Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue!
Námo looked around the Circle of Doom and saw that most of the other Valar were present. "Greetings to you all. I hereby call the three hundred and twenty-ninth meeting of the Emergency Illuminations Committee to order. As usual, the first item on our agenda is apologies. Vána has already informed me that she will not be gracing us with her presence, but where is Oromë?"
At that precise moment Oromë dashed into the Circle accompanied by his favourite hound, which promptly sprawled at Yavanna's feet. "So sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?"
"Not yet," Námo said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. "Where was I? Oh yes, item two: the minutes of our last meeting. Do you all agree that they are accurate?"
Varda looked apologetically at Vairë, the secretary. "I hate to quibble, but I thought I was wearing my pink hat that day, not the blue one with the yellow and white flower pattern."
Námo turned bright red and glared at Varda for this attempt to insult his wife's minute-taking ability, but before he could reply Varda spoke again. "Sorry Vairë, my mistake. I remember now - I changed hats when the meeting started because the pink clashed with Manwë's shoes." Varda glanced fondly over at her husband, who was paying absolutely no attention to the discussion. Vairë smiled graciously and resumed weaving.
Deciding it was time to get the meeting back on track, Námo moved on to the third item: the shape of the last fruit of Telperion. It was a highly contentious issue, but was eventually put to the vote with a choice between a tetrahedron, a sphere and a hunting horn. The sphere won by a single vote.
The meeting had already taken twice as long as it should, so Námo ignored item four (how to prevent giant spiders attacking the new lights) and moved on to item five: any other business. "You wanted to say something, didn't you Aulë?"
Aulë fidgeted and looked embarrassed. "Well Námo," he muttered, "it's about the three hundred and twenty-fifth meeting, when the Committee voted for that servant of mine to be the Maia in charge of the last fruit of Laurelin. There's a slight problem with that plan..."
"What?" snapped Oromë. "Talk faster. I don't have all day. I want to get back to hunting!"
"Here here," Tulkas added.
"The thing is," Aulë continued, "He went over to Melkor before Utumno fell. He calls himself Sauron now."