..:: Chapter 3 – The Dancizzle Phonizzle ::..

PB, "Sorry it took so long to update! I'll work on updating sooner, I promise! Check my profile for news/updates/stuff like that. Since it's so much fun, all the chappie titles will be in izzle-from from now on, mkay? Translation: The Dancing Phony. I think we all know who that's going to be..."

Bob, being an idiot, "FRODO!"

Steve, "Are you kidding? Frodo can't dance for shits!"

PB, "PSP, you're such an idiot."

LPB, reading FotR, "Hey guys. What's up?"

BBJJSMC, falling out of chairs, "AAAHHH! Where'd you come from?"

LPB, "Well, I am a real live imaginary person. So I felt like reading FotR, TT, and RotK."

Mike, "You're planning on reading FotR, TT, and RotK in the next two minutes?"

LPB, "No. I read TT first, then RotK, and now I'm almost done with FotR."

Carl, "...?"

LPB, speed-reading FotR, "Okay, I'm done now."

Bob, "So now you're a complete know-it-all about LotR and you know everything's that's gonna happen?"

LPB, "Yup. And cuz I'm such a know-it-all, I've mysteriously watched all 3 movies, too, and PotC."

Billy, "When did this happen?"

LPB, "Well, since I'm a real live imaginary person, it only makes sense that I can do real live imaginary things. But only in rare moments."

Jack, "Like now."

LPB, "Exactly."

PB, "Well, then, I guess this makes this fic a Mary Sue parody, then. Eh, it was headed in that direction anyway. Now get back in the story!"

LPB, "Fine! Don't gotta be so huffy about it."

Frodo, Giliath, Pippin, Merry and Sam all walked up to the gate in Bree in rain that came up out of nowhere.

"Stupid come-up-out-of-nowhere rain in Bree," Giliath muttered. Then, since she was the tallest, she knocked on the door.

The old weird gatekeeper guy opened that peep-hole-that-is-really-a-big-square-and-I-don't-know-what-they-call-those-things. "Whaddya want?" he said.

"To get in, no duh! So let us in!" Giliath snapped (Pissed off female elves and rain really don't mix).

"Sure, I will," the gatekeeper said. "For a price."

"What do you want?" Giliath asked.

"I want..." the gatekeeper said, "A FORTUNE COOKIE!"

"...That's all?" Giliath said. "Okay, then." She pulled a random fortune cookie from out of nowhere. "Here you go."

The gatekeeper read the fortune. "Hey, this thing says I'll be squashed flatter than lembas bread within the hour!"

"Well, that's a crummy fortune!" Pippin piped up. "Hahaha, get it? Crummy fortune, cuz it's a fortune cookie...I crack myself up!"

"Eh? Who's down there?" the gatekeeper said, squinting into the rain – which is pointless, since you can't really see anything in both the rain and the dark.

"Just 4 annoying hobbits," Giliath said. "So, will you let us in?"

"Eh, why not?" the gatekeeper said, and he let them in.

On one side of the street was a dark and dreary inn with a sign reading "The Inn of the Dancing Phony". On the other side was a lit-up, colorful inn with a sign reading "The Inn of the Prancing Pony". From the Inn of the Prancing Music, a certain song along the lines of voulez-vouz coucher avec moi ce soir was playing.

"Hey, that's that one song Christina Aguilera, Lil Kim, Mya, and Pink did for the Red Windmill," Giliath said, being the know-it-all that she now is.

"Dude!" Frodo said. "It's la nuit des courtisanes at the Prancizzle Ponizzle! We gotta go!" He tried to run to the Inn of the Prancing Pony, but Giliath grabbed his arm.

"I don't think so," she said. "Come on, loser."

"Why, hello!" the innkeeper said when they went in. "If you'd like, we have a room with four hobbit sized beds."

"Thanks!" Frodo said. "We'll take them!"

"Oh, so I suppose I'll just sleep standing up, then, shall I?" Giliath snapped.

"Well, DUH!" Frodo said.

"I'll need to know your name," the innkeeper said.

"Oh, sure. Frodizzle Bag-"

"(cough)Underhill(cough)," Giliath coughed.

Frodo ignored her. "Frodizzle Ba-"

"(cough)UNDERHILL!(cough)," Giliath coughed again.

"Do you need a cough drop or something?" Frodo asked Giliath, rather irritated.

Giliath rolled her eyes.

"Oh!" Frodo said, finally remembering. "Oh yeah, what Gandizzle said. Yeah, my name's Undizzlehizzle."

"Underhill, eh?" the innkeeper said. "That's the worst pseudonym I've ever heard. Whatever, you'll probably be under the hill soon, anyway."

So Frodo and Co. decided to sit around drinking ale, except for Giliath, who was staring at some dude who was smoking a pipe and staring at Frodo, because Elves don't drink, but even if they did, Giliath didn't because Elrond never let her, being the strict dad that he is.

"Come on, Giliath, have some ale!" Pippin said cheerfully, swinging his ale around.

"No, I'm okay, you go ahead and drink mine," Giliath said.

"Okay, then," Pippin said in a suit-yourself way, chugging still more ale.

"Hey, Innkeeper dude person," Giliath said to the innkeeper passing by. "Who's that guy?" She pointed to the dude smoking a pipe, still staring and Frodo.

"Oh, him?" the innkeeper said. "That's the Dancing Phony. He comes by so much we decided to name the inn after him."

"Why's he called the Dancing Phony?" Merry asked.

As if in answer to his question, the Dancing Phony dropped his pipe, jumped onto a conveniently located table, and threw off his cloak to reveal a loose gold billowing shirt with red and magenta stripes, very tight black pants, and black leather boots.

And, as if things couldn't get any more random, Giliath was suddenly struck with an urge to be an activist. "Murderer!" she screamed. "A cow had to die just for you to have those boots, you know!!!!"

Everyone in the inn turned and stared at her while several conveniently located crickets conveniently decided to chirp at that very moment.

"Um...I mean..." Giliath said. "Nice shirt!"

Since all the people in the inn really cared about was their ale, they all shrugged and went back to spilling the stuff through their beards. (eeewwwww....) Then the Dancing Phony started Riverdancing on the table to – well, Riverdancing music. Then the music changed to beepboxing, and the Dancing Phony started breakdancing like in You Got Served, except he was on a table in an inn with a really dorky outfit on. The music ended, and the Dancing Phony did a full twist off the table and landed on the floor in the splits.

(PB, "I have no clue if that's even humanely possible, and it must be pretty painful for him since he's a guy and all, but, oh, well. If you don't know what a twist is, well, I think that's what it's called. It's that one thing like in Bring It On that Missy does at the end of her tryout thingie. Okee, back to the story.")
"Word, that was pimp!" Frodo said. "I gotsta try that!"

Everyone looked on in pity as Frodo attempted to breakdance, failed miserably, looking like a dying jellyfish (PB: I have no clue what that looks like, but, just go with it), and ended up tripping over his own big, ugly, hairy hobbit feet. He fell over onto the ground, and the ring flew up into the air. Frodo reached for it, and the ring slid down his middle finger instead of bouncing off and probably getting lost under the tables like any other ring would.

Everyone stared as the suspense music played, waiting for something to happen, all holding their breath –

And, about five minutes later, they all started collapsing onto the floor because, like idiots, they decided not to breathe. OF COURSE NOTHING HAPPENED!

"Erm, aren't you supposed to like, disappear and shit like your uncle did at his 111th birthday?" Giliath said.

Frodo glared at the ring. "Stupid thing must be broken!"

The Dancing Phony walked over. "That was a pitiful attempt at breakdancing," he said. "Totally pathetic."

"Whoa, dude," Giliath said. "You were so channeling Simon from American Idol right then."

"Who?" the Dancing Phony asked. "Your little friend needs to take dance lessons. Pitiful thing tripped over his own feet." And he walked away like some high-and-mighty Brit. (PB, "No offense to any Brits out there! I'm just talking about someone like Simon.")

"Word, is you insulting my peeps?" Frodo said, and flipped the Dancing Phony off. Immediately, he disappeared.

"Ohhhh," Giliath said. "He has to flip someone off for it to work."

"Acutally," the Dancing Phony said to Invisible-Frodo-who-was-just-chilling-there-like-an-idiot-all-invisible-and-shit, "I was insulting you."

"Oh, I see how it is!" Frodo's disembodied voice yelled. Then, even though no one could see him do it, he flipped off the Dancing Phony again, and reappeared.

"I can make myself unnoticed," the Dancing Phony said, "But to disappear entirely – that is a rare gift." And without another corny word, he grabbed Frodo and ran.

"Yo, but that don't make no sense, yo," Frodo was yelling. "You're wearing a friggin gold shirt!"

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled, and started running after them. He stopped and turned around. "Hey, aren't you going to help us?" he asked Giliath, who had pulled out an emery board.

Giliath inspected her nails. "Nah," she said.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin glanced at each other, shrugged, and went running after Frodo and the Dancing Phony. After giving herself a French manicure, Giliath decided to go look for them. She walked into a room to see them all sitting in a circle and – you guessed it – drinking more ale.

"So, Strider," Sam said. "What's your real name?"

"My real name........." Strider trailed off, going into a trance.

"Yes?" Merry said after two minutes of silence.

"Huh?" Strider said, snapping out of his trance. "Oh, yes! It's Eragon!"

Eragon crashed through the window WITHOUT GETTING ANY GLASS ON HIMSELF OR ANYONE ELSE. Convenient, eh?

"You're not Eragon!" Eragon yelled. "I am! And that's my dragon, Saphira!" He pointed out the window where a large blue dragon was having the time of her life chasing screaming Ringwraiths around in little circles until, scared out of their minds, the Ringwraiths jumped on their horses and galloped away. "Haha, I have a dragon and YOU DON'T!" He laughed insanely.

"Um.......okay then," Giliath said. 'O.o'

Eragon coughed. "Well, anyway, his name's Aragorn."

"Who?" Sam, Merry, Frodo, and Pippin asked.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as Estel, soon to be King Elessar, boyfriend/future husband of Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond the Elf; played by the actor Viktor Morris, whom many find irresistible – though I think Omar Blue is hotter – who is also in the movie Hidalgo and talks in a weird-ass accent," Giliath said, talking very quickly. (PB, "I'm not an idiot! I know their real names, I just can't use them.")

"Did you say he's an Elf?" Eragon asked.

"No, I'm an Elf," Giliath said, exasperated. "He's a Man, like you. Stupid mortals," she muttered under her breath.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm supposed to be somewhere right now," Eragon said. "Um...that is...uh..." He trailed off, trying to remember where he was supposed to be.

"(cough)Rescue Elf(cough)," Giliath coughed.

"Eh? What was that?" Eragon asked.

"GO RESCUE YOUR ELF!!!" Giliath yelled.

"Oh, yeah! Thanks, wise-ass Elf!" Eragon said, and jumped out the window onto Saphira. There was an "OW!" of pain when he landed in her saddle.

"Show-off," Giliath muttered.

"What were you saying about me?" Strider/the Dancing Phony/NOT Eragon/Aragorn/Estel/boyfriend-and-future-hubby-of-Arwen/Viktor Morris/not-as-hot-as-Omar Blue/damn-this-dude-has-a-lot-of-names asked.

"Um...that you were Arwen's boyfriend?" Giliath said.

"Oh, I thought you said a lot more than that, but, okay," Aragorn said with a shrug.

PB, "Okay, that's it for now! In the next chappie, they'll be at Weathertop, cuz the whole breakfast/second breakfast is kinda old. And Saphira chased away the Ringwraiths, so no stabbing beds. Anywayz, go review!"