Sorry this chap took so long but, I have lots of other stories I'm working on. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter! BTW, if K.V. (you know who you are!) is reading this, the fake email is not based on anything you send me, nor should you feel your emails are being mocked. I don't own any LotR things that are mentioned here (SIGH).

So, it's about ten o'clock, and my mom is up, watching like a hawk, though not disguising it really well, of how I handle Legolas and Aragorn. I catch her looking out the windows then turning away when we're outside, she walks through the room we're in for no real reason, she knocks on the door and asks "How's it going?". You know, obvious stuff. Anyway, they are getting along fine in the house and in the yard, and now we're sitting on the front porch, watching Dolly bounce around on her ground tether, and of course, I'm explaining about, the inevitable, cars.

"So, you're saying that even though they are expensive and dangerous, nearly every person has one?" Aragorn asks.

"No, you see, it's more complicated than-"

"Aragorn, when 'cars' are used, people can cover hundreds of miles in a day!"

"Exactly, Legolas, so you see, Aragorn, that-"

"Sorry to interrupt, Aubrey, but still, if they cause so many deaths,-"

"Look, they are an improvement from a horse."

"Are you saying something against horses?"

"No, but, Aubrey, didn't you say that they are machines and don't eat?"

"Well, there is a fuel needed, but-"
"Aha, so with a fuel, there is also waste, and-"

"And you know all about waste, right, human?"
"Look, just because I'm not an insensitive Elf that doesn't know about death-"

"Guys, guys, there are both pros and cons about-"

"Oh, insensitive am I?"

"Pointy-eared pompous pretty-prince!"

"At least I don't resort to name-calling, dirty mortal!"

"Oh, go whine to your dear old father!"

"At least I have one!"

"At least I can approach a girl without her running away, screaming!"

"Oh, bring that old event up, will you!"

"You're just a-"

"SHUT UP!" Geez, I hate yelling. Still, at least it got their attention, and probably the attention of everyone else in the county. "Look, let's discuss something else, okay? Cars are just things that people use for transportation today. You'll get used to the sight of them eventually. Say, how about a-"

"Um, Aubrey, there's a car pulling into your, uh…"

"Driveway, Aragorn." I smile and walk over to my brother, Davis's car. I guess I should warn him before he sees, oh, too late.

"Aubrey, what the…?"

"Davis, it's all very complicated, but please, bear with me. Remember that you always claimed you saw the cat get sucked into the TV that one time? Well, it's kind of reverse of that…"

An hour later, Davis is chatting away with Legolas and Aragorn. Well, not chatting necessarily. I would be hoping that my brother, with all the potential he has of being a gentleman, would engage our visitors in deep conversation, asking about the culture, politics, and geography of the land from which they came. However, the conversation goes more like this:

"Nice knife," Davis says.

"Thanks," Aragorn says.

"Betcha skinned a lot of animals with that thing."

"Oh, yes."

And, to my horror, they both spit in approval. AAUgh, it's like a hellish nightmare knowing that, even though Aragorn was perhaps the most dignified and respected man in all of Middle-Earth, he's spitting, just like my dodo-head of a brother.

"Aburey?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"I was wondering, pray, what type of tree is that? It's certainly not like any I have ever seen before." He points up to the radio tower that stands behind our house a ways, that always has a blinking red light on the top.

"Oh, that's not a tree. It's a tall tower thing made of metal."

"Oh. And, what is it for?"

"It, well, it-" How can I explain when I don't really know a whole heck of a lot about radio waves and towers?

"I'll tell you later," I answer. I feel as I though I'm talking to a little girl who just found a box of tampons and asked what they were for.

"Aubrey, look!" Legolas exclaims. He points across our lawn to the golf course on the other side of the road. People have been playing all day, but I guess neither of the visitors took notice of them. We watch as the first person hits the ball towards the flag, and the ball goes way off course and lands on the road. Much profanity is heard, and I have a strong urge to cover Legolas' ears.

"Aubrey, what does that mean?" he asks me.

Again, I answer with, "I'll tell you later."

Davis suggests we go inside. Wait a minute, weren't they just talking about a knife? And yes, Aragorn has attached his knife sheath to the outside of his jeans pant leg, and I can't believe I didn't notice it. Oh well, let him look tacky.

Inside, I decide to check my e-mail. Please, something besides another Fanfiction review alert. I don't mind them, but it seems like they post every little piece of information in confusing patterns like "fmilsdfw2324mnet ipenai 222 openemailfanfivfwfwmaolsystemalert--;/-" all over the screen, and then, if you can find the review, it's in teensy weensy font no bigger than this: haha. Good job. Luv it. Can't wait 'til next chap. I love reviews and everything, but it just is so frustrating!

"Aubrey? Why is your face all red?" Aragorn is standing next to me, and I meekly cool down. I open my email account, and hooray, there's a little note from my friend Kristy:

Hi! Wazup, Aubrey? Nothin much goin on down here. School sucks. Yeah, bit of a bummer, but theres a really cute guy here. Lol. I think he likes me but I'm not really sure.  Like, anyway, I saw jeff at the pool yesterday with his arm around Katie what'sherface, and they were all flirtin and stuff, and I was totally to angie, "omg, get a load of that" and she was all like "omg, like, omg." So, yeah.. Talk atcha later, hon. –Kristy."

"What is all of that about?" Aragorn asks.

"Well, Kristy wanted to talk to me."

"Really? May I talk to her?"

This should be amusing. "Okay."

Aragorn sits in the computer chair, and clears his throat. "Ahem, Kristy, is it? Well, dear Lady Kristy, please learn to speak intelligently to your good friend. She is so kind, that she deserves grammatically correct notes. And furthermore…" Aragorn stops, turning to see me on the ground, laughing, crying and clutching my sides. Oh, man, they will never understand technology.