"Have my guests arrived?" inquired Sauron.

Grizlok nodded, "Yes, My Lord. The last of them has just entered the dungeon - " A scolding look from Sauron changed Grizlok's words, "I mean the newly refurbished underground Dance Hall, just a few moments ago."

"Excellent," said Sauron, rubbing his hands together like some evil character out of a cartoon show. "I can hardly wait to meet them!" He paused a second and asked, "Did Lady Galadriel arrive?"

The orc looked at his master and said again, "All the guests have arrived, Master. Even Galadriel." That bi-atch witch queen, he added to himself.

"Don't get sassy with me, Fluffy. You're still in my bad books, remember."

Grizlok winced a little and thought, What are you going to do? Turn me into a frog? But he knew better than to say anything. With his Lord's new powers, heightened by the One Ring and combined with his new 'outlook' on life, you could never be sure what Sauron would do!

"Let's go then," commanded Sauron. And he walked out of the kitchen, down the hall and into the Dance Hall, freshly painted and recarpeted, the old torture devices converted into coat racks, tables and chairs. Grizlok followed closely behind.

Sauron surveyed the party in progress. His guests were spread about the Dance Hall. Three elves stood alone at the rear of the Hall. Sauron swallowed as he caught sight of Galadriel and averted his eyes bashfully. Nine men, standing in the centre of the room, all saluted when he entered. He waved at them politely. Closest to the Dark Lord were seven short, hairy and very smelly dwarves.

He approached the seven, summoning Grizlok to follow and beckoned the orc to introduce them.

Grizlok scowled, but complied dutifully. "My Lord Snookums, may I introduce, um, er" and he consulted a scrap of dirty paper he pulled from his under his arm, "May I introduce Lords Dopey, Grumpy, Doc, Happy, Bashful, Sneezy and Sleepy."

"What?!?" cried Sauron. "These are the seven Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone?"

Grizlok looked at his list for confirmation. "Yes, my Lord. Fungen wrote out the dwarf invitations. From memory he got the names from a book he found on your desk." The orc scratched his ugly head a moment and continued, "I remember him asking me if we should invite someone called 'Snow White' as well, but I told him only the dwarves And here they are!"

"Hi ho!" said one.

"Oh, shut up," said Sauron. He paused a moment and said, "Why don't you take a seat?" and pointed at a recently renovated Iron Maiden Foot Stool, complete with rusty spikes covered in a thin polyester. "You others might find The Rack Sofa comfy, too."

With that, he approached the nine men. Sounds of ouch, ouch, OUCH could be heard behind him.

"And who are these guys?" he asked impatiently, gesturing at the nine.

Grizlok flipped the page over and read down the list, his lips moving silently as he did so. He paused, re-read the list, looked up at his Lord, back at the list. Sweat was beginning to trickle down his face. Eventually he spoke nervously, "My Lord, Trasher made out the invitations for the nine men," he offered in explanation. Sauron waved him to continue. Grizlok coughed and said, "This would be Lord Kenneth." A man close by nodded. "And this would be Lord Kenneth." Another man nodded. "To your right is... Lord Kenneth. And to his left is another Lord Kenneth..."

Sauron grabbed the page from Grizlok's hand. He scanned it quickly and said, "They'll all called Kenneth?" In unison, the nine Kenneths nodded in reply and said, "At your service!".

...and they're 'doomed to die', alright, thought Sauron to himself.

"Dare I ask what of the Elven-kings?"

Grizlok straightened up a little as he said proudly, "I made those invitations, Lord Snookums. I know you had this thing for Galadriel, so I made sure she was invited. As I didn't know any other elves, I added to her invitation, 'Bring Two Friends!'"

Sauron rolled his eyes, "And who did she bring?"

Grizlok answered, "Her husband and..."

"Husband?!" cried Sauron in disbelief.

The orc checked the list, "I'm afraid so, my Lord." He looked at Sauron and said, "You didn't know she was married?" The Dark Lord nodded mutely. "I'm sorry, My Lord," he said in consolation.

Sauron looked across the room at the three elves, "Please tell me he's not the guy with the big grey beard."

Grizlok shook his head, "No My Lord, her husband's the gay-looking one with the long silver-white hair; the guy in the dress."

Sauron chuckled at the comment. "He does look gay, doesn't he?" Straightening up he turned to leave, ordering, "Give them the Rings. I can have some fun with them later... in the darkness."

Sauron left the party, but a small tear of sadness trickled down his cheek.