Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.

In this chapter, I've kind of modeled Morgoth after Death in the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett, only less grandfatherly.

The Palantir call from his mother left Sauron in a very bad mood. She always seemed to point out his worst qualities, although when you're a Dark Lord, that's a pretty easy thing to do. Anyway, Sauron sat at the kitchen table, moodilyquaffing his coffee, which had gone cold while was talking to Mrs. Sauron's Mum. Nazgul #3 looked up from doing the dishes and tsk'd.

"Has anyone bothered to feed Ulmo lately?" he asked testily, gesturing towards to goldfish bowl. Monosyllabic replies were given, all in the negative. Nazgul #3 sighed and dried off his hands, and went to get the fish food. Ulmo the goldfish looked glum, sulking behind his new Under Water Sea Globe.

Nazgul #6 suddenly burst into the kitchen.

"I'm going to make some cookies today!" he cried. "Who wants to join me?" He beamed at the mass of hostile faces; Sauron with his cold coffee, Nazgul #9 with his cold shower, Nazgul #7 with the "exciting" prospect of the delivery of a message to Morgoth ahead of him, Nazgul #5 who just realised he had dropped a stich nine rows back and had to rip out all nine rows to fix it...

"Git," muttered Nazgul #1, brooding over his coffee.

"Fine then!" said Nazgul #6. "I'll make them all by myself!... And I won't give you any of them!" He stomped off to the pantry, and was immediately followed by Nazgul #4, 8, 9, 2, and 7.

"Where are you guys going?" Sauron growled.

"We like cookies..." Nazgul #8, who was bringing up the rear,muttered, looking down at his feet.

As the sound of six Nazgul making chocolate chip cookies reached his ears, Sauron muttered, "I was voted most likely to be an Evil Overlord in highschool for this?" Nazgul #5 shrugged, his knitting needles clicking away.

Later, after the cookies were done, Sauron sat at the kitchen table chatting with Nazgul #1 and Nazgul #4.

"Y'know," said Nazgul #1, "after all these hundreds of years of living and working together, I think we're finally becoming a team. I think we're all finally working together to be the bad guys we really are!"

"Sauron!" shouted Nazgul #6, running into the room. "Nazgul #5 won't share the TV remote and now he's starting to poke Nazgul #2 with his knitting needles!"

"Go on, Nazgul #1, I believe you were saying something funny?" Nazgul #4 said.

"You're the Witch King.," Sauron told Nazgul #1, "and they're your responsibility. You deal with it."

"It's The Witch King, actually," said Nazgul #1 testily. Hegrudgingly got up from the table and left the room, muttering, "For this I became undead??"

"You do a very good job of keeping is in line, you know," Nazgul #4 told him soothingly.

"Eh, whatever," Nazgul #1 said.

Sauron didn't even want to know what means Nazgul #1 would employ to make the other Nazgul calm down, but he knew it probably wouldn't be pretty. After five minutes, when still no sounds came from the living room, Sauron couldn't decide if this were a good thing or a bad thing. Finally, he decided to go check it out, and having nothing better to do, Nazgul #4 followed him.

They entered the living room and beheld a sight not seen every day. Eight Nazgul were sitting on the couch, or bean bag chairs, or sprawled on the floor, eyes glued to the television screen, a picture of rapt attention. Nazgul #5 had even stopped knitting to watch.

"Right, what's going on?" asked Sauron, for the second time that morning.

"Shhhh..." said Nazgul #7. "They're about to announce the winner..."

"Alright folks, your votes are in!" said the smiling announcer on the television screen. "And the winner of Middle-earth Idol is.... Peregrin Took!"

Nazgul #5, 6, 3, 8, and 9 clapped and cheered along with the crowd on the TV. Nazgul #1 sighed and looked at his feet, and #7 turned to #2 and said, "It should have been that Elf chick, you know?" Nazgul #2 nooded glumly.

Sauron threw his hands into the air in disgust, and took the fact that the door bell was ringing as an excuse to leave the room.

Hearrived atBarad-dur's front door, the still bell ringing persistently. "Alright, I'm here!" he said opening the door. He was faced by a woman with a huge smile.

"Hi!" she said in an annoyingly cheerful voice. "Would you like your home remodeled? If so, then we at-"

"Not interested," Sauron said, slamming the door shut. The door bell rang again, and Sauron opened the door, and this time saw a man.

"If you ever need financial help-"

"Not interested," Sauron repeated, slamming the door again. The door-bell rang a third time.

"I said, not interested, you slimylittle-" He stopped. "Oh... Hi, Morgoth..."

GO ON, SAURON, Morgoth said. WHAT WERE YOU ABOUT TO CALL ME?

"Nothing... ah... I thought you were a salesman," Sauron said.

MANY HAVE MADE THAT MISTAKE IN THE PAST, Morgoth assured Sauron.

"Really?"

THEY'RE ALL DEAD.

"Oh..." Sauron said. "So... what's up, dude?"

I WANT MY PALM PALANTIR BACK, said Morgoth. GIVE IT TO ME. NOW.

"Um... Why don't you come in..." Sauron said, wondering how Morgoth would fit through the door, seeing as he was at least 37 feet tall. But, by some ancient magick, the senior Dark Lord was able to duck through the door and follow Sauron the the kitchen.

Morgoth sat down at the table and reached for the plate of cookies. MM, CHOCOLATE CHIP, he said, biting into one. MY FAVORITE! There was a pause as he finished the cookie. OK, he said when it was done. MY PALM PALANTIR, SAURON. GIVE IT TO ME NOW!

"Yeah, just let me get it," Sauron muttered distractedly. When he was out of ear-shot of the kitchen, he muttered, "Mr. I'm-so-smart-I-came-before-you-so-I'm-better-Ha-Ha-Ha!"

I HEARD THAT, Morgoth's voice boomed. I AM OMNISCIENT, YOU KNOW.

'Bugger,' thought Sauron. "You'd better not eat all the cookies!" he called, and made his way back to the living room.

When he got there, he found all nine Nazgul still glued to the tube. Nazgul #8 was drooling slightly. "Guys, bad news..." he began. No reaction. Sauron paused, and suddenly shouted, "PI IS EXACTLY THREE!!!"

Nazgul #9, a big one for math, gasped. "What?!" he cried. All the other Nazgul turned to look at Sauron in disbelief.

"Well, I'm sorry it had to come to that," Sauron said. "But now that I have your attention, I have some very bad news."

"What is it?" asked Nazgul #2.

Sauron looked around, leaned towards the Nazgul, and said in a low voice, "Uh.. Orgoth-may is-ay ere-hay!"

There was a pause. "Come again?" asked Nazgul #5.

"Morgoth is here!" Sauron hissed. "In the kitchen!"

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, "ILUVATAR SAVE US!!" cried Nazgul #6. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIIEEEE!!!!"

"Oh, shut up!" Nazgul #4 snapped, whacking Nazgul #6 with a TV guide.

"Guys, quite down," Sauron said. "Morgoth wants his Palm Palantir back. But the thing is-"

"Oh, just give it to him then!" Nazgul #7 exclaimed. "That should be easy!"

"Uh..." Sauron said, his voice even lower. "The thing is... I lost it, but Morgoth's omniscient, so don't-"

YES, I AM OMNISCIENT. Morgoth's great voice filled the air. AND IT GREATLY DISPLEASES ME THAT YOU HAVE LOST MY PALM PALANTIR. I SHALL WAIT HERE UNTIL YOU FIND IT, AND IF YOU DO NOT FIND IT SOON, THERE WILL BE TROUBLE.

"Oh, what can you do about it?" shouted Sauron, frustrated.

I CAN TELL MANWE ON YOU, Morgoth said.

"Ok, ok, I'll find the damn Palm Palantir!" Sauron yelled. "Just give me some time!"

I'LL BE WAITING, Morgoth said grimly.

"Help me!" Sauron said to the Nazgul pleadingly.

"Whatever you say, Boss Man!" Nazgul #3 said.

"Yeah," added Nazgul #2, nodding earnestly.

"Oh, Eru help me!" Sauron sobbed.