A/N: Senseless plot bunnies strike!! Evil plot bunnies! Evil, I say! I went ahead and wrote this to tide everyone over, and to celebrate the fact that I only have two chapters left of my novel! Yay, me! So, I guess it's a win-win situation. If you like it, please review, and if you do, please don't curse!! Co-written with Alu.
"A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, shaking his head. Frodo had just volunteered to take the Ring to Mordor.
"What?" Frodo asked, looking scared and confused.
"I said, 'A nice pickle we have landed ourselves in, Mr. Frodo'," Sam repeated.
Frodo grabbed Sam by the collar. "How?"
"Mr. Frodo, are you all right?"
"How did we land in a pickle, Sam?" Frodo yelled.
Now Sam was confused. "I don't rightly know, Mr. Frodo!"
"When did you start planting pickles?!" Frodo shouted, looking terrified.
Legolas stared at them. "You can't."
Frodo dropped Sam. "What do you mean?"
"You can't plant pickles," Legolas said.
"Well, why not?" Sam retorted indignantly.
"Because – hmmm." The Elven Prince looked at Aragorn. "Ai, Aragorn! Why can't you plant pickles?"
Aragorn gave him a funny look. "Why do you want to know?"
"I just do."
Aragorn gave him an even funnier look. "Does this have something to do with Hobbits?"
"Actually…yes, it does."
Aragorn sighed. "I thought so."
Sam suddenly got a desperate look on his face. "Please don't tell Gandalf that we landed in a pickle. He might turn us into somethin'…unnatural."
"I doubt that," Legolas said insincerely, staring sidelong at Gandalf, who was talking heatedly with Elrond, his eyebrows bouncing like an inexperienced rider on a very experienced horse.
Out of the blue, a Dark Rider rode up on a horse (no one knows how it survived the flood of the ford), held out a gauntleted hand at Legolas, and said in a whispery voice, "Give up the Halfling, She-Elf!"
"Hey!" Legolas shouted. "I'm a man! I mean, I'm a male Elf!" He glared daggers at the Ringwraith. "I resent you saying that."
"Sorry. I just thought – "
"Don't worry about it," Aragorn said. He edged up closer to the Ringwraith and said in a very loud stage whisper, "He is a girl."
"Do you actually realize what you said?" Elrond asked. "He is a girl? He?"
Aragorn blushed.
Just then, Arwen Undomiel strode into the room, her long gown dragging the floor, a tray with glasses and a pitcher of water in her hands. Her face was twisted into a look of utter confusion. "Daddy?" she asked slowly. "Why is there a Ringwraith in the middle of your council?"
"I don't really know, dear."
The Ringwraith noticed that Arwen was a female Elf. He turned his horse to her, stuck his hand out, and said, "Give up the Halfling, She-Elf!"
Arwen screamed, sounding like one of those women in scary movies made in the fifties, and dropped her tray.
"My Halflings!" Boromir cried. He grabbed Pippin and Merry and ran off with them.
As he was being carried away, Pippin called back, "I still want to know why you can't plant pickles!"
And the remaining Council members – and the Ringwraith – stared at each other.
"He's right," the Ringwraith hissed after a few moments of silence. "Why can't you plant pickles?"
"I don't know, but you can land in them!" Sam replied.
A/N: Just a bunch of insane randomness, I'm afraid, due to my sister's assistance. Hope you liked it!