Sauron woke up with a pounding headache. The last thing he could remember clearly was heading to the nineteenth for a drink after golf. What in the name of all that is unholy was I drinking last night? he wondered to himself. The thought itself was loud in his head and he cringed. Must. Stop. Thinking. To. Myself, he thought to himself. Ouch! he thought again.

He tried to open his eyes, only to find they were almost sealed shut with eye-gunk (you know, that stuff you get when you sleep...). With an effort, he managed to open one lid. Fortunately, the room he was in was dark. The bad part was it did him little good as he couldn't tell where he was.

All he knew was that he wasn't in his own bed.

Where am I? he thought. OUCH! Not so loud!

Sauron decided to stop thinking.

Reaching up a shaking hand, he felt the covers atop him and pushed them to one side. They were furs of some sort; putrid, flea infested and greasy. The best Mordor quality. With a little effort, he was free of them, and dropped the furs distastefully.

A movement and groan beside him startled the Dark Lord!

Who's that? he wondered to himself quietly, if you can think quietly. Some lucky strumpet I must have picked up at the bar last night! He grinned in the dark. She must be exhausted, 'cause I'm good! he bragged inwardly. Better let her rest. And he quietly slipped out of the bed.

Darkness surrounded him, plus the terrific stench of the bed chamber. It was almost overpowering. He sniffed his armpits. No, not me! he thought. Still, I better have a quick wash. And he pondered where the bathroom might be.

Taking a guess, he walked straight forward, hoping to find a wall he could feel along. Instead, he collided with a low table and had to suppress a cry of anguish. My foot! he thought too loudly to himself. Then, Ouch! My head!

On inspiration, he pulled out his Ring, conveniently tucked into his underwear (that's the good thing about being the Lord Of The Rings, you can always find your own Ring! The only way you could loose it was if your finger was cut off. But that could never happen... could it?). He slipped it on a finger, and tapped its side. Suddenly, a small beam of light pierced through the darkness from the Ring. I knew that'd come in handy one day, he congratulated himself. Softly. I am good!

Sweeping it about the room; the filthy, disgusting room, that is, he spotted a small alcove where a bucket of water stood. The bathroom! Sauron made his way there, placed the Ring on a shelf, turned up the brightness a bit, then proceeded to plunge his hands and face into the bucket.

That was a mistake. It wasn't the bathroom... it was the toilet!

"Yucky!!" he cried, quickly wiping his hands and face on his remaining clothing. "That's GROSS!"

A murmur from the bed distracted him. He'd awakened his partner. "Sorry, baby, didn't mean to disturb you," Sauron whispered quietly to the occupant of the bed. He got a few more murmurs in reply, then he heard the bedclothes and furs fall to the floor, followed by the padding of bare feet across the room.

"I was just trying to clean up, sugarplum, but I couldn't find the bathroom. Where is it, sweetie?" he asked

"That is the bathroom," was the reply.

"Oh..." said Sauron. And that really is gross, he thought.

Then it hit him. That voice was familiar. But with his current state of mind he couldn't quite pinpoint it. Worse still, he remembered there were no women in Mordor.... no women.

The figure stepped into the light of the Ring and spoke, "Snookums?"

"FLUFFY!" cried Sauron.