Disclaimer: Not mine. A lot of the Al-Sahaf quotes are paraphrased from welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com. Anyone who spots the partial quote from the Simpsons (which is also not mine) gets an e-cookie. The title of this chapter was inspired by Road Signs of Middle Earth by October.
"Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" Saruman addressed the crowd with a voice like that of a kindly heart aggrieved by injuries undeserved.* Except for the kindly part, he didn't have to fake. Gríma and al-Sahaf were enough to try the patience of Ilúvatar[1]. At the moment, the two headache-inducers had moved to a different window to observe.
"What are those odd people? Do the infidels employ children, bearded midgets, and those with deformed ears? Does no one here have guns or television or tanks? Why do you ride horses and fight with swords?" Wormtongue looked at Muhammed. He was acting as if he had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere from a foreign land . . . which was perfectly reasonable in this situation. Gríma assumed the role of teacher with an air of exaggerated patience.
"The 'children' are full-sized hobbits, the bearded one is a dwarf, and the one with pointy ears is an elf. I do not know what you mean by any of those odd words. And what else would we ride or fight with? Oliphaunts and sticks? Would you have us build giant wooden rabbits and hide inside them, hoping our enemies would accept them as peace offerings?" The sarcasm completely bypassed al-Sahaf, took a u-turn, stopped at a dead end, pulled out a map, tried to get directions from Saruman's persuasiveness, and was last seen heading towards Mirkwood.
"Guns are explosive weapons. You hold one end and you point the other end at the infidel that you want to die. You pull the trigger, and a bullet flies at your enemy." The explanation was accompanied by enthusiastic hand gestures.
"Could you be any less helpful?" Ignoring Wormtongue's tone of voice, al-Sahaf continued.
"Tanks are vehicles you ride in, and they have big guns and can destroy anything in their path." Wormtongue had a vision of a cart with a large bow on the front of it being pulled by a team of Orcs.
"But how does it work? Could you build one here so we could use it to surprise and escape from those who would imprison us?"
"They work with machinery and the will of Allah. Truly, I am more familiar with television. I can stand in front of a camera and proclaim the truth that uplifts the Iraqi citizens and puts fear in the hearts of the Americans. Anyone from around the world can see me. Sadly, Al-Jazeera[2] and other networks are controlled by the American press and used to spread lies, but I am sure that the people of Iraq will see through them."
Explosive? Trigger? Bullet? Camera? Al-Jazeera? What kind of pipe-weed was this man smoking? Wormtongue needed some time to figure out what he had just been told. He looked out the window and listened to Saruman's melodious voice as the wizard tried to enthrall the company on the steps.
"It seems that you and I both use the power of speech in our professions, but we are no match for Saruman. I follow him for his power is great, and yet I hate him and wish to be free. Is it the same with your leader?" Muhammed listened spellbound to Saruman's voice. He was glad Saruman was did not have Ari Fleischer's[3] job. Maybe he wasn't sent here to help these people, but to bring back Saruman and give him a position in the Iraqi Information Ministry. Al-Sahaf dismissed the thought. Iraq was winning, so there was no need for Saruman on Earth.
"No, my leader, President Saddam Hussein, is a man of great honor and integrity, and is very much alive. But the American leader, Bush, is an insane little dwarf and a pathetic criminal. He and his Defense Minister deserve to be beaten with shoes by freedom-loving people everywhere. The American people are not stupid, they are very clever. I can't understand how such clever people came to elect such a stupid president. In truth, I speak better English than that villain Bush."
"Looks and speech can be deceiving. King Théoden, who was considered feebleminded and frail mere weeks ago stands before us strong and proud today." Wormtongue declined mentioning his part in that. Trying to stave off the bitterness he felt, Wormtongue questioned al-Sahaf. "How would the American people have control over the choice of King?"
"We have elected presidents, not kings. Our glorious leader received 100 percent of the vote, and yet that war-criminal claims in his international television speeches that he wants to free our people. But we will prevail against that lying gang of bastards!" Wormtongue looked quiet and thoughtful despite al-Sahaf's fevered victory speech.
"This television you speak of is perhaps similar to a palantír, a sphere of great power that may allow one to see to the far reaches of Middle-Earth if he is strong enough to control it." Wormtongue left the room and returned a short while later carrying a dark orb.
"Let me see it," demanded al-Sahaf, "and I will use it to tell the truth to the people throughout the land." He walked over to touch the globe, but Wormtongue snatched it away.
"It does not work in that manner. I brought it here only for you to observe." There came a loud crack from outside as Gandalf broke Saruman's staff, but neither of the dueling men noticed.
"I am trained for television. This is my reason for being here!" He lunged and managed to grab the palantír, but he could not wrest it from Wormtongue's grip.
"Let go, you overly-optimistic madman!"
"By God, it is mine!"
"You cannot control it!" Just then, al-Sahaf's hands slipped and Gríma yanked on the palantír, only to have it fly out of his grip and out the window, where it narrowly avoided creating a Gandalf pancake.
"This is all your fault!" spat Wormtongue angrily while he pointed at Muhammed. "When Saruman comes back, act like nothing happened."
The aforementioned wizard was in a foul mood as he ascended the stairs. He was still trapped, Sauron was going to be angry with him, he was no longer Saruman the White (and thus had no more use for the 50 tubs of bleach he just purchased), and his staff was broken. His mood did not improve as he entered a room to find Wormtongue whistling nonchalantly and al-Sahaf grinning like a hobbit at a buffet.
"Let us rejoice, for you have driven off the enemy. Also, the palantír is not lost. Never." Saruman's heart sank like Númenor, and he let out an ear-piercing shriek.
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*Quoted and paraphrased directly from Tolkien, TTT, The Voice of Saruman chapter.
[1] Ilúvatar, or Eru, is the creator of Middle-Earth.
[2] An Arabic satellite news channel. See www.msnbc.com/ news/ 643471.asp (take out the spaces).
[3] The White House Press Secretary
A/N: They will eventually wind up in the Shire. I plan on writing maybe three or four more chapters, and I would appreciate your input on how the story should end.
Thanks, reviewers!
French Pony – I'm glad to hear that. Hmm, al-Sahaf as a missionary. I'll consider that. There's not much of Muhammed's thought process in this one, but I will get to that, probably toward the end of the story. I want to look up articles on the psychology of pathological liars so that I have more material to work with.
Jen Littlebottom – I'm such a fan of your stories. I'm honored that you find mine funny. The bullets and shoes thing is an actual M.S.S. quote.
Ibalissi – No one expects the taunting! Their chief weapon is surprise. Thanks for not blaming me.
Beatrice – Thanks. I sure will.
Giantgreenbird – definitely one of my favorite Monty Python lines
Shadow – I can't write a convincing Iraqi accent, although perhaps that would have been a better line than "outrageous audacity". I know, I love the "elderberriez" line, but I was trying to use actual Baghdad Bob insults. It's not scary, I pretty much wrote this from memory, and then just watched the movie to double-check. My brother thinks I have a serious problem :) I'm glad you liked the line, and this fic. I'll join you in your protest.