Chapter Two

A Rum Argument

Legolas had had enough.

Edging away from Hermione, he managed to get halfway to Merry's pony before she tackled him, cooing, "Ah-ah-ah, Legolas… you're staying with me."

Legolas launched into a small temper tantrum, digging his fingers into the ground and desperately clawing toward the saddlebags, where he knew there was a bottle of rum stored. No matter how hard he kicked and screamed, the blasted girl refused to relinquish the hold she had on his ankles.

Curses.

Harry watched in mild amusement as Legolas kicked Hermione off and scrabbled on all fours toward the pony, making strange noises and generally looking for all the world like a deranged cow.

"I don't think he likes Hermione," he muttered to Ron, who nodded sagely in agreement.

Ripping open the saddlebag, Legolas stuffed his face into the worn interior of the large pocket, and screamed in agony.

"WHY IS THE RUM GONE?"

His question to the heavens was answered by a loud hiccup from the edge of the clearing, and a sharp, nasal voice belting out something rather… disturbing.

"My preshioush… tshey have shtolen my pre…preshioush… ssssshhhhhh…nashty hobbitshesh… shlice dem and dishe dem… "

Frodo looked to Sam, who in turn looked to Merry, who in turn looked to Pippin, who just so happened to be fast asleep.

"Merry," Frodo whispered, "Remember that bet we had on never seeing Smeagol again?"

Merry nodded.

"Fork it over, Merry."

Gollum seemed to have heard that.

"WHAT'SH THAT? HOBBITSHES? GOLLUM HEARSH NASHTY HOBBITSHESH! SHALL…KILL…HOBBITSHES!"

With a tipsy scream of outrage, Gollum weaved and stumbled his way towards the small circle of people, clutching a pocketknife in his shriveled little hand.

The same small circle of people watched him blunder by and begin whacking a nearby tree with the handle of the shut knife.

"Nashty hobbitshesh… shervesh you right for shtealing Gollum'sh preshioush…"

Harry was torn between clubbing the little thing into unconsciousness or capturing him and giving him to Draco as a token of hatred.

He was just on the verge of conjuring up a large net when a blur of glass and paper whizzed by his head and smashed to pieces on the back of Gollum's thick, bony head.

Gollum grinned stupidly, muttering, "Oooooh… shtarshiesh are pretty," and collapsed, beginning to blissfully chase ring-bearing goblins through the mines of Mordor as he blacked out.

This was quickly followed by a very, very angry Legolas, who, in his calmest voice, proceeded to happily scream obscenities at the unconscious little raisin-like man. Again, by Ron's definition.

Frodo, Sam, and Hermione all leapt to their feet in an attempt to restrain the enraged Legolas. Unfortunately, before they could reach him and pin him down properly, a certain someone muttered a certain something, aiming their wand at the very, very tall, very, very blond figure making its way toward Gollum.

Legolas was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Hermione froze, then screamed. "LEGOLAS!"

So did Nita and Dairine.

All three girls sprinted toward the fallen Elf in what looked to be the makings of another promising catfight and game of Rip-Legolas-Limb-from-Limb.

Ron, his wand still out, muttered "Zea Mays Mays," and, instantaneously, a large bag of hot, buttered popcorn appeared in his arms, and he settled back to watch the match.

Kit, however, had other ideas.

"LOOK," he bellowed. "ORLANDO BLOOM!"

All three girls froze in their tracks, about to converge on the giddily snoring Elf, and wheeled around.

"THERE HE GOES, INTO THE FOREST! GET HIM!"

With squeals of delight, and a few exchanged slaps and shoves, the girls hurtled into the forest and were lost to sight.

Ron looked disappointed and tossed a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth. Through a mouthful of the crunchy goodness, he said in a muffled voice, "Fo. Nah what? I mean…"

Without warning, Ron sneezed.

Kit, Harry, Frodo, Pippen, and Sam were instantly hit with a nice, wet explosion of half-digested popcorn bits as they sprayed from Ron's mouth at close to 80 miles an hour.

The hobbits (sans Frodo) and Kit screamed and clawed violently at the small amorphous patch of soggy yellow that clung determinedly to their faces.

Frodo, on the other hand, had been trying the Ring on again. Harry, squinting, could make out his face and part of his clothing, courtesy of the soggy popcorn shards that enveloped his face.

Harry looked disgusted and wondered why on earth glasses didn't have wipers as he used his wand to cleanse the popcorn splatters from his face, robes, and glasses.

Wearing an embarrassed look on his face, Ron sniffed and muttered an apology as Kit, followed closely by the Hobbits, made a mad dash for the river, trying desperately not to vomit.

Harry looked nauseously at Ron. "Did you have to do that?" he inquired over the loud splash from behind them.

Ron tried his best to look innocent and thank the fates that it wasn't Hermione in the river behind him. Were it, she'd never let him live it down.

Frodo wiped the popcorn from his face and followed Kit toward the river, muttering about wizards and magical food from nowhere.

Legolas snored on, oblivious to the fact that popcorn kernels had infested his wonderfully blond hair.

Thank God.

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A/N: I dunno whether this was funny or not… I need a bit of feedback, folks. Next chapter, Kit's gonna try and get them all out of the cursed Middle Earth. Do they:

End up in the heart of New York? End up in the British Countryside? End up at Hogwarts?

You choose. I need feedback on this, because the next chapter (and how soon it is created) depends on it. 5 more reviews!

Thanks.