lashed a thousand times or fed to the werewolves instead, it was that painful. He shuddered at the memory. Sauron had then ordered them to write out all the invitations for his upcoming Party. Grizlok's hands still ached from the unusual use.

"And are the invitations being delivered?" inquired Sauron.

"Yes, my lord. We used UPS as you ordered." (That's the Uruk Postal System.)

The Dark Lord waved them away. "Very well, get back to it and be sure to wash the good glasses before the party. I can't have Galadriel drinking from a dirty one!" And a strange, distant look crossed his eyes at the thought of her name... Galadriel.

When the orcs had gone, Sauron pulled out the dog eared copy of Zombie Love Stories, and tried to find his place.

"Mmmm, brains..." moaned the damsel as the hero's skull popped open before her. He gurgled something in reply, but the words were lost in the slopping sounds his brain made as it slid out onto the bed...

That's just gross, thought Sauron, tossing the book onto the floor. He settled back into the bed, closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.

But there was no rest for the Dark Lord of Mordor. The phone rang.

He answered it groggily, "Yeah, watcha want?" he asked unprofessionally.

The voice on the other end of the phone said, "I represent AT&T (that's A Troll & another Troll communications company), have you considered switching your long distance carrier?"

"No. Bugger off," said the Dark Lord. He slammed the phone down. The sooner I get one of them new fangled Palantirs, the better, he thought. No more tele-marketers!

The phone rang again. He picked up the receiver, and the same voice from before said, "I really think you should consider our offer. We can connect you for a small, one-time fee of..." But Sauron simply hung up before he could finished his sales speech.

This is starting to get annoying, he thought.

The phone rang again. Sauron lifted the receiver and said, "If that's you again, so help me I'll see you dangling over the lava pits of Orodruin before the day is through!"

The voice said, "Maybe I can tempt you with free long distance?"

But Sauron wasn't interested. He leant over to his bedside table, picked up the One Ring sitting there, and slipped it on his finger. With a little concentration, he summoned the new powers it gave him, and he sent them forth.

On the other end of the phone, a girlish shriek could be heard, and in the background the plop, plop, plop, of lava bubbles popping.

Sauron hung up the phone and went to sleep. It didn't ring again.