Chapter Three: Dastardly Acts of Evil

Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were running around in their search for the army of Super Sporks. "Hey, look!" said Aragorn. "I smell so bad that even the flies are keeping away from me!"

"And I thought my gas was pretty lethal..." Gimli muttered.

"Aragorn, why don't you just bathe?" asked Legolas, the expert on grooming. "It would do everyone a lot of good!"

"Shut your trap, elf boy."

"No, I won't shut my trap! Not until you clean up!"

"I can't bathe until I'm king!" Aragorn explained in frustration. "I made a vow when I became a Ranger and went out into the wild, okay?"

Legolas was not listening, however, as he was busy braiding his hair.

"Stupid elf."

"Hey, I think the Super Sporks are speeding up," Gimli commented.

"Oh. They must have caught our scent or something," said Aragorn.

"Of course they have!" exclaimed Legolas. "You reek so bad that it can be smelled from a mile away! Which is another reason why you should bathe!"

Aragorn crossed his arms defiantly. "Well I'm sorry if it's causing everyone problems, but I refuse! Now Legolas, go over and try to see where those Super Sporks are headed.

"Why should I do it?"

"You have the best eyesight?"

The elf blushed modestly. "Well yes, actually I do! Alright, fine. I'll go over and have a look." Legolas leaned forward, trying to see. He ended up leaning too far and fell flat on his face. "Ouchies!"

Aragorn and Gimli laughed so hard that they nearly exploded.

Legolas angrily got to his feet and anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. He and his two companions then started running again.

Aragorn suddenly tripped over something. "Hey! What was that?" He picked up Pippin's brooch. "Hey, this thing looks kind of familiar..."

"That's because you have one just like it!" Legolas snapped irritably.

Aragorn looked down at the brooch on his cloak. "Oh yeah. Well, I don't know what this means, but we should hurry."

"But I'm hungry!" Gimli complained. "And tired!"

"Well too bad!" Aragorn gave Gimli a shove in the back. "Now go faster!"

oOoOoOoOo

Meanwhile, in the dastardly land of Isengard, Skittleman the Many Colored was having a Destructo-Fest. "Kill all the trees!" he ordered.

Suddenly, an irritating environmentalist Spork popped up and screamed, "NOOOO! THOSE TREES HAVE A RIGHT TO LIVE! SAVE THE TREES! PROTECT THE FOREST! SAVE THE-" He was promptly killed by Skittleman. "Stupid treehugging environmentalist..."

"I agree, master," said a Spork.

"Shut your mouth," said Skittleman.

In his foggy and mysterious past, Skittleman had once been a lumberjack for a time. It was this that helped make him the vicious tree killer that he had become. Once a lumberjack, always a lumberjack, as the saying goes.

Skittleman was watching everything from inside his tree-house. "This is my greatest act of evil ever!"

"Really, Mr. Skittleman?" asked Sam.

Skittleman gasped and did several double-takes. "How the heck did you get here?"

"I was endowed with teleporting powers!" the Magical Hob replied cheerfully. "I don't know how it happened, but it's pretty cool!"

"You're being very disruptive."

Sam's face fell. "I am, Mr. Skittleman?"

"Don't call me Mr. Skittleman."

"Sorry, Mr. Skittleman.

Skittleman sighed. "Just get out of here now!" He grabbed a fly swatter and started chasing Sam around the tree-house with it.

"Eep!" squealed Sam. "By rights I shouldn't even be here!" He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Skittleman summoned a group of Sporks over to him. "We need to improve the security. Magical Hobs are finding their way in here."

"Yes, master!"

"Now where was I...?" muttered Skittleman. "Oh yes, I have to go brainwash some wild men." He climbed down the tree-house and approached a group of filthy, ranting wild people. "Hello, dearly beloved citizens of Uncivilizedville! Those people of Horseyland are jerks, and therefore you should kill them!"

"Aye! Great idear!" and the wild men formed an angry mob and ran away. The angry mob eventually found a pathetic, completely defenseless village and proceeded in slaughtering everyone.

A random village woman and her random village children ran outside. "You must leave, children!" said the woman. "Our village is pathetic and completely defenseless, mainly because our warriors all became pacifists! Now ride away on the horse!"

"We can't!" replied her daughter. "We had to eat our horse, remember? Because our warriors aren't fighters anymore, it also means that they refuse to hunt!"

"Oh yes, that's right," said the mother. "Well, then you can ride on this old man's back!" She grabbed an innocent old man and put her kids on him.

Her son whipped the man with a piece of frayed rope. "Giddy-up you old codger!" The two children rode away on the old man, and their pathetic, completely defenseless village became nonexistent.

Skittleman watched the whole entire thing in his burnt donut. "Mwahahaha! Soon, all of Horseyland shall be destroyed!"

"Why is it so necessary to ruin Horseyland?" a Spork asked.

"How dare you say that, you blasphemer?" Skittleman flung a rock at the Spork's head.

"Ow..." the Spork moaned. "I'm sorry..." He slumped over in a faint.

Skittleman took a bag of Skittles out of his pocket of his robes and began to eat them. "Skittles... Taste the rainbow."

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