Disclaimer: I read someone's disclaimer recently that said "Tolkien owns it, the great man whose boots we are not fit to lick." Yes, I know. But it still sounds gross to me! So I'll just say, "I don't own any of Lord of the Rings and am in no way associated with Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, the Tolkien estate or any other organization that lays claim to the script or Tolkien's work. If I did, everyone would know about this crazy fic, and then I would be famous, which I'm not. So there."

Chapter 13: the Deep Grime That's On the Sponge

As Gandalf stormed out of Denethor's sight (and consequently any esteem the Steward may still have had for him), he looked down to Pippin once again, saying, "All is turned to vain ambition! He would even use his fitness as a cloak!" and then mumbled, almost to himself, "not to mention that he already has one! And a darned furry one, too!"

That night, Pippin commented on his flashy new duds. "So, I imagine this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don't actually expect me to do any fighting!"- he changed his tone a bit and cocked his head to the side like a curious dog - "do they?"

Gandalf coughed on his pipe smoke. "You're in the service of the Steward now," he said irritably. "You'll have to do as you're told, Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel. Ridiculous hobbit," he trailed off as he nearly choked on his smoke once again. Pippin brought him some water.

Pippin looked up at the sky, and then relief dawned on his face: "There's no more coconuts. Gandalf, is it time?"

"Yes, yes, it is time," said the wizard sadly. The hobbit's randomness was growing daily.

"Stop coughing," Pippin whined. "It's too loud. You smoke too much. It's too quiet. Say something."

"It's the deep grime that's on the sponge," Gandalf replied. (Reader, keep in mind that almost everyone in this story is in some way deranged.)

"I don't want to be in a battle," the hobbit mused. "But waiting on the edge of one I can't escape is even worse." Suddenly, Pippin got a bright idea. "Gandalf, are there any trapdoors or secret passages in Minas Tirith? I CAN'T STAND THE SUSPENSE! I'VE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!"

The last part of Pippin's sentence was screamed at the top of his lungs. Leagues away, Sauron snickered.

Suddenly, a Big Scary Green Light shot up from Minas Morgul. Pippin would have screamed again if it hadn't been for Gandalf's hand over his mouth.

Thunder rolled, and red light from Orodruin answered the Witch King's query. It was all very terrifying.

Gandalf placed his hand on Pippin's shoulder. "The Witch King's email is only electronic, young hobbit. It is in the battle that the email signifies is coming that our strength is to be tested."

The next morning, there was no light: a fume and great smoke had covered the Sun. Gandalf, however, got Pippin up early. All the hobbit did, however, was roll over with a grumbled "th's tae dark tae giddup yet," and, at further goading, struck out blindly with both hands and feet at the source of his early morning irritation (namely, Gandalf). In the end, the wizard was obliged to pick the hobbit up and sling him over his back.

As soon as Pippin woke up enough to figure out that he was being carried through the streets of Minas Tirith in pajamas and with a blanket wrapped around him so that his arms were strapped to his sides, he immediately began to struggle and say things like "Mmmmaaaghhh! Bffft! Bffft maebaaanaaanaaaa!"

Gandalf finally got where he was going: the Minas Tirith Stop'n'Go gas station and convenience store. He put Pippin down on the sidewalk while he went in to get a lighter.

Pippin's eyes were just about the only thing peeking out from inside his blanket-cocoon, and they were wide open by this time. He could see feet all around him, so he figured he was on the ground once again, which he was glad for, since the ride on Gandalf's back had been rather jarring and the poor hobbit was feeling more than a bit sick.

Pippin looked around once more. As far as he could tell, if he just rolled off the sidewalk, he could likely roll downhill quite a space. He mulled over this new information. He had once gone barrel-rolling with Merry: one of them would get in the barrel at a time, and the other would push. Pippin grinned under the blankets.

"Thank you, thanks very much," Gandalf thanked the cashier as he pushed open the door and stepped outside once again – only to find that, horror of horrors – PIPPIN WAS GONE!

Suddenly, something caught his eye. Something white was just rolling out of sight down the hill. It couldn't be –

"PIPPIN! COME BACK HERE YOU RIDICULOUS HOBBIT!" Gandalf shouted as he ran. The white bundle just rolled faster. Curious Gondorian housewives lined up along the streets, and young boys chased after Gandalf in the hopes that they might see something exciting. Gandalf groaned. They were laughing, starting to catch on to the fact that a wizard was chasing after a deranged hobbit rolling down the hill in his bedclothes. Yes, it was funny, he gave them that. Ha, ha.

To make a long story short, Gandalf did catch up with him again in the end, but only when the hobbit-in-a-blanket had collided with a wall and was forced to end his flee. The wizard took him back up the streets to where he had originally meant to go.

Gandalf handed him the lighter. "Peregrin Took, there is a task now to be done. You must not fail me," he told the hobbit solemnly.

Pippin followed his gaze up. Really far up.

As he climbed the near-vertical staircase leading to the beacon, still in his pajamas, and still dragging the blanket along behind him, Pippin wondered vaguely what he was doing up here.

Author's Note: Sorry about the wait, everyone. I was... well, reading someone else's fanfic. I'm not as happy with this chapter as I have been with others, but there you go. Can't always be perfect. This may seem really short, and hardly anything happens. I know that. Hopefully the next chapter will be out very soon. It just seemed like too much to pack into one chapter, so I opted for two long ones. Hope you enjoyed.

Reviewer Responses:

Red-Devil15: You can have it! Great word, huh? Glad you loved it

randomrohanfreak: Your name is great! You must be a very dedicated person...thanks to you, I now have (fumbles about)... 47 REVIEWS! WAHOOOO! Glad to find another Python fan! And don't worry if you're random – randomness is what this is all about!

HyperLittleCat: glad you liked it! Here's an update.

fetch-thranduilion: heeheehehehehehehehe! It's all my mom's fault...hehe!

CC83: On the Italian in Chpt. 5: I know absolutely no Italian whatsoever, and I used an online translation site to get that from English to Italian. Here's what it said when I translated it back to English, using another translation service: "Who and be to seat in?" it has said the Small Bear. "And that and be to eat my oats cream?" It's supposed to be part of Goldilocks and the Three bears. Talk about lost in translation! The other (said by Gimli) is even worse: An other losing! We have thought our Friendship was indelible, but it begins to watch inedible and rather irriconoscibile!(a/n?) At first it was Gandalf, then Boromir and the Hobbit, then the other two hobbit, and now Aragorn! That we they are to make, oh that that they are we to make..." yeah...um...