"This lack of reviews is making me depressed, Stephano," Duffano told her.

"Pansy," Stephano muttered.

Duffano didn't hear her, and continued, "I'm starting to lose my creative drive."

"Loser," Stephano muttered.

"I mean, if no one is reading this, why even bother?" Duffano was too caught up in her self pity to notice Stephano's asides.

"Twit."

"I like gratification! Without gratification I lose interest. I mean, why should I bother writing-" Duffano suddenly noticed Stephano miming throwing up in the trash bin. "Why are you-"

"Well, come on, aren't you going to disclaim it already?" Stephano interrupted quickly.

Being the idiot she was, Duffano switched tracks immediately. "Alright, so here's the new chapter. Only the metaphorical translation is ours, the rest is Tolkien's. Please review!"


Chapter Three

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a very special edition of The Price is Right!" Bob Barker yelled into his microphone. The studio audience cheered.

"Alright, bear with us people," Stephano muttered to the readers. "We've never actually watched a full episode, so we're basically just winging it here."

"Oh yes," Duffano said, "And we don't own The Price is right or Bob Barker. CBS owns The Price is Right and Bob Barker's soul."

Bob Barker continued, "Our two contestants today are Gandalf and Saruman, very respected men in the antique and museum worlds. We shall see if they measure up to The Price is Right!" The audience cheered again.

Gandalf and Saruman were at their places at the booths where they would guess the prices of the items Bob Barker presented.

"We own none of these products!" Duffano shouted.

"Our first product is a Gateway Notebook with Intel® Centrino™ Mobile Technology, with Intel® Centrino™ mobile technology with interrelated Intel® Pentium® M processor 725, Intel® 855GM chipset, Intel® PRO/Wireless 2200BG network connection (802.11b/g) and extended battery life capability. Also with 512MB PC2700 DDR SoDIMM for multitasking power, expandable to 1.5GB; 400MHz frontside bus, 2MB L2 cache and 1.6GHz processor speed, Multiformat DVD±RW/CD-RW drive," Bob Barker said, and the computer rolled out onto the stage. "Now, gentlemen, name that price!"

Saruman and Gandalf both peered at the computer, and then scribbled figures down on their screen madly. "Now let's see whose price is right!" The numbers blinked into existence on the screens attached to the front of their booths. Gandalf's read $2,000. Saruman's read $1,500. "And Saruman wins! The actual price was $1,199.99. Congratulations Saruman! Come on down!"

Saruman joined Bob Barker onstage, looking evilly delighted. Gandalf began looking for escape routes.

"So, Saruman, you get to play our game! Please, spin the wheel, to find out what you can win."

"I don't think that's how it works," Duffano muttered.

"I don't care," Stephano said. "This is a parody. They come in with low expectations, so it really doesn't matter if we get this wrong."

Saruman spun the wheel. All present watched with bated breath. Gandalf began inching towards a window.

The wheel stopped.

Everyone looked at it.

It read, "The power to throw all adversaries into a dungeon." Gandalf swore. And then the guards swooped down on him and dragged him off to a dungeon.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall! Ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"


"MERRY! PIPPIN! Would you please SHUT UP?"

Merry smiled wickedly. "Oh Pip, I forgot where I was. Do you remember?"

Pippin returned smile likewise. "Nope. Haven't got a clue. Guess we have to restart," he replied.

"NO!" Frodo and Sam screamed.

But they had already begun again. "Nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand nine-hundred-ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand nine-hundred-ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, nine-hundred-ninety-nine thousand nine-hundred-ninety-EIGHT bottles of beer on the wall…."

"Oh God," Sam muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

SEVEN HOURS LATER

"Four bottles of beer on the wall, four bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, three bottles of beer on the wall!"

By this time Frodo was dead eyed and had shut down all sensory functions except those required by driving. Sam was curled into the fetal position on his seat, whimpering.

"Sounds like what you do when we discuss that there's more to the story," Duffano said to Stephano.

"Three bottles of beer on the wall, three bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, two bottles of beer on the wall! Two bottles of beer on the wall, two bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, one more bottle of beer on the wall! One bottle of beer on the wall, one bottle of beer! Take it down, pass it around, NO MORE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!"

"AND THANK GOD FOR THAT!" Frodo shouted.

Completely unfazed by this, Pippin looked out the window and pointed, bouncing in his seat. "Look, Frodo! A Motel 6! Let's stay there! Huh, huh, can we, can we?"

"Whatever."

Joining Pippin in looking out the window, Merry began bouncing as well. "And there's a Pizza Hut next door to it! I'm hungry Frodo; can we eat there? Please, please? Pretty pretty please with chocolate syrup and a cherry on top?"

"We don't own Pizza Hut," Stephano said.

"I wish we did…" Duffano muttered dreamily.

"Yes, fine, sure, whatever," Frodo snapped.

"YAY!" Merry and Pippin shouted in unison, high-fiving each other.

Moments later, they pulled into the Pizza Hut parking lot. Merry and Pippin bounded out of the car, and waited by the door, bouncing on the balls of their feet like excited puppies. Frodo followed in a more sedate manner, right after coaxing a trembling Sam from the passenger seat.

They were seated quickly. Frodo made the mistake of letting Merry and Pippin order. When the waitress came to their table, Merry rattled off an obscenely large order. "Two large orders of breadsticks, three orders of chicken wings, six side salads, three pitchers of root beer, four large pizzas (one pepperoni, one sausage, one cheese, one Hawaiian), and four personal pizzas (one anchovies, one mushrooms, one olives, one green peppers)."

Frodo stared at him. "You're pitching in with the bill," he informed Merry.

Of course, it was two hours before all of their food was ready. Merry and Pippin dug in hungrily when it came, tearing through the appetizers, two of the pizzas, and two of the personal pizzas in the space of about two minutes. Sam and Frodo suddenly lost their appetites while watching them, and only managed a slice apiece. So Merry and Pippin ate the rest.

As they were waiting for the bill, Sam nudged Frodo. "Frodo, that man over there is staring at you."

Most of the obnoxious fangirls in the readers started drooling. The other fangirls said, "Staring because Elijah Wood is SOOO HOTTTTTTTTT!"

"Oh God, just leave now," Duffano said, resisting the urge to vomit.

Frodo tapped the waitress's arm as she brought the bill. "Excuse me, but could you tell me who that man is?" he asked, pointing.

She looked to where he was pointing, and paled visibly. "That's Strider. He's one of those hunters," she told him in a hushed voice. "He comes in here every week with half a deer and insists that we make him a venison pizza."

Frodo glanced nervously back at the hunter's fatigue clad man in the back of the restaurant. Frodo suddenly noticed the shotgun resting beside the man. "Thank you," he squeaked to the waitress. She smiled and left. He began stroking the One Really Expensive Ring subconsciously.

"She's kinda hot," Pippin said, watching her.

"Oh for heaven's sakes, Pippin. Could you stop thinking with your genitalia for two minutes?" Sam snapped.

Pippin ignored him, and followed the waitress. Several minutes later, they caught a snatch of the flirtatious conversation. "And Frodo wouldn't do for you, because he hasn't even lost his virginity yet!"

Frodo catapulted out of his chair. "PIPPIN!" he yelled. He slipped, and fell backwards. The One Really Expensive Ring flew into the air. Strider made a movement towards his shotgun, as if about to shoot it. As Frodo reached up to catch the ring, it slipped onto his finger. A shaft of light reflected off of the facets of the One Really Expensive Ring, and temporarily blinded everyone in the restaurant. Hurriedly, Frodo took off the ring, and ran out of the building.

Strider followed him. Frodo was sitting on the hood of Gandalf's car. Strider grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him off. "AHHHHHHHHHHH! DON'T RAPE ME!" Frodo screamed.

"Oh shut up, I'm not going to rape you, you pansy," Strider snapped. "I've come to scold you."

"Wha- what?" Frodo stammered, confused.

Strider dragged him across to the Motel 6, and up to the room Strider had. Strider shoved him towards the bed. Frodo began screaming again. "SHUT UP!" Strider roared. "I'm not going to rape you!"

"Okay…. Then what do you want?"

"A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry."

"Yay stealing lines from the movie," Stephano muttered.

Frodo feigned innocence. "Ring? What ring? I don't have any rings."

Strider gave him a knowing look. "I said trinket, not ring."

Frodo paled. "Um…" he said.

The door burst open. Sam was brandishing his fists, and yelling, "HANDS OFF HIM YOU CREEP! I'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!"

Strider laughed at him. "Calm down. I'm not doing anything to him. As I have already explained to him, I am not raping him."

Sam put his arms down. "Oh. Okay then." He entered the room. Merry and Pippin entered the room a minute later, out of breath and puffing.

"You could have waited for us, Sam," Pippin complained, clutching at a stitch in his side.

"Yeah, it took us a while to pay the bill because my creditor didn't think it was actually me buying it. So we had to go through the whole process, and it was a real pain," Merry complained.

"I don't know why he thinks its odd," Pippin said to Merry. "That's the eighteenth time we've done an order like that."

"So is he raping Frodo or what?" Merry asked.

"I'm not raping Frodo!" Strider snapped.

"Oh. Okay."


"Is anyone else a little freaked out that we're all sleeping in the same bed?" Merry whispered later that night.

For they were all indeed sleeping in one bed, in Strider's room. He was sitting in a chair by the window. The window looked out over the Pizza Hut parking lot.

"Just shut up, Merry," Sam snapped.

"I'm just saying…"

"Well don't!"

Strider watched as four hearses rolled into the Pizza Hut parking lot. "Hey Frodo, do you like your car?" he asked.

"It's Gandalf's. Why?" Frodo said, getting out of bed and joining Strider at the window.

Strider pointed to the hearses. Men dressed all in black got out of them, and converged on the station wagon. They seemed to be rigging some sort of device…

BOOM!

The station wagon exploded.

"HOLY SHIT!" Frodo yelled.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin all sat up. "What was that?" Pippin asked.

"Sauron's hit men, the Nazgul, the Nine Black Hearse Drivers, just blew up your car," Strider told him.

"Why do the sheets feel damp?" Merry wondered aloud. He looked over at Pippin. "PIP!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry!" Pippin wailed. "It was just loud… and I lost control…"

"Oh just get out of the bed!" Merry yelled, shoving him out of the bed, and jumping out after him. "That was- absolutely- disgusting!"

"But why'd they blow up the car?" Frodo asked Strider.

"I put some deer limbs in your seats, to make it look like you were in the car. Since it's dark out, and the windows are tinted, they couldn't tell that they were pieces of venison. So they blew it up, to kill you," Strider explained.

"Hey, wait a minute," Merry said to Sam. "You told me this was just a road trip! You said nothing about mob bosses, and hit men, and exploding cars!"

"I told you it was a road trip to stop the apocalypse," Sam snapped. "What did you think that meant?"

"I don't know what the apocalypse is!" Merry said.

"Well we're going to stop it," Sam snapped.

"Fabulous. Absolutely freaking fabulous," Merry muttered.

"YAY! WE'RE DONE WITH THE CHAPTER!" Duffano yelled.

"Just so that we can finally update?" Stephano asked

"Precisely!" Duffano said cheerfully.

Stephano shrugged. "Oh well. They don't expect much from us, do they?"

"Nope!"

"It's a spoof, who says it has to be well written?"

The Tolkien Purists yelled, "WE DO! WE DO!"

"YOU DON'T COUNT AS PEOPLE!" Duffano yelled at them.

"Alright, let's wrap this up, Duffano," Stephano said. "I think we've pissed enough people off already with our slacking ways and poor writing skills."