Warning: This chapter contains a special appearance of Denethor. Prepare to be disturbed.

Chapter Fifteen: Going to the Secret Lair

As the people at Helm's Shack threw confetti in the air, ate cake, and danced around happily, Aragorn was floating in some river like an old and particularly filthy log. He opened his eyes and realized where he was. "AAAAAGGGGGHHHH! WATER! It's clean! Get it away!" He started twitching. "Must erase cleanliness!"

He quickly climbed out the river and started rolling around in a pile of dirt. "Ahh... Much better."

His horse whinnied at him loudly, which was horse language for "Get going already, you lazy good-for-nothing hobo!"

"Alright, alright. I had to de-cleanse myself, okay?" Aragorn got up, climbed onto his horse, and rode away.

oOoOoOo

In Rivendell, Arwen was in her room moping and crying her eyes out and Elrond was vigorously exercising his eyebrows, which is a sight that often frightens young children, puppies, and the elderly. "Arwen, you must go to the Land of Stuff that Refuses to Die! Do it now!"

"Aww... I don't feel like it!" Arwen whined in a whiny little girl voice.

Elrond's eyebrows danced around on his forehead disturbingly. "You must go with your people, with your elves!"

Using his ever so useful teleporting powers, Sam appeared in the room with an ecstatic expression on his face. "ELVES? Did somebody just mention elves?"

"Er, yeah, I did," Elrond admitted.

Sam jumped for joy and gazed at Elrond and Arwen. "Me go and see elves and all! Hooray!" He continued to stare at the two of them and wouldn't stop. He wasn't even blinking, which was pretty scary.

"Um, could you please leave?" Elrond asked. "You're being very disturbing."

"Aww," Sam pouted. "All right then. But can I have a cookie?"

"Sure. As long as it gets you to leave." Elrond handed Sam a cookie and Sam disappeared.

"You know, that's the second time that Magical Hob has suddenly popped up in here," said Arwen. "What is up with that?"

"I don't know, but back to business. You can't stay here. Since Aragorn probably won't come back, that means you probably won't get married, which means I'll never get rid of you! So you've got to go!"

"You're mean!" Arwen whined. "Okay, I'll go!" She ran outside where there were a group of elves with lanterns in theirs hands.

The elves gazed at their lanterns in awe. "Our lanterns are so shiny and pretty!" The lantern oil spilled over and burned them. "OW!"

oOoOoOo

With a popping noise, Sam appeared back in Ithilien, standing next to Frodo. He had a cookie in his hand and started nibbling it. "Yum... chocolate chip..."

"Hey, where did you get that cookie, Sam?" Frodo asked.

"Uh... nowhere!"

Faramir and the Super-Duper Cool Rangers walked over to them. "Come on Magical Hobs, it's time to follow the book now," said Faramir. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

Faramir shushed him. "Stop talking Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit and come see The Window on the West, and then you can go on a Journey to the Cross-roads."

"Just because you're using chapter titles in your sentences doesn't mean you're following the book, you know," Frodo pointed out. "It doesn't count."

"All right, all right. Just come." Faramir started walking and the hobbits followed them. "I just now realized that I forgot to introduce myself!" Faramir realized. He stopped walking. "Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you two. I am Faramir, Captain of Gone-Door, and I am the best character in this weird story!"

"Ahem!" said Frodo, giving a slight cough.

"Sorry. I mean, I'm the best character, aside from the Magical Hobs."

"That's better," said Frodo. "My name is Frodo Baggins and this is Samwise Gamgee. We are Magical Hobs of the Pretty Green Secluded Area and down over in Hobton we hang out in the Green Dragon and the Gaffer always says..."

Frodo went and babbled on for a while, while Faramir forced to keep his eyes open. "...and then that one time when the harvest was good and then the Gaffer said this and that and in the spring of three years ago..."

"Would you be quiet already?" Faramir asked.

Frodo promptly shut up. "Sure. Sorry, Magical Hobs tend to ramble on like that."

"That's all right," said Faramir. "Anyway, what are you doing and where did you come from?"

"We're going to Mulchdor," Frodo said. "We were in a fellowship of nine companions but then we ran away. Oh, and one of the guys we were with was named Boromir. I don't know why, but do you think that could be significant?"

Faramir gasped. "Boromir!"

"Yes, Boromir."

"Boromir?"

"Yes, Boromir."

"Boromir?"

"YES!" Frodo shouted.

"Boromir was my brother and my father likes him a lot better than he likes me," Faramir explained. "Boromir's dead though, so maybe I'll get some more attention. I doubt it though, because my father is completely crazy."

oOoOoOo

Meanwhile, in Minas Tirith, Denethor was sitting at his table eating chicken. He was stabbing the chicken viciously with his knife. "Die, chicken! Die! You're trying to take my stewardship away from me! I know you are! Well you know what? You never will! Haha!" He continued to stab at the chicken.

"My lord, is that necessary?" a servant asked.

"OF COURSE IT IS!" Denethor waved his knife in the servant's direction. "How dare you ask me such a question?"

"Eek!" The servant ran off, terrified. Denethor scowled, twitched a couple of times, and went back to stabbing his chicken.

oOoOoOo

"Yep, my father is probably the craziest person in the whole entire world," Faramir said.

"Wow, I feel sorry for you," said Sam. "If that guy was my father, I would run away from home and become a hobo."

"I tried that once," said Faramir, "but some other hobo attacked me because I was sleeping in his trash can. So anyway, now we all know who are we are! Hooray! I love bonding. Oh, and who is that skinny little thing that was with you earlier? Was he a squirrel? Or a kingfisher? Or maybe a roasted porkchop or an old sock?"

"What?" said Sam.

"How the heck could Thingum possibly look like a squirrel or a kingfisher?" Frodo asked.

Faramir shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me. Maybe I inherited a little bit of insanity from my father. But I'm still the coolest character around here!" Frodo and Sam glared at him. "Um... along with you guys. Now come. We're going to my secret lair, the Chamber of Pretty Waterfalls and Even Prettier Faramirs."

"Is that really what's called?" Frodo asked.

"Well, that's what I call it," he confessed. "But most people just call it the Secretive Secret Lair of Secrets."

"Why do you need a secret lair?" Sam asked. "Are you an outlaw who is hiding from the sheriff of Nottingham?"

"What?"

"Never mind."