A/N: soz ppls for not updating in like, forever, but yah, I'm back. And this is probably gonna be short, but yah, all the same, it's another chapter. Except this chappie is dedicated to cookies-will-invade cos of her depressing birthday the other day. So this is to un-depress you, dear! I hope you enjoy it, and yes, parentage is a word. At least, Word doesn't say it's not!

On with the story!

We last left Aragorn, Legolas, and Sam skipping off to go and smell a
banana…?

Let us go and catch up with them now!

OoOoOoOoOoO

"I wonder?wut?por?mifter froto ?if up to?" said Sam with a mouthful of
banana. You see, his hobbit instincts had gotten the better of him when
he sniffed the yellow fruit.

"Huh?" Aragorn asked, looking up. He had been busy day dreaming about
what would of happened if he had joined England for the Euro 2004 instead of
setting out on some quest his daddy sent him on.

"They probably would of beaten Portugal." Aragorn mutters in the
Author's ear, who nods in agreement, but quickly runs away when she sees a grey
African parrot coming after her saying "Hello? Hello? Brenda? What?
Hellooo?"

But our dear Legolas was unfazed by any of this, as he was happily
feeding the teaspoon a bottle, since it had waken up from its nap.

"Don't you think you oughta give that thing a rest?" Aragorn asked the
elf as he and Sam stood besides him. Legolas just shook his head.

"Well, hurry up, Master Legolas." Said Sam eagerly. "We need to go save
mister Frodo."

"Why?" asked Aragorn in a teasing voice. "Do you love him?"

Sam shook his head, blushing. "Not like that, Mr. Strider, sir." he said simply. "I just think that that mister Frodo might be wantin' to be saved sometime soon."

"Oh." Aragorn said, sounding very disappointed indeed. (When you're a Ranger stuck out in the wild for 20 years, you'll understand. Or, at least, Aragorn said I will. I'm not even 20 years old yet, so I just wait to understand.)

Suddenly, there was a burst of blue, pink, and purple shiny light, and Legolas let out a string of colorful curses.

"Wow, that was definitely not the welcome we were looking for." said a light female voice.

"Yeah." agreed another. "Let's try that again."

There was another swirl of magical, sparkly colors, and as they disappeared, two girls remained where the colors had been.

"Who are you?" Sam asked as Legolas slapped his forehead.

"I am Samantha." one of the girls said cheerfully.

"And I am Meara." the other one said. "I'm the smarter one." she added in a whisper while Samantha began to poke Strider's earlobe.

Another swirl of magical colors, and there stood yet another girl.

"And who are you?" Aragorn laughed. You see, the Ranger's earlobes just happened to be the only ticklish spot he had. And with Samantha poking them in her endless poking streak, he was laughing so hard he laughed instead of spoke.

And yes, I do know that that made no sense what so ever.

"I am known as Crazyrabidfangurl." the girl explained.

"Wow, if that ain't a mouthful." Sam said. "I'm known as Sam."

"If you don't mind me asking," Legolas said slowly, holding the teaspoon close to him as though Crazyrabidfangurl was about to bite it. "Who are you a crazy rabid fan girl of?"

Crazyrabidfangurl grinned. "Why, you of course!" and with that, she tackled Legolas and that poor, vulnerable, helpless, sighing teaspoon who sighed sighs that only Legolas - A trained Sigh Hearer - could hear.

"Ay yi yi." Sam moaned. "Now we shall never rescue mister Frodo from that evil Daisy, Dark, Dailight!"

"What was that, master hobbit?" Samantha asked, standing straight and tall, her poking now complete.

"I said we shall never rescue mister Frodo from that evil Daisy, Dark, Dailight!" Sam repeated.

"Never fear, young halfling!" Meara said as she placed her hands upon her hips. Samantha followed in suit, and, suddenly, both girls had bath towels flowing out behind them into the non - existent wind. "We shall help save your mister Frodo."

"Help save your mister Frodo, we shall." Samantha agreed.

"Saving your Frodo that is mister is something that we shall help the process of." Meara put in.

"The Frodo that is mister shall be saved and returned to being yours." Samantha said triumphantly.

This talking like MoJoJoJo from the PowerPuff Girls went on for quite a while, before Legolas finally told them to shut up from underneath Crazyrabidfangurl.

So, shut up they did, and all six of them skipped off into the sunset, with Meara singing about her tailless cat Pippin and it's brother Merry, which Sam found funny, Aragorn found laughable, and Legolas found annoying, since he was still under Crazyrabidfangurl.

Yes, we end this chapter with a scene of love and friendship, for that is what truly makes the world go round. If this world was with out such things, where would we be today? It is times like these that the reader often tells the author to shut the hell up because they do not want stories of love and friendship. But I am sorry, my friends. For these six people are joined together by such forces.

They shall be…the Fellowship…of the…

"Banana!" Sam cried out.

"No, teaspoon!" Legolas grunted from under Crazyrabidfangurl, who shouted. "Legolas!"

"Naw, Malteasers!" Aragorn put in.

"Stupid hobbitses!" Meara said. "Cookies shall be the name of our Fellowship!"

"How about Pencils?" Samantha asked.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" the author hissed, and the giant Monty Python foot came crashing down upon them, smothering toe jam in their hair. Except for Legolas, whose precious, silky, golden locks were saved by Crazyrabidfangurl being on top of him.

"I like pencils." the author admitted. "Has a nice ring to it. But I think I should dig deeper into my heritage and go for my ¼ Hispanic-ness."

They shall be …the Fellowship… of …MI LAPIZ!

A/N: okie dokie then! Yet another chapter! Finally. I'm really sorry folks, but yah, this story sorta lost my interest for a while, and then when cookies-will-invade said she had a depressing birthday, I thought up of a whole buncha things to un-depress her! And there they are! Happy Birthday to you, cookies-will-invade!

And this story has the second most reviews out of all of my stories. Second Generation is in first place…I really need to write more to that….I will at school…It starts for the first time in 2005 in exactly seven hours and fourty nine minutes. And I haven't finished "To Kill a Mockingbird" yet. Or my English essay. Damn.

Well, R&R!

PHE