A/N: A humorous fic about the tendencies of fangirls. I was once a fangirl, you know, so don't claw my eyes out. But it is rather laughable how stupid we girls get when confronted with a large, handsomely delicious hunk of mandom, like Adam Pascal (in RENT) or Johnny Depp (as Jack Sparrow, not Willy Wonka). So here – a tidbit of brain junk food. I'm putting this in Crossovers, but if it is incorrectly placed please let me know – in a REVIEW! (heh, hint, heh)

Detective Amanda Balezca Billage was sitting at her desk when the phone rang. She was writing a note at the time, with much curliness and loopiness. Her handwriting was rather girly, but she herself most certainly wasn't.

A sign on the desk read, Detective Amanda Billage, specializing in cases involving murdered men that are hot. As the sign indicated, Amanda specialized in cases involving murdered men that are (or were, rather) hot. Especially when evidence indicated that the murders had been committed by teenage girls.

If she had known where this first phone call would lead, she would never have picked up the phone.

"Hello, Detective Billage speaking," Amanda said into the speaker.

"Hello? Hello? This is Arwen speaking? I'm afraid I have a case to report."

"Hm," said Amanda descriptively. She spat out her pipe and flourished a pen from somewhere in her sleeve. "Could you give me some details?"

"I think it's best you come over at once," said the quavering voice on the line, "The house is on Rivendell Avenue," and then it cut off. Amanda hung up the phone and picked up her pipe, a briefcase, and…a hairbrush. Then she strolled out the door, flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, and walked down the street to Rivendell Avenue.

There had been a rising amount of murders of men in the vicinity, most notably Harry Potter, last week, and Faramir, day before last. It was strange. Amanda wondered if there was some sort of pattern. She brought her notes, in case these three murders had something in common.

The house was obvious. Crime tape had already been erected around it, and the gardens were very flowery. So was the large house that reared up in front of Amanda. She looked it up and down and took some notes. "Very large. Seemingly made out of flowers. Cost estimate: 10 grand or more. Ask further later." She tucked the note in her pocket.

It was obvious who the bereaved widow was. She came rushing out of the house veiled in black but wearing a pale purple and red striped dress. 'Hideous,' thought Amanda critically. 'Terrible color clashing.'

"Oh, detective, I'm so glad you're here," sobbed the woman, sinking to her knees. Amanda puffed on her pipe and stared up at the woman. Even kneeling, she was head and shoulders taller. Amanda's height was something of a sensitive subject. "My husband…I can hardly believe it. He was late coming home from being king – that's his job, you know – and so I went out to look for him, and there he was, lying there dead, and now I have to wander in the trees alone until I die because all of the elves are gone and I don't know what to do and I am panicking and oh my detective what do I do!"

Amanda slapped the woman once, twice, hard across both cheeks, then walked by her into the yard. She had no time for tears. There was a case to solve.

Almost entirely covered by crime tape, face down in the gravel, lay the victim. She yanked the crime tape out of the way and stared down at the dead man, toeing him critically with her right foot.

"Yep, he's dead all right," she concurred. There was general nodding and murmurs of assent. "Hm," added Amanda as she observed the body and flipped it over onto his back unceremoniously. "Yes, yes. Very interesting. Very interesting indeed."

The body was entirely naked, and thrown in the dirt by his head was a strange silver amulet, trampled into the gravel by many feet. His face was frozen in an expression of horror and surprise. They must have come on him at once. There were many cuts and abrasions all over his torso, most especially his face and neck. They looked like…bites. They looked like bites. Amanda took her pipe out of her mouth, and put it back in again. "Hm," she expressed. "It looks like some sort of creature attack. Like a badger, but smaller mouthed. And less sharp of teeth. Strange though. This looks exactly like the other bodies discovered recently. Very strange indeed. I think we have a case. Were there any more clues?"

"There was this," some policemen said uncertainly. "It was a note. We found it on the body."

"Hm," Amanda suggested. "Let me see." She snatched it away, opened the complexly origamic folds, and read:

Dear Arwen,

Ha ha!

Signed, All of Us

"Hmmmm," Amanda said again. "Very strange. Very mysterious. I shall have to look into this. Send the body to the lab to look for fingerprints or…anything. I will look into this further. Shortly."

On her way out, after pocketing the note, Amanda slapped Arwen again, just because. Sobs followed her to the ornately metalworked gate, wound almost completely over with crime tape.

'I'm going to have to do something about that,' Amanda thought. 'Those officers are getting too crime tape happy. It happened with the last bunch, too. Maybe its something with the water.'

To be continued…