Disclaimer: I don't own LoTR, M.S.S., or Monty Python.

****************************************

            "Dealer takes three cards," announced Saruman.

            "Two," muttered Wormtongue.

            "Truly, I need no new cards, for I have a royal flush.  Allah has condemned your cards.  They are stupid, and they are condemned."

            Saruman brought his fingers together in front of his face and brooded.  He could not do anything until Gandalf made the first move, so he had played poker to alleviate the tension.  Al-Sahaf had a natural talent for poker, much in the same way that orcs had a natural talent for ballet.  Now there was a mental image he could do without.  Saruman shuddered as he placed his bet of two torches and called.  Why torches?  Well, they didn't have much of anything else to bet, and strip poker was right out.

            Wormtongue laid down a full house, Saruman showed his four aces (there are advantages to being a wizard), and al-Sahaf had a very unimpressive pair of fives.  Saruman would have collected his rightful winnings, but after four games, he knew it would be useless.

            "Once again, by God, I am victorious!"  Al-Sahaf rejoiced in his winnings and then strode over to a window.  "Look at the strong walls, industrious machinery, and astonishing beauty of Isengard.  Even now, the enemy has retreated.  The cowards have gone to commit suicide.  I triple-guarantee, those infidel trees will be no problem."

            Now Wormtongue was not a brave man, and he knew how to be patient and bide his time, but he had had enough with being silent while this dotard spouted lies.

            "Those are no ordinary trees!  They are the most cruel, foul, and ill-tempered creatures you ever laid eyes on!  They are killers.  Earlier today, one grabbed me off my horse and forced me to cross a river in which I almost drowned.  So go and confront those Ents, if you think yourself a man of valor, for death awaits you with nasty, leafy branches!"

            "Do not worry, my friend," smiled Muhammed cheerfully, "we will butcher them."  Wormtongue had never wanted to bitch-slap anyone, even Éomer, more in his entire life.  He grabbed the front of al-Sahaf's uniform and pulled him closer to the window.

            "Look outside," he hissed through clenched teeth, "and see how everything is ruined.  All that remains are pieces of wreckage floating in pools of slimy water and loose slabs of what used to be masterful stonework."

            "The enemy is not even within 100 miles of Isengard. They are not in any
place. This is an illusion ... they are trying to sell to you an illusion. You cannot believe in an illusion."  As Wormtongue looked at al-Sahaf's earnest face, he knew he could not hit the Iraqi.  It would be like kicking a puppy; fun, but ultimately pointless and liable to get your feet covered in dog hair.  On second thought, maybe that was not the best analogy.  Wormtongue threw up his hands in frustration and grabbed the pack of cards from Saruman to go play solitaire in a corner.  Well, he would have done that, but the round tower had no edges.  Some architects just had no consideration.

            Saruman looked at his companions and sighed.  He was an Istar, a Maia, one of the most wise and powerful beings in Middle-Earth, and he was trapped with an Iraqi with rose-colored glasses permanently welded to his head, and a slimy soothsayer who was attempting to build a corner out of discarded torches in order to cheat at solitaire in privacy.  When a powerful voice at Orthanc's entrance commanded him to come forth, he almost welcomed it.  "Let them come," he thought to himself, "We will butcher them."

. . . To be continued

*********************************

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers!

French Pony – Thank you for being my first reviewer.  I will try to avoid the pitfalls you mentioned, and the chapters will be a little longer from now on.  Hmm, I've never played gin rummy before.  I'll have to go look for the rules.

Giantgreenbird – I'm glad you find it funny, but I'm sorry about your knee and elbow.  *hands you e-bandaids*

Hana – Being compared to Pratchett is the highest compliment I could ask for.  I actually read The Light Fantastic a few hours before starting this fic, and I was trying to keep that kind of humor in mind.

MetaChi – Thanks.  This fic is the product of getting an Instant Message with the address of that site while I was reading LoTR fanfiction.

Chélynne – Another comparison to Discworld?  Thanks, I was trying for that.  *floats on cloud 9*  FF.net can be odd about that at times.

Midnightelf – Thanks, I will.

LioraJean – Thanks, I hope so.

Queen Isis – The chapters should be longer from now on.  Thanks.

Fortis Maga – As I understand it, it is forbidden to have a fic that is primarily about a real person, such as an actor.  I am writing a parody using the on-screen persona of a public figure.  I have seen numerous humor or parody fics on this site in which George Bush or another public figure will make an appearance, and there is not a problem.