Chapter two: El Cheapo "fire"
A few minutes later
Frodo opened his eyes and found that he was sinking through some sort of red fluid. He
was alive, obviously, but why wasn't he dead? This "fire" stuff was such a fake. But
the Ring was gone. The chain was still there, choking him, as usual, but the Ring itself
had disintegrated into the "fire".
"Mr. Frodo!" yelled Sam, though it sounded quite muffled. "You're alive!"
Frodo nodded, not sure if he should open his mouth, just in case this substance was
toxic. He looked around. Merry and Pippin were quite startled, but unhurt. Gimli was
unsuccessfully hacking away at the substance. Gandalf was raising and lowering his staff,
with no avail. Legolas was sobbing, for some odd reason. Actually, if you paid close
attention, you could hear his wailing voice: "My hair. . . no. . . my beautiful hair,
submerged in poison!" he hiccupped. "All of it, ruined! No. . ." Aragorn was neither
sobbing, nor hacking, nor raising or lowering anything. He just looked thoughtful.
Everyone continued sinking. . . and sinking. Pippin had started to count the number of
rocks they passed on their way down. Fifty-six million two hundred thousand and one,
fifty-six million two hundred thousand and two. . . Merry had decided to name them: Fred, Bob, Jack, Oatmeal. . .
Just when all of them had started to doze off from boredom, they hit the bottom. Everyone
groaned, rubbing their sore butts. Well, with the exception of Gimli, who had fallen on
his head. They were so busy complaining about their state of pain that they didn't
notice that the "fire" was gone, or that they sat (or sprawled in pain) on a big wooden
bench, in a field with people walking around. There were also people sitting on other
benches. Everyone within hearing distance was regarding them with distaste and giving
them a wide berth. Aragorn was the first to notice. And when he did, he nearly hit the
roof, or rather, the sky.
"Where are we?!?!"
Legolas looked around. He noticed that the people around here dressed very differently. "Hey!" he said. "There are no elves anywhere! Nor anyone at all with pointy ears!"
"Thank goodness." said Aragorn.
"I resent that!" said everyone with pointy ears.
Gandalf took out his pipe. "Go ahead and resent everything you want. But keep in mind
that we still haven't figured out where we are!!"
"Chill, old man." Said Pippin. "You need to calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. . .
yes, good job!"
"We're not in Middle-Earth." Commented Frodo.
All the other hobbits pounced on him at once. "WHAT?!?!"
"And you think Gandalf needs to chill?" Aragorn muttered.
Frodo continued. "Well, everyone in Middle-Earth knows about Sauron and are afraid to
walk around weaponless in open areas. Now, look at these people; their clothes are so
tight and small you'd be able to see if a sword was sticking out or if they were
carrying a bow and arrow thing. And look at this place! You can see some sort of
poisonous stuff in the air. Middle-Earth is much cleaner. Well, the Shire is, anyway."
Gandalf shook his head in wonder. "I admire your observation, Frodo, but WHERE ARE
WE?!?!"
Frodo didn't know. Pippin decided to go ask people for directions back to Middle-Earth.
Being a hobbit, he came only up to people's waists. Not a good thing if you're trying
to get someone else's attention.
Frodo, Sam, and Merry decided to take out their pipes and make smoke rings. Legolas
rolled his eyes, wondering how they could stand the smell of pipe-weed.
Disclaimer: Yes, this is a horrible place to end a chapter. But I couldn't figure out
where else to stop. Read on to find out how the Fellowship meets a "fine" police guy.
A few minutes later
Frodo opened his eyes and found that he was sinking through some sort of red fluid. He
was alive, obviously, but why wasn't he dead? This "fire" stuff was such a fake. But
the Ring was gone. The chain was still there, choking him, as usual, but the Ring itself
had disintegrated into the "fire".
"Mr. Frodo!" yelled Sam, though it sounded quite muffled. "You're alive!"
Frodo nodded, not sure if he should open his mouth, just in case this substance was
toxic. He looked around. Merry and Pippin were quite startled, but unhurt. Gimli was
unsuccessfully hacking away at the substance. Gandalf was raising and lowering his staff,
with no avail. Legolas was sobbing, for some odd reason. Actually, if you paid close
attention, you could hear his wailing voice: "My hair. . . no. . . my beautiful hair,
submerged in poison!" he hiccupped. "All of it, ruined! No. . ." Aragorn was neither
sobbing, nor hacking, nor raising or lowering anything. He just looked thoughtful.
Everyone continued sinking. . . and sinking. Pippin had started to count the number of
rocks they passed on their way down. Fifty-six million two hundred thousand and one,
fifty-six million two hundred thousand and two. . . Merry had decided to name them: Fred, Bob, Jack, Oatmeal. . .
Just when all of them had started to doze off from boredom, they hit the bottom. Everyone
groaned, rubbing their sore butts. Well, with the exception of Gimli, who had fallen on
his head. They were so busy complaining about their state of pain that they didn't
notice that the "fire" was gone, or that they sat (or sprawled in pain) on a big wooden
bench, in a field with people walking around. There were also people sitting on other
benches. Everyone within hearing distance was regarding them with distaste and giving
them a wide berth. Aragorn was the first to notice. And when he did, he nearly hit the
roof, or rather, the sky.
"Where are we?!?!"
Legolas looked around. He noticed that the people around here dressed very differently. "Hey!" he said. "There are no elves anywhere! Nor anyone at all with pointy ears!"
"Thank goodness." said Aragorn.
"I resent that!" said everyone with pointy ears.
Gandalf took out his pipe. "Go ahead and resent everything you want. But keep in mind
that we still haven't figured out where we are!!"
"Chill, old man." Said Pippin. "You need to calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. . .
yes, good job!"
"We're not in Middle-Earth." Commented Frodo.
All the other hobbits pounced on him at once. "WHAT?!?!"
"And you think Gandalf needs to chill?" Aragorn muttered.
Frodo continued. "Well, everyone in Middle-Earth knows about Sauron and are afraid to
walk around weaponless in open areas. Now, look at these people; their clothes are so
tight and small you'd be able to see if a sword was sticking out or if they were
carrying a bow and arrow thing. And look at this place! You can see some sort of
poisonous stuff in the air. Middle-Earth is much cleaner. Well, the Shire is, anyway."
Gandalf shook his head in wonder. "I admire your observation, Frodo, but WHERE ARE
WE?!?!"
Frodo didn't know. Pippin decided to go ask people for directions back to Middle-Earth.
Being a hobbit, he came only up to people's waists. Not a good thing if you're trying
to get someone else's attention.
Frodo, Sam, and Merry decided to take out their pipes and make smoke rings. Legolas
rolled his eyes, wondering how they could stand the smell of pipe-weed.
Disclaimer: Yes, this is a horrible place to end a chapter. But I couldn't figure out
where else to stop. Read on to find out how the Fellowship meets a "fine" police guy.
