Sauron lay in bed, tossing and turning. He couldn't sleep. Damn that Galadriel, he thought. Sexy, alluring... and unavailable. Oh well, maybe I can try something else...
He reached over to his nightstand, pushed aside the discarded magazines and empty plastic cups labelled 'McMorgoth - supersized!', searching for his Ring. (The First Dark Lord, Morgoth, had created the franchise and was now happily living off the profits in retirement). Finding it, he slipped it on the tip of one finger and pointed it at the palantir sitting inertly on a stand at the foot of his bed. With a press of his finger, the palantir flickered into life and images started to appear on its black, spherical surface.
Sauron scooted up in the bed, put a pillow against the bed-head, leant against it and sighed in relaxation. Maybe this will distract me and I can get some sleep, he thought. Watching the images slowly brighten, he saw landscapes, orcs and various monsters slowly drift into and out of view. Pointing the Ring at the mysterious seeing stone, he pressed his thumb on the top edge of the Ring and the image on the palantir changed.
Static appeared across the palantir's surface, to be replaced by a dark, grey image of three overweight dwarves hitting each other over the head with various plumbing tools, followed by the sound of laughter from an invisible audience.
"Bloody repeats," muttered Sauron to no-one in particular and pressed the Ring again.
Images of trolls sitting around a camp fire, discussing the best technique to eat a dwarf, appeared. But cooking shows bored the Dark Lord, so he pressed the Ring once more.
This time five or six orcs in various colourful outfits were seen fussing over another, badly dressed orc. It looked like they were discussing what he'd look best in: pastels or something formal. The unkempt orc didn't seem particularly keen on their opinions and was raising an axe to shown them what he truly thought of their ideas. Sauron chuckled to himself; he liked 'Queer Orc For the Straight Orc'. But he'd seen this one before and pressed the Ring again.
Next he saw another group of orcs, sitting in a circle, apparently on a desert island. Several flaming torches surround the area. One by one, the orcs would hold up a piece of paper and say, "I want Frellzig to go... he stinks," while another would say, "Bormank must go... he's good, but I see him as tough competition later on. And he stinks." Sauron quickly hit the Ring again. He couldn't stand 'Survivorc.' (I know, I know... groan)
He flicked through several more images until he finally hit upon one of the 'special' images he received. After all, he was the Dark Lord of Mordor and could afford the full package of channels. This was a direct feed from the other Rings. He swallowed as he realized he was watching images from Galadriel's Ring.
There she was, the woman of his dreams; the subject of his desires... totally oblivious that was watching her. Best still, it looked like she was about to take a bath! Sauron sat up straight in his bed, unable to believe his eyes. Yes, yes... she was taking off her robes! Oh this is good, he thought.
Just as she unhooked the last of her many diaphanous layers, letting it fall gracefully to the forest floor, another elf appeared in the image, blocking Sauron's view. Damn, it's that Celebum, or whatever his name is, thought the Dark Lord. All he could see was the elf's back. And worse still, he was taking his clothes off too! I can't watch this, thought Sauron sourly, and quickly changed the channel again.
His breathing rapid, he tried to concentrate on the image that appeared. It was of a lovely green piece of countryside. Several men were walking up a gentle grass plain lined with high trees. Each man was dressed in strange tweed patterned clothing. They seemed intent on chasing down a small white ball, although at walking pace. And equally intent on hitting it with metal poles with flat heads that looked like poorly made axes.
That's more like it, he thought, something quiet and peaceful. Suddenly he had an idea, turned off the palantir and reach for the phone. Dialling, he waited until finally someone answered.
"Hey Bob, wanna play a round of golf today?" he asked abruptly. A muffled response sounded in the receiver. "No, I don't know what time it is. It's so had to tell in the land 'where the Shadows lie'... Always looks like it's about 7pm to me" More muffled responses. "Okay, okay, I'll give you a two hole handicap... how does that sound?" This time an affirmative sound came out. "Excellent, see you at the clubhouse." But as Sauron started to put the phone down, a last minute query from the other end paused his movement. "Royal Mordor, of course. We always play there. I'm a member!" And he put the phone down and got out of bed.
As he dressed, he realized he didn't have a caddy (the last was fried to a cinder, actually... Sauron had a temper on the course). I'll need a new one, the thought.
"FLUFFY!!"