Chapter Twelve: And They're Off

Bilbo demanded another visit from Frodo, and so Frodo rather hesitantly went into the old man's bedroom. "Frodo my lad!" croaked Bilbo.

"Oh great," Frodo whined. "Now I have to humor the old guy."

"Frodo, I have gifts for you!"

Frodo's eyes lit up. "Gifts? YIPPEE!" He began bouncing around the room excitedly.

"FRODO, CALM DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

"Sorry."

Bilbo shoved something into Frodo's hand. "Here is Gift Number One. It is an Elven blade, named Sting!"

Frodo looked down at the object in his hands. "Er, Bilbo? This is no Elven blade! It's just a plastic butter knife!"

"Of course it's not! It's a fine sword!"

"YOU STUPID SENILE OLD MAN! IT IS A BUTTER KNIFE!"

Bilbo laughed. "Silly boy! Whatever gave you that idea? Now where did I put your other gift?" He fumbled around for about ten minutes and then discovered that it had been in his hand the whole time. "Ah, here it is. Gift Number Two! A mithril shirt!" He handed it to Frodo.

Frodo looked rather disturbed. "Bilbo, this is... ladies lingerie!"

"Oh, come now! No it isn't! It's a mail shirt of mithril! Hard as dragon scales!"

"Bilbo, it's ladies lingerie! How in the world did you obtain this anyway?"

Meanwhile, Arwen was tearing her whole room apart looking for something. "Where did my best lingerie go? Where?"

"Well, um, thanks for the gifts, Bilbo!" Frodo said hastily. "I'll be leaving now!" He quickly headed towards the door, but Bilbo stopped him.

"Wait! First, you have to take off your shirt!"

"EEW! You sick old man!"

"No, you fool! I didn't mean it like that!" Bilbo explained. "It's so you can try on your mithril- er, lingerie." One of his eyes twitched violently, and then the other. "And I want to take that tater back once and for all!" He reached for Frodo, his eyes rolling crazily and foam pouring from his mouth.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!" Frodo ran out of Bilbo's room as fast as his Hob legs could go, and didn't go there again after that.

Meanwhile, Aragorn was about to receive a gift also. "Aragorn," Elrond announced, "the broken sword has been reforged! You may now wield Anduril!"

"Oh goody!" Aragorn cried.

Elrond gestured at the sword that lay on a table. "Go ahead. Pick it up."

Before Aragorn could take his sword, Boromir suddenly wandered into the room. "What's going on? Hey, a sword!" He picked up Anduril. "Wow, this is the sword that defeated Farmer Sauron and-" There was a sudden breaking sound, and Boromir cried out in surprise.

"Boromir!" Aragorn cried.

"Oops. Um, I think I broke it." Boromir quickly scurried away as fast as he could.

Elrond gathered up the broken fragments of the sword. "Well, I guess we'll have to give it to you at a later time."

"But I wanted it NOW!" Aragorn's tone was unmistakably whiny.

"Yes, well, you can't always have what you want. Now shoo!"

The nine companions of the fellowship overstayed their welcome and remained at Rivendell for a long time. Elrond and the other elves felt that it was longer than necessary. Gandalf at last decided that they had put off their journey for too long, and so they prepared to leave.

"Yeah! Get outta my house!" Elrond snarled.

"Fine then!" Gandalf wheezed. He gathered everyone outside and all of the Rivendell elves happily and gratefully watched then as they were about to leave.

Suddenly, Arwen came running outside. "Aragorn!"

"Arwen!" cried Aragorn.

"Aragorn!"

"Arwen!"

"Aragorn!"

"Arwen!"

"Get on with it already!" Boromir said impatiently.

Arwen looked at Aragorn sternly. "Are you wearing my Foilstar Pendant?"

"Um... Foilstar Pendant?"

"Yes!"

"Um, yeah! I sure am!"

"Then where is it?"

"Uh, well, you can't see it! It's covered up by all of my battle gear and stuff! So stop worrying about it."

Arwen didn't believe his excuse. "You're not wearing it!"

Aragorn pretended innocence. "Excuse me? Of course I am! If you'll just give me a moment to adjust this bow strap, I'll show you that I really do have it on!" He turned his back so that she couldn't see him hastily pulling the piece of string out of his pocket and quickly throwing it around his neck.

He turned around to face her. "See? Look!"

She slapped him. "You just now put it on!" She turned around and ran off in tears.

"Well that sure was a warm, friendly farewell," Aragorn muttered.

Legolas pointed and laughed. "You don't seem to have much luck with girls, do you?"

"Shut up, pointy ears."

Legolas turned his attention away from Aragorn and spent the next ten minutes poking Gimli in the back and blaming it on the Magical Hobs whenever Gimli turned around to angrily complain.

"Can we go now?" Boromir whined impatiently.

"Yeah, sure," Gandalf wheezed. He shoved Frodo. "Get going, Tater-Bearer!"

Frodo rubbed his shoulder. "Did you have to push me?" He took a few steps forward and then stopped to look confusedly around him. "Hey Gandalf, is Mulchdor to the left or right?"

"I dunno," the wizard shrugged. "Why don't you ask that weird guy over there?" He pointed at a Tater Wraith, who was standing off to the side.

"Mulchdor is to the left, you morons!" the Tater Wraith shouted. He looked nervously around him. "Um, yeah... I was never here." He quickly ran out of sight.

Frodo and his eight companions then left Rivendell and began their journey. Elrond shook his fist at them. "Good riddance!"

The fellowship walked around in a line all over the place, passing by grass, rocks, rivers, rocks, dilapidated supermarkets, trees, rocks, and rocks.

"Aaaaghhh!" gasped Boromir. "Shield... so ridiculously large and heavy! Can't... walk!"

Aragorn gave him a shove in the back. "Quit whining and pick up the pace a bit!"

"Well it's not my fault that this shield is so heavy!"

Legolas brought up the rear, busily brushing his hair and counting the strokes. "...ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!" He did a victorious little dance. "I've brushed my hair one hundred strokes!"

Gimli glared at the elf and folded his arms. "Well I could too. I just choose not to."

Aragorn shoved Legolas in the back. "Pick up the pace, blondie!"

"Hey, blondes deserve special treatment!"

Gimli laughed. "Yep. Legolas is definitely special!"

Legolas whacked Gimli with his bow. "That's not what I meant!"

"Could everyone quit arguing?" Frodo begged. "My tater is trying to talk to me and you guys are being way too loud!"

Gandalf smacked Frodo. "Frodo! What have I told you about the tater?"

"Um... it is not for eating?"

"Well, yes, that too. But what else?"

"You can boil it, mash it, or stick it in a stew?"

"Frodo, be reasonable!"

"It tastes really good next to a nice piece of fried fish?"

"NO!"

"Well then what?"

"Frodo, if the tater tries to speak to you, you must never, ever listen!"

Frodo laughed. "Silly Gandalf! Of course I know that!"

"Well then why were you listening to the tater?"

"Actually, I was trying to listen to it! So that doesn't count! Now what were you telling me again?"

Gandalf irritably bashed his staff against his own forehead. "You're hopeless, Frodo!"

"But I thought I was Center-of-Some-Planet's only hope!"

Aragorn shoved Frodo in the back. "Quit yapping and pick up the pace!"