"Hey, Duffano, did you know that some people actually thought the last chapter was well written?" Stephano asked, as she read the reviews.
"Well that's weird," Duffano said, glancing at the reviews. "Because we thought it was a big hunk of crap. Hence it being labeled 'The Crap Chapter.'"
"It's all because of the Price is Right bit," Stephano complained. "DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" She shook her fist indiscriminately at the ceiling.
"Stephano, you can't blame Bob Barker for everything."
"Oh yes I can!"
"Stephano, Bob Barker didn't burn your toast this morning. You did."
"… I don't care!"
"Oh shut up and go put the batteries back in the smoke alarm," Duffano snapped. Stephano obeyed, grumbling. "Okay folks, you know the drill. We are not J.R.R. Tolkien, and we are not New Line Cinemas, so we have absolutely no legal claim to Lord of the Rings. And the FBI should be appearing at our door any minute now."
The readers hear sirens in the background. Stephano reappears in the room. "Duffano, is that the FBI?" she asked.
"Er," Duffano said. "Maybe."
"Ah." Stephano locked the door.
There is pounding on the door. "Open up in there! Lordy Duffano and Stephano, you are under arrest for violation of the copyright laws of the United States of America!"
"Wow," Duffano said. "You'd think they'd at least know our real names."
"Well, considering we aren't actually two different people, and merely two sides of the author's personality…."
This statement caused such confusion that a rip in the space-time continuum formed, and sucked the FBI into an unnamed oblivion.
Yep. The whole damn organization.
Duffano brushed off her hands. "Ah, some peace and quiet. Now we can start the story Stephano."
"Right-o. Let's get this ass-cake rolling'!"
There was a pause, and everyone stared at Stephano. "Ass-cake?" Duffano asked.
"Um…."
Chapter Four
"Merry, Pippin, you are going to get yourselves killed doing that!"
"Oh lighten up Sam," Merry said. "It's fun. Try it."
Strider's truck hit another bump in the road. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were seated in the bed of the truck, and all flew up into the air. Merry and Pippin went higher, having jumped with the truck. They were holding a contest as to who could go the highest.
"Fine, keep doing it. But when you're lying dead on the side of the road, I'm taking no responsibility!" Sam shouted at them.
"Just let them do it, Sam. It's not worth arguing about," Frodo told him.
Sam sighed resignedly. At the next bump in the road, there also happened to be a low hanging tree branch….
"OW!" Merry and Pippin yelled, as they both fell back into the truck bed.
"Serves you right!" Sam shouted.
"Everything all right back there?" Strider called.
"Yes," Frodo answered. The others fell quiet.
"Do you think we can trust him?" Merry whispered to Frodo.
"Well, he doesn't seem to be dangerous," Frodo said thoughtfully.
"Yeah, but maybe he's in with them Hearse Drivers."
"No, I don't think so. I think he would probably give off much more negative vibes," Frodo said.
"Where's he taking us anyway?" Sam demanded.
"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee," Strider called through the back window.
"The FBI?" the college boys asked.
"We never did specify exactly what the hobbits turned into, did we?" Duffano asked Stephano.
"Nope. But they are college kids. Hence Merry and Pippin being in a fraternity," Stephano answered.
"Then why is Samwise twenty-three?" Duffano asked.
"… DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"
"Hey, boys, wake up!" Strider shouted at them through the window.
The boys all jerked awake. "What is it?" Frodo shouted back.
"We're coming to the town of Weathertop!" Strider told them. "But first I need to get us some food. He pulled over to the side of the road, beside a large forest, and exited the car. "You four stay here. I'm going hunting for some food." He dumped a bag next to them. "Take these in case those Hearse Drivers come back." And with that, he disappeared into the forest.
"What's in the bag?" Merry asked.
Frodo opened the bag to find four very large guns staring back at him. He extracted them and passed them around. "These," he said simply.
"… Oh."
But Strider didn't return for hours.
Like seven of them.
"Seven hours?"
"Yes seven. Why?"
"Why would he be gone for seven hours, Stephano?"
"Maybe he's a bad hunter, Duffano."
Frodo had fallen asleep. Merry and Pippin were bored. Sam prevented them from doing a lot of things to keep themselves amused.
Except for one.
"Stephano, why have we become slightly cryptic in our writing style?"
"Oh just shut up and write, Duffano."
They began to fire off their guns into the night air.
Frodo awoke.
"Stephano, I'm getting tired of this cryptic writing style," Duffano complained.
"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" Stephano screamed.
"Stephano that has nothing to do with our writing style."
"Whatever."
"What have you done?" Frodo shouted at the others.
"We're just having a bit of fun," Pippin said defensively.
"You idiots, we have the Nine Black Hearse Drivers chasing us! We can't afford to be making this much noise!" Frodo yelled, whacking the others collectively over the head.
There was a screech of rubber in the background. The boys stared at each other. "Run!" Frodo yelled. The all clambered out of the trucked bed and ran into the forest. They stopped just inside of it, guns at the ready, back to back.
They heard the squeal of brakes out on the road.
Five sets of brakes.
"I hate this writing style."
"Stop complaining."
"I hate you."
"Well, I hate Bob Barker."
"Damn you, Stephano."
"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"
"What do we do?" Merry asked Frodo.
"I don't know," Frodo whispered.
They heard footsteps.
Five sets of footsteps.
Duffano groaned and began banging her head against the wall. Stephano ignored her.
The college boys huddled in their little circle, gripping their guns.
Five black men, dressed all in black, with sunglasses on, even though it was dark, emerged from the foliage.
"You didn't know we were going that far when we said the Nine Black Hearse Drivers, didja?" Stephano shouted gleefully, watching the faces of the readers. "DIDJA?"
"BACK YOU DEVILS!" Sam screamed. He tried to bring his gun around to bear on them, but it jammed, and they simply shoved him aside. Merry and Pippin tried to shield Frodo, but were shoved aside as well.
Frodo dropped his gun.
"Useless, isn't he?" Duffano muttered.
Frodo backed away, and tripped over a tree root. He pulled out The One Really Expensive Ring, and looked from it to the Hearse Drivers. One of them, the biggest, and blackest of them, reached for it. Remembering what had happened the other times he had put the Ring on, Frodo slipped it onto his finger.
A shaft of moonlight reflected off of the facets, blinding his friends.
But the sunglasses of the Hearse Drivers shielded their eyes, and they could now see him perfectly. The leader reached forward, towards the Ring.
Frodo pulled it away from him.
Angry, the Hearse Driver drew his gun and shot Frodo nine times.
"Hey! Frodo's just like 50 Cent!" Stephano yelled.
Frodo began screaming.
There was a yell, and Strider burst into view with his shotgun, and started firing off rounds at the Hearse Drivers. They screamed, and ran off, back to their hearses.
Frodo pulled off the Ring, and Sam ran to him. Seeing the bullet wounds, he turned and yelled, "Strider!"
Strider quickly came to Frodo's side. "Oh shit," he said.
"What?" the younger men asked him.
"He's been shot with a Black Gun and Bullets."
"What does that mean?" Merry demanded.
"He's turning into a black man."
Duffano stared at what Stephano had just written. "Oh my god," she groaned, covering her eyes. "I so wish it was legal for me to drink alcohol right now…."
Stephano grinned evilly. "Oh no you don't, Duffano. That'd make us just that much worse."
"A black man?" Sam repeated incredulously.
Strider nodded, not taking his eyes from Frodo. "Nine times…" he muttered to himself. He looked up suddenly, realization dawning. "Nine times! They're turning him into 50 Cent!"
Duffano groaned again, and curled into the fetal position. "I can't believe we're doing this," she muttered.
"Oh, believe it, dearie."
"Come, bring him back to my truck," Strider commanded. "We've got to get him to Rivendell."
They all hurried to help pick up Frodo, and soon had him up in the passenger seat beside Strider. Sam, Merry, and Pippin clambered into the truck bed again, and clustered around the back window. "Is he going to die?" Pippin asked.
Strider turned to look back at him. "Did Fiddy die after being shot nine times?"
"No."
"Then no, he's not," Strider answered. He put the truck in gear, and peeled away into the night.
"GANDALF!" Frodo yelled in his sleep.
Gandalf was sitting in the corner of his dungeon cell. He was considerably wet, since Saruman kept setting off the fire sprinklers in the room. Saruman really had a weird sense of humor.
A paper airplane flew in through the window.
Gandalf smiled.
He picked up the airplane, pulled a pencil out of his pocket and scrawled a note on it. Then he threw it out the window again.
"All right. Sam, we need to get his fever down," Strider said. "We'll stop off at a CVS to get some ibuprofen. You do know what ibuprofen looks like, right?"
"We don't own CVS," the authors chorused.
"Uh, yeah. It's in a little bottle with IBUPROFEN written on it," Sam said.
"Atta boy, Sam. Merry, Pippin, you two stay here and pretend that Frodo isn't mortally wounded."
"But he is," Pippin protested.
"That's why I said to pretend he wasn't," Strider explained impatiently as he parked. "I don't want suspicion to be roused that there's a mortally wounded guy in the front seat of my truck."
"Oh. Okay."
"Samwise, let's go get that ibuprofen."
Sam and Strider left, and ran down the aisles of CVS, looking for the ibuprofen. "Damn CVS people can't label their god damned aisles correctly," Strider muttered, running down yet another aisle.
Suddenly, he skidded to a stop, and snatched a bottle off the shelf that read IBUPROFEN. Someone placed a gun barrel between his shoulders. "What's this? A hunter caught off his guard?" a female voice asked.
Moments later, Strider and Sam had reemerged, accompanied by this new woman. She hurried to the passenger side door. "He's getting close," she whispered to Strider. "See? His nose is getting wider." She pointed to his nose. "And his skin…" For Frodo's skin had begun to darken.
Strider opened Frodo's mouth and dumped some ibuprofen down his throat, with half a bottle of water after that. Frodo spluttered, but did not regain consciousness. "We must take him to my father," the woman said.
"I'll take him. You stay here with the boys-"
"No! My car is faster. I'll take him."
"It's too dangerous, Arwen."
"If we keep arguing he's going to turn into 50 Cent. The world can't handle more of his bad rap," Arwen said. "I'll take him, and my father will heal him."
"DEATH TO RAP!"
"Stephano, be quiet!"
"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!"
"Stephano! SHHH!"
Strider sighed. "Fine," he said to her. "But be careful." He helped her transfer Frodo to her sports car of no particular make or model.
"We're lazy," Duffano explained.
"I will be," she said. And then she climbed into her car, and sped off into the night.
"Are you stupid?" Sam yelled at Strider. "Those Hearse Drivers are still out there!"
Strider merely stared after her car.
Arwen was driving for only a short time before the hearses appeared behind her. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she counted them. Eight. "Shit," she muttered. She glanced over at Frodo, who was slumped in the passenger seat, and getting blacker by the second. "Double shit!" she said.
After a long, exciting car chase that the authors really didn't feel like writing, because they really didn't know how, Arwen reached the gates of Rivendell- an office of the FBI.
She quickly passed through security, leaving the hearses on the other side. She threw open her door and jumped out. She drew her guns and aimed them at the hearses. "If you want him, come and claim him!" she yelled.
The hearses rolled towards the security checkpoint. Arwen pulled out a walkie-talkie. "OMEGA SITUATION!" she yelled into the microphone. "I REPEAT! I HAVE A SITUATION OF OMEGA LEVEL!"
The land mines were activated, and blew up the hearses. Arwen sighed in relief. And then, the sounds of "In Da Club" came from her passenger seat. She burst into tears.
Frodo, once again Anglo-Saxon and not rap spewing, rolled over in his bed. "Wha' time izzit?" he mumbled.
"Ten o'clock in the morning, Frodo. Oh yes, and you're in Rivendell. Elrond here turned you back into yourself," a familiar voice said.
Frodo sat up. "Gandalf!" he said gleefully.
"Yes, I am here, Frodo," Gandalf said. "You had a close shave there."
"Yeah," Frodo said, cradling his aching head in his hands. "I'm never listening to rap again. And now, all of a sudden, I know all the lyrics to 50 Cent's songs!"
Gandalf looked grave. "Yes, well… I expect your mind will never fully heal."
"Frodo!" Sam yelled gleefully, hurtling into the room. "You're awake!"
"Yes, I'm awake. And I'm never, ever, EVER listening to rap again."
Gandalf smiled. "A wise choice. I have some music that you could borrow."
Frodo looked horrified. "Uh, no Gandalf, that's all right. Hey, um, why weren't you there at Bree to meet us?"
"Um… I was… delayed…"
EXTENDED FLASHBACK SEQUENCE!
Saruman strolled into Gandalf's dungeon cell. "Why hello there Gandalf!" he said, with feigned surprise. "Fancy seeing you in a dungeon cell!"
"Oh yes, sooooo surprising, I'm sure," Gandalf snarled. "Let me out."
"Nope, can't do that. I've got to try and subvert you first."
Gandalf snorted. "Fat chance. I don't know what Sauron's told you, but he's not going to let you borrow the One Really Expensive Ring or anything."
"Oh shut up, Gandalf," Saruman snapped. "At least I'm not going to be killed like you are."
A horn honked outside. Saruman turned to look in its direction, and then a limousine drove through the wall. Gandalf leapt into the back seat, and screamed "DRIVE, DRIVE!" at the driver. The car roared off, leaving Saruman shaking his fist at it.
"DAMN YOU BOB BARKER!" Stephano yelled.
"Stephano, Bob Barker wasn't in that limousine."
"You never know. Maybe it was his lifelong dream to be a limo driver, and he wrote to Oprah and she made his wish come true!"
"I'm scared for you, Stephano. Really I am."
"It coulda happened."
"Oh, just shut up and help me post this thing."
