Sauron sat upon his Ring,
Wishing that he could sing.
When at last the words did come,
Something nasty bit his bum...
"Oh, no you don't; not again!" cried a voice.
Sauron looked about the empty Throne Room. He saw no-one and rubbed the sore spot on his right butt cheek.
"Hello? Who is it?" he asked nervously. "Gandalf?" But the voice was not Gandalf's. Besides, the wizard had left the day before, complaining about the food.
"It's me, you idiot," said the voice again. "Would you kindly stop with the rhymes already?"
"Who are... Hang on, what's wrong with my rhymes?" Sauron asked, incensed.
"Come on, Sauron - I refuse to call you Snookums - it's all well and good to go prancing about making silly jokes and doing slapstick routines, but when you start doing these stupid poems... Well, it's too much!"
Sauron scratched his head in consternation. "I thought they were clever..." he said with a sigh.
"Nope, not clever. Dumb. Stupid. Infantile," emphasized the voice.
Sauron looked up at the author, "It's you, isn't it?"
(pause)
"Hello? Author?" tried Sauron again.
The author stirred. "Oh, sorry. Must have fallen asleep. Um, no, it's not me. But," and the author smiled to himself, "I know who it is!"
"That's a shock," muttered Sauron sarcastically to himself. The other, invisible voice, laughed conspiratorially. Indignant, the author walked off and left Sauron alone with the mysterious voice.
"That guy sucks," said the voice.
Sauron laughed, nodding in agreement. "You're right there. Now, who in Mordor are you?"
"I'm your Ring!" said the Ring (the One Ring, in case there was any doubt).
"My Ring! Of course! How the heck are you?"
"Well, I'm round, golden and full of mischief. And apart from a few elf runes, pretty much unscathed. Thanks for asking."
"...and you don't like my poems," finished Sauron for the Ring.
"Sorry, dude. It's like those books you read recently; the ones by Tollcoin. They were good - I read them through you - but each time he put in a poem, song or rhyme, I just wanted you to turn the page and get on with the story!"
Sauron looked at the Ring on his finger. "You can see through my eyes?" he asked.
"Yep, every little thing," answered the Ring cheerfully.
"Even in the bathroom?" asked Sauron with trepidation.
The Ring smirked in a Ringly fashion, "Even in the bathroom." The Ring paused and finished, "You pervert."
"I thought I was alone!"
"Don't worry, dude. I'm made up of you, remember? Anything you do, I want to do, too!" And the Ring laughed evilly.
Sauron paused a moment. Finally, he built up the courage to ask: "Did you see what happened in Fluffy's room that time? When I woke up with him?"
The Ring answered cautiously, "Yes..."
"And?"
"You don't want to know."
On cue, Grizlok tapped on the door and entered.
Fluffy dances with a broom,
As he sweeps the dirty room!
"What a mess," the cool orc said,
When something thumps him on the head...
"Um, Fluffy, we're not doing rhymes any more," Sauron informed him, pleased with his aim.
The orc, rubbing his head, looked at the Dark Lord. "Really? I kinda liked 'em," Grizlok said as he looked at his feet and saw the object that had hit him.
"Hey!" cried the Ring. "Don't touch!" But too late. Grizlok stooped over and picked up the Ring.
Oh damn, thought Sauron. I should have thrown something less valuable. "Fluffy? May I have my Ring back, please?" he asked hopefully.
But too late. The orc had instinctively slid the Ring onto his ugly, wart covered finger. The Ring obediently changed shape and size to accommodate the orc's bulbous digit.
"Ooooo, aren't you precious!" cooed the orc to the Ring.
"Fluffy? Fluffy. Fluffy! FLUFFY!" But Sauron's voice went unnoticed by the orc.
"I'm going to hold you and squeeze you and..." rambled Grizlok to his new prized possession.
Sauron got up from his Throne and stormed across the room to where Grizlok stood. Just as he reached Grizlok, Sauron's foot trod directly onto the head of the discarded broom. The long broom stick came swinging up at a tremendous rate and smacked the Dark Lord square in the middle of the head.
The Dark Lord's eyes glazed over and he toppled backwards onto the floor.
Meanwhile, the broom bounced back off Sauron's head and went equally fast into Grizlok's groin. The orc doubled over with pain and he, too, fell backwards onto the floor, unconscious.
The Ring, suddenly jolted free of the orc, fell to the floor as well, but with a much more dramatic thud. "Ouch", it said, and fell silent.
Some time later, the Dark Lord Sauron - Snookums no more - awoke. Summoning the Ring, it leapt from the cold stone floor directly onto his finger. With a swirl, he span about and strode purposefully to his Throne. Power emanated from his very evil presence and he dramatically sat upon the huge, Dark Throne.
Grizlok the orc, awakened by the wickedness in the air - something that had been missing for about fifteen chapters - realized his Dark Lord and Master was back. He jumped to his feet and clicked his heels.
Oh, what joy! The Dark Lord's back!
He's the best, and not a hack!
We'll kill elves and dwarves and men,
Then come back later and do it again!
But Grizlok's song was interrupted by a bolt of energy from Sauron's Ring of Power. The orc's burnt remains - nothing but a cloud of ash and a nasty smell - drifted to the floor. With a gesture of his finger, the Dark Lord summoned the forgotten broom to life, and swept poor Grizlok from the room.
No more Mr Nice Guy, thought the Dark Lord Sauron.
- THE END -Author's Notes:
Many thanks to those reviewers and appreciators of mayhem and madness (my brand of it, at least!) who read 'Sauron's Throne'. Especially Shantazzar, whose reviews and encouragement kept this story going well after it should have stopped! hehehe (I reckon I would have quit after chapter 4 or 5, otherwise.)
Time to write something serious!