"Strangers from distant lands," K-rond began, "I find us in a very interesting predicament. We have supreme evil intent on making us slaves or wiping us all out. Now, it's interesting to note the similarities between our situation and the French Revolution." The large elf was beginning to get excited now, and he paced back and forth. He rushed over to a blackboard and snatched up a piece of chalk.

"It's as if we were all grass. We have the nobles, the aristocracy, down here the peasants…" He began to draw various sized spiky things, presumably blades of grass.

Behind him, those assembles at the council began to fall asleep. Bobomir leaned heavily on his neighbor, the dwarf Imlig Otrec, and she herself was busily writing notes to another dwarf. Yawning, Legolson absently began strumming his guitar softly. Rosie's eyes drooped, and Aragorn was dead to the world, his snoring accompanying the guitar.

"…wants to cut us all off, make us the same level…" K-rond continued, drawing a horizontal line through the "grass."

Wil fell out of his chair, sound asleep.

K-rond whipped around and pointed his finger.

"That's a leftist attitude right there!" he cried, startling everyone awake.

"Huh? Whaaaa……… g'mornin'…… I don' wanna go to school, mommy….." they all mumbled.

"And that brings me to my point," the elf continued, suddenly calm. "Bring forth the hoodie, Rosie."

Rosie stood and walked to the pedestal in the middle of the courtyard. She slowly pulled off the hoodie and placed it on the pedestal.

As she sat back down, Bobomir stroked his chin. "Wow. That's a cool hoodie. Wish I could have it."

"No," Aragorn grunted.

"Psh. Whatta you know? You're just a ranger."

"Hey, dude, look," Legolson stood, still holding his guitar. "He's not just a ranger. He's Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor."

"Sit," Aragorn muttered in elvish.

"Ha!" Bobomir said as he took his seat. "No one can rule over me!"

"There's obviously only one thing to do," K-rond said. "It must be destroyed!" He emphasized the last three words by pounding his fist on his palm.

"Ok!" Imlig hopped out of her chair, her long brown curls flying, and pulled out her huge battle scissors. But when she attempted to cut off the hood, the blades snapped and sent her flying across the floor.

"Oww!"

"Imlig Otrec," K-rond said patiently, "you can't destroy it with any weapon. It has to be unmade where it was made: Mount Loom. One of you has to take it."

"Duh!" Bobomir burst out. "You can't just walk into Mordor! I mean, the air there is even worse than hospital food!"

Collective gasp.

"Yeah, and it's not like you can just walk up to Perron and say, 'Excuse me, could you let me into Mount Loom, I'd like to destroy your hoodie.'"

"Didn't you hear anything?" Legolson leaped to his feet again. "It's gotta be destroyed!"

"And I bet you think you can do it, " Imlig, now recovered, also rose.

"And what if Perron gets it back?! Bobomir yelled. "What then? I don't want to be around if that happens!"

"I will be dead before I see the hoodie in the hands of an elf!" Imlig exploded.

The whole council then stood, coming to the defense of their respective races. Through the angry babble, Rosie could hear the hoodie whispering to her, and she knew what she had to do. She stood.

"I will take it!" She cried out.

No one heard her.

"I said, I will take it!!"

The voices subsided, and one by one they all looked at her.

She repeated herself more calmly.

"I will take the—" she paused and stiffened as she spotted a scuffmark on the stone floor. "—hoodie to Mordor," she finished as she rubbed out the mark with her toe. Then she looked up. "Though, I do not know the way."

"Well, then, I'll show you," Andyalf said, and stood next to her.

Aragorn grunted and approached them.

"And you have my knives," Legolson said, joining the group.

"And my scissors!" Imlig said, obviously forgetting her previous grudge against the elf.

"Hey, I'm coming, too!" Bobomir said. "There's no way I'm letting that cool hoodie outta my sight… I mean… Gondor will see it done."

"Rosie's not going anywhere without me," Wil said, going to stand by his friend. "She's still borrowing my book, and I want it back," he added.

Then Merry and Hunter dashed up.

"We're not going to miss the fun, are we?" The short hobbit said.

"Not a chance, brother."

"Fine, fine, I give up! You can go," K-rond said. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Hoodie!"

crickets chirping

"Dun! Dun! Dun!" Wil said.

…

"Here's my old sword, Sting," Bilbo said. "You're going to need it."

Rosie unsheathed the sword and swung it experimentally.

"Cool!"

"It glows blue when there's dorcs about," Bilbo added.

"Even better!"

"Here's something else," Bilbo said, and pulled out a sparkling silver shirt.

"Ooohh, pretty!"

It's mithril. Light as a feather, and as hard as dragon scales. C'mon, put it on!"

"Eww! Not in front of you!"

"You can put it on over your shirt."

"Oh, ok."

Rosie pulled off her cloak, and Bilbo spotted the hoodie she wore.

"My old hoodie," he said. "If only I could wear it once more…"

"Sicko! I'm not taking it off!" Rosie put her cloak back on.

Suddenly, Bilbo's eyes bulged out, and he barred his teeth, jumping at her with a hissing snarl.

Rosie screamed. "Holy flippin' pancakes! What are you?!"

Just as suddenly, the old hobbit sat down and began crying, wailing that he was sorry.

"Y'know, you really should see a doctor or something," Rosie said, backing out the door.