Author's note: I am well aware that the actual words are the "'bomp' in the 'bomp-a-bomp-a-bomp'" as our resident Oldies aficionado dutifully informed us, but I like my version better. So there meh.
THE LORD OF THE RINGTONES – THE E-COMMUNITY OF THE RINGTONE
BOOK TWO– CHAPTER ONE – THE NEXTEL OF ELROND
Frodo awoke in a bed. It was a rather sizable bed, and he did recognize it or his surroundings. Where was he? What time was it? And who put the "bop" in the "bop-she-bop-she-bop"?
"You are in Rivendell at the house of Elrond," Gandalf answered when Frodo voiced his queries. "It is ten AM on October the 25th. As far as your final question, I would like to know as well. Who was that man? I'd like to shake his hand. He made my baby fall in love with me."
Frodo's face lit up. "Gandalf!"
"Yes," Gandalf smiled. "I'm here. And you're lucky to be here, after all the shenanigans you have gotten yourself into."
"Where's Sam?" Frodo asked. "And Merry and Pippin and Speeder? And why didn't you meet us at the Holiday Inn Express?"
"Everyone is here," Gandalf responded. "As far as the Holiday Inn Express goes… I was delayed. It nearly sent us down the tube, but it did not."
"How?" Frodo was quite curious.
"I shall tell you later," Gandalf said evenly. "For now—"
"Frodo!" Sam rushed into the room and grabbed his friend's hand. "Bless you, you're awake!"
Gandalf chuckled. "Sam has hardly left your side since we've been here."
Sam nodded. "We've been very worried about you, Mr. Frodo!"
A tall, lean gentleman who made everyone who'd seen The Matrix involuntarily shudder entered the room. "Mr. And—er, Mr. Baggins," he said severely.
Frodo swallowed hard. Sweet Alaskan asparagus tips, he sounds like Agent Smith!
Agent Smith's look-alike smiled. "I am Elrond. Welcome to Rivendell."
An hour later, Elrond sat on the balcony waiting Gandalf. Before he saw the wizard, however, he found his daughter walking by. "Arwen!" he called after her. "Come!"
Arwen came, looking as though she already knew the topic of discussion. "Yes, Ada-day?"
Elrond looked at Arwen gravely (that is, more gravely than usual). "Why did you try to go in place of Glorfindel?"
Arwen gave a sigh of frustration. "Oh, Father. I just wanted to—"
"Show everyone that everything the boys can do, you can do better," Elrond finished in a rather ungrammatical fashion to prove his point. "Arwen, we have discussed this at length."
"But Father!" Arwen protested. "When I called upon the water, it ran over the Drivers!"
Elrond's eyes widened. "Arwen… when was this?"
"Two days ago," Arwen responded smugly.
Elrond couldn't help laughing. "Arwen!"
Arwen looked hurt. "What?"
"Your nephew didn't believe the waters were really at my command," Elrond chuckled. "I decided to show him."
After lengthy boringness, several people gathered in the main courtyard. Every race of Middle-Earth was represented. There was Legolas of Mirkwood, a pretty-boy Elf with a large fangirl following; Gimli, a grizzled dwarf with a smaller following of comic-relief fans; Boromir, a mortal man with very few fans at all; and lots of others who were mainly eye candy.
Once they were all settled, they looked at each other and whipped out their Nextel phones.
Elrond: Bleep "Tone?"
Frodo: Bleep "Here." He put it on the table in the middle.
Legolas: Bleep "Do?"
Gimli: Bleep "Destroy!"
All: Bleep "Destroy!"
Legolas: Bleep "Where?"
Gandalf: Bleep "Mordor."
All: Bleep "Mordor!"
Elrond: Bleep "Who?"
Legolas: Bleep "Me!"
Gimli: Bleep "No!"
Boromir: Bleep "Me!"
All: Bleep "NO!"
Frodo: Bleep "Me."
Elrond: Bleep "You."
All: Bleep "Him?"
Aragorn: Bleep "Sword."
Legolas: Bleep "Bow."
Gimli: Bleep "Axe."
Boromir: Bleep "Other sword."
Sam: Bleep "Me!"
Merry and Pippin: Bleep "Us!"
Elrond: Bleep "Nine."
Pippin: Bleep "Great."
Elrond: Bleep "Done."
Elrond, Gandalf, and Aragorn waited until everyone else had left to caucus amongst themselves.
"Well, so it is. Nine shall set out from Rivendell, the hobbit with the Ringtone," Elrond mused slowly.
"It was a wise choice. The Tone couldn't have a better bearer," Gandalf replied.
"The path he will take is longer, larger, and more arduous than…" Elrond paused, searching for a fitting metaphor.
Gandalf had one. "Your forehead?" he suggested.
Elrond just glared. "Your nose, perhaps."
"How about both combined?" Aragorn suggested, slightly amused at the mental image.
"At any rate, not just anyone can do it," a rather annoyed Elrond followed up.
"It's a good thing we didn't choose just anyone," Gandalf replied, staring vacantly where Frodo had been sitting.
Frodo left the meeting with a heavy heart. He was just beginning to realize what he agreed to, and he was having doubts about whether or not he was up to the task. However, a familiar figure sitting on a bench bent over a book startled him, pushing his morbid thoughts far from him.
"Bilbo!" he cried.
Bilbo looked up and smiled. "My dear boy! How have you been?" he exclaimed.
"Actually, not so great. I was mortally wounded by the most feared creature on the face of the planet and have to go face hordes of enemies and almost certain death with only eight other people," Frodo explained.
"Good, good!" Bilbo said warmly, putting his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "Come, I have something to give you."
Frodo wondered if his uncle's hearing was what it used to be, but he never was one to turn down free stuff. Instead of explaining the gravity of his situation, he smiled condescendingly and followed his uncle to his room.
Upon reaching his room, Bilbo scuttled over to a large chest at the foot of his bed. "Here!" he exclaimed, pulling out a small gray canister and handing it to Frodo, bubbling over with excitement. "Take it, take it!"
Frodo took it and eyed it over. Elvish lettering covered both sides, and a small button and a smaller hole sat menacingly atop the can. He almost dropped it when it began to glow blue, but he caught himself in time, looking at Bilbo for an explanation.
"This is Sting! It served me well on my adventures, and may it serve you well in yours. You aim the hole at whatever you want to go away, press the button, and away it goes! It is commonly known as pepper spray, but I think 'Sting' has a certain ring to it. Don't you? Anyway, it used to glow blue whenever dorcs drew near, but the dorc sensor has since broken. Now it just blinks. There are those who claim it is to the rhythm of the Star Wars theme, but I for one never looked that closely." The old hobbit giggled in excitement.
Frodo was unable to get a word in edgewise throughout his uncle's entire spiel, so he just smiled and nodded, pocketing his new stuffs.
But Bilbo wasn't done. He reached back into the chest and pulled out a large, pink, heavy-looking vest. "Look! Isn't it beautiful? Here, here, try it on!"
Frodo dubiously eyed the pink monstrosity. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.
"It's a Kevlar vest. Made by the Elves out of the finest dwarven Kevlar." He sighed dreamily.
Frodo tried it on to make his uncle happy. He felt ridiculous. "Do I have to keep the bunny hood?" he asked nervously.
"No, no. There's a little pouch you can tuck that into. It'll help you on your quest. You never know what will happen."
Frodo wasn't sure he wanted to know what would happen if he went around in his pink vest, but he knew a Kevlar vest would undoubtedly come in handy. He lifted it over his head and tightened it, convincing himself he could wear it under his other clothes. His shirts were too big, anyway.
As Frodo was struggling with his vest, Bilbo noticed the golden cellular phone clipped to Frodo's belt. "My old phone…" he said dreamily. "I would much like to hold it again."
Frodo stopped fiddling with his vest and slowly backed away.
Sensing that he would be rejected, Bilbo became furious. He reached forward, hissed, and did his best Nick Nolte mug shot impression.
Frodo turned and almost ran out of the room when he heard Bilbo sobbing. "Oh, Frodo, I'm so sorry. Will you please forgive me?"
Frodo, although still a bit frightened, found that he could not remain angry with the old man.
"Here, I'll make it up to you. Come with me. I want you to see something," Bilbo said, beginning to get excited again.
Frodo removed his new vest and followed, unsure of what to expect.
Night was falling, and bright neon signs lit up many parts of Rivendell. Frodo found the whole business a bit overwhelming, but he just followed Bilbo. After much wandering, they found themselves in front of a large building entitled "Arrie-kay's Araoke-kay Arty-pay."
"What is this place?" Frodo asked incredulously.
"It's a karaoke club," Bilbo exclaimed. "Don't worry; they're much better than the ones in the Shire. These Elves really know how to sing."
Frodo was a bit dubious. He still had bad dreams about the time he braved to enter the Shire's only karaoke studio. But he trusted Bilbo, so he followed him in.
The atmosphere was very much like that of a coffee house. Large, overstuffed, comfortable chairs were placed randomly throughout the room surrounding small, round tables depicting images of important people. He and Bilbo found a large, squishy sofa far away from the speakers and sat down.
Many Elves came up to sing, and most of them were quite good. Only a few of the songs were in pure Elvish (hey, you try singing in pig latin), but those that were had a haunting, magical tone to them.
There were many songs of nature,
I see skies of blue... clouds of white,
Bright blessed days...dark sacred nights,
And I think to myself...what a wonderful Middle-Earth.
of love,
Don't care who you are,
Where you're from,
What you did,
As long as you love me.
and of both.
Let me tell ya 'bout the birds and the bees,
And the flowers and the trees,
And the moon up above,
And a thing called "Love"
There were tales of great Elvish kings,
He's quick! He's funny!
He makes me lots of money!
Gil-galad! Gil-galad!
and of high adventure beyond the sea.
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip.
That started from this tropic port,
Aboard this tiny ship.
The mate was a mighty sailin' man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers set sail that day,
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour…
And the topics of some philosophers philosophize about to this day.
Bye, bye Miss Gondorian Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry,
An' them good ol' he-Elfs, drinkin' whiskey and rye,
Singin' this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die.
The melodious Elves, the warm, stuffy room, and Frodo's weariness caught up to him. He curled up into a ball, purposely ignoring the sign over the entrance that read "Ease-play eep-kay our-yay oes-shay off-hay e-thay urnature-fay," and fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Glorfindel sat in a gazebo looking wistfully at the Rivendell scenery. He usually visited the karaoke club on a nearly-daily basis, but he didn't feel up to it this evening. Legolas, who happened to pass by, noticed the other Elf in his forlorn state.
"Glorfindel? What's wrong?"
"Oh… well, it's not much, really. It's just that… Arwen tried to steal my job earlier today. I managed to stop her this time, but there's a movie coming out soon. I only know of this from the talk of others, and it wasn't easy. They don't mention it when I'm around. I think the movie's not including me, but giving Arwen a rather large part."
"Arwen? Can she act?" Legolas pondered.
"Not really. There was competition, but it all seems to have disappeared. Anyway, I suspect the part she will get is mine. It's a bit depressing, actually. After all I do, the majority of people won't know or care of my existence.…" Glorfindel sighed.
"Cheer up, Glorfindel. Always look on the bright side of life. This could be a good thing," Legolas comforted.
Glorfindel looked up. "How would you know? You're in the movie! You have fangirls!"
"You have fangirls, too," Legolas smiled.
"I do? What do you mean?"
"Truly obsessed female book-fans will notice your absence and the fact that Arwen, one of the most minor characters in the book, took your place. They will get so mad at that fact that they'll start to love you. And while, I'll admit, I get the majority of the fangirls, yours are the ones who are true to the books. I'm actually rather jealous," Leggy explained.
"Do I get a cute pet-name like yours?" Glorfindel queried.
Suddenly, a brown-haired girl decked out in camouflage gear and clutching a camera, a notebook, and a well-worn dog-eared English-Elvish dictionary jumped out from the bushes. "Glorfy!" she squeaked.
Glorfindel blinked, smiled, and got up. "Hello. I am Glorfindel of Rivendell. Would you like a signature?"
The girl nearly fainted.
Legolas smiled at the pair and shook his head. Some people are satisfied with so little… he mused as he wandered off.
