Author's Note: Hello, my wonderful readers! I thank you all for your patience as this story has been slow to update. I haven't had much help from the muses lately. *elbows snoring muses* I hope you guys are having a nice summer, and hopefully this update will brighten your day with a laugh or two. Don't forget to leave me some feedback if you enjoy the story!
. . .
Guests are exceedingly rare in the dark halls of Barad-dûr, but every century or so, someone comes knocking. Well, actually they come when they are summoned before the throne of the Dark Lord, an occurrence which is not exactly coveted among mortals. Yet for the sake of finishing off the sanity of a pesky fanfiction writer, Sauron did just that and invited a stranger into his courts, a man with whom the team of Snagas was not familiar.
The man was clad in blue and white with dark eyes and a selfish expression. He did not appear to be at all familiar with the ways of orcs, but at the same time he was clearly no stranger to evil. He said no word unless directly addressed, hardly acknowledging the existence of anything except of course the menacing form of the Dark Lord.
"You," Sauron said, fixing a deadly eye on the unknown person so that the man was forced to look down at the ground. "Are you aware of my purpose?"
"Yes," the man affirmed, a foreign accent evident in his speech. "You seek to destroy the mind of a nemesis—"
"Hardly a nemesis," the Dark Lord interrupted coldly. "More of a pathetic nuisance."
The man nodded very quickly, eager to agree and not incur any wrath from Sauron, as would any sensible person. "Yes, of course," he stumbled. "You have a nuisance who must be dealt with, and apparently creating the desired effect coincides with something I want. But your, um, spokesperson wouldn't specify."
"That is because I wanted to speak to you myself," Sauron answered. "I don't trust these miserable creatures." Dark lords are not known to be caring of their employees' feelings. The orcs very discreetly rolled their eyes as Sauron continued. "I do not intend to mince words. You hate the Texas Rangers, correct?"
The man nodded emphatically. "With a passion."
The Dark Lord sneered. "From the bat flip last season, I knew it was so. I desire to continue plaguing the team with injuries as it has proven effective against the worthless writer so far. The catcher's broken arm drew tears from the mortal in question as she watched the replay a few months ago. But that wasn't big enough, and the team is still doing well. I want a more permanent wound to be inflicted, one which is both physical and mental."
The man hesitated. "What exactly does that mean?"
"That we don't just hurt someone, but we do so in a way that would humiliate and enrage the franchise eternally. Your bat flip accomplished those things, in a small dose, with perfection—I want you to ride that momentum to inflict a crushing blow to those miserable Texas Rangers."
A small smile crept up the stranger's face. "Sounds great; what did you have in mind?"
. . .
"This game is going on forever," Snaga 3 murmured angrily underneath his heavy umpire equipment as he met up with the other two umpires.
"Shut up," growled Snaga 299,792,458m/s, his crooked teeth hardly visible beneath the mask stretched over his face and under his uniform's mask. "Be patient."
"Look who's preachin' virtues now," mocked the final umpire, Snaga 1.
"If we weren't on camera," came a low, threatening response from Snaga 299,792,458m/s, "I'd be very tempted to slice open your guts. Just shut your worthless trap and focus on the plan."
"I'm sure that would make a lovely scene for your buddy 6.023*10^23 to watch, huh?" laughed Snaga 3. "Why should he get to take over the camera while we languish in these ridiculous disguises? We've been playing along like morons for six innings with absolutely nothing to show for it."
"That's because our man hasn't had an opportunity yet," Snaga 299,792,458m/s answered with an air of superiority. "Haven't you been paying attention?"
"Hey, they're starting again," interrupted Snaga 1 as the three umps stood up straighter before facing Snaga 299,792,458m/s one last time. "And our guy is due up. Why don't you just insure that he gets on base, since you're calling the balls and strikes?"
"We can't draw suspicion and risk someone noticing," retorted the ump as he began walking back towards home plate. "We're only here to offer protection after the injury has been dealt, just to keep the agent from embarrassing himself."
"What a worthless little runt; can't pull off an attack against one person without body guards," grumbled Snaga 1, the orcs finally separating and going to their respective places on the field. Despite all their complaints, they were greatly looking forward to seeing their (albeit wimpy) ally intentionally shatter the leg of the Rangers' second baseman. But they weren't nearly as eager as the batter himself, stepping into the box with a glint of wickedness shining (except since it was born in darkness, it could be said to un-shine) in his eye.
"Fourteenth inning slide won't save you now," the villain whispered evilly to himself.
"What?" asked the catcher.
"Shut up," the agent of Sauron snapped, planting both feet firmly in the batter's box. The catcher, used to the antics of the notorious batter, simply sighed and prepared to receive the pitch.
With Texas only leading by one run, everyone was surprised when the pitcher (purposefully?) plunked the batter with the first pitch, earning a swift ejection and unwittingly placing the fiend in position to carry out his villainous intentions. And even better, the next batter hit a ground ball, which meant Sauron's little buddy had the perfect opportunity to slide into second.
Everything was going perfectly. With his spikes set on a trajectory to snap the Ranger's femur, the worker of iniquity plowed forward, waiting excitedly to hear a sickening snap. Time slowed down as the baseball was fielded to the second baseman and all the movement seemed to intersect at the exact same place.
But then everything went array.
The second basemen somehow eluded the illegal slide, avoiding a career-ending injury by mere inches. The attacker, at a loss for only a moment, immediately went about his plan B for all circumstances: whining. He got up and started screaming in the second baseman's face about the Ranger trying to hit him with the throw or something equally nonsensical. The two exchanged shoves. And then the fiend learned a valuable lesson, one which he would carry with him the rest of his life.
Don't mess with Texas. Seriously, just don't.
As some of you know, the Texas Rangers are an exceedingly classy team. Most of their players are very respectful, and all of them love each other and the game of baseball. But it is also important to note that they bore a heavy weight from an awful ending to the 2015 season, one which is too tragic to recount in a tale such as this. It was a personal blow curtesy of Sauron's newest friend, one that had lasting effects just like when a bully pushes a kid down at recess in front of the whole school and makes a show of it.
And, well, sometimes bullies just need a really loud wakeup call.
The second baseman set his jaw as well as his fist. Sauron's agent was coiling his arm for a punch, but his reaction was far too slow and stupid to be of any use. In one fluid motion, the Rangers' second baseman thrust his right hand out as though shot from a spring, landing the single most epic punch in the history of sports brawls (because Nolan Ryan delivered six punches, not one; otherwise it would be a clear tie). The villain's hat and sunglasses went flying in slow motion as he stumbled back, and had things gone on uninterrupted, the Ranger might have beaten the living daylights out of Sauron's little buddy.
It was not the Snagas who came to their ally's rescue. They were not only stunned but also gripped with fear at the impressive display of awesomeness unleashed by the Ranger, and even though they knew their man's humiliation would accomplish the opposite of the mission's intent, they considered their lives more valuable than victory and fled the field.
Rather, it was the Ranger's third baseman who saved the worker of evil. Many songs and tales could be made of this player's honor, for though he had every reason to hate the perpetrator, he leapt quickly into the fray and wrapped his strong arms securely around the beaten party, pulling him to safety. An all-out brawl began as some more Sauron-loving non-Rangers burst onto the field to cause unwarranted trouble, but the main players in the initial spark remained out of the fight.
For the fool who thought he could defeat the Texas Rangers, as with Prince Rabadash (a character baring remarkable resemblance to Sauron's agent), justice was mixed with mercy.
. . .
Estel was beaming ear to ear on Monday morning as she walked across the gravel road which led to the stable where she was employed. She had not been following yesterday's game as it occurred, but she had watched the footage about five hundred times by now, and although her conscience was conflicted, she could not deny a general glee.
She soon noticed that a figure was waiting for her up ahead, a man tall, lean, and dressed in tattered travelling clothes. It was her favorite ranger (of the north, of course; she had a different list of favorite Rangers of Texas).
"Aragorn!" she cried before bursting into a long, clear laugh in which her eyes teared up and she bent over, holding her stomach to keep the chuckles at bay.
After a minute of this insanity, she stood up and saw that her friend was smiling back at her, shaking his head. "I am surprised at you," he said after a moment. "I thought you said you didn't want retaliation. Turn the other cheek, right?"
Thalion's grin finally subsided, and instead she took on an expression of deep thought. "I've been thinking a lot about it," she admitted soberly. "It's tough. But this is the way I see it: the punch's deliverer was wrong in what he did. I'm not going to lie; turning the other cheek is what the individual should have done. But…"
"…it's poetic justice," Aragorn finished, a small smile gracing his face.
"Yeah," Estel agreed with a laugh. "There was a stuck up, spoiled brat who has trampled on others without remorse. No one could stop him as he held disgrace over us with his very presence. Now he's got nothing on us; his mouth has been officially stopped."
"Quite literally," chuckled the ranger. "I wonder if his jaw is sore."
"I'm sure it is," Thalion replied, walking past her muse and toward the stalls that awaited her work. "But not as sore as his ego." The writer let out a long, sad sigh to the surprise of Aragorn. "I pity him," she added quietly.
"That is a good sign," the ranger said, joining Estel in walking toward the barn. "It is a feeling with which I am familiar. Perhaps this unfortunate event will help correct the man's errant ways."
Thalion shrugged doubtfully. "After the game, he called us gutless, said we had revealed our true colors, claimed that we lacked any kind of leadership, and even had the gall to state that it takes a bigger man than that to knock him down."
All this was, of course, too much for Aragorn to take seriously, and he let out his wonderfully cheering laugh, which the writer was destined to join. "I don't think he'd know leadership if it dropped right in front of him," the muse said at last.
"Or if it dragged him to safety when he had just earned himself a punch to the face," Estel chuckled with an eye roll. "Man, I haven't had so much fun in a long time. This has finally wiped out the bat flip and restored honor to our team. I think it just might have saved my sanity."
Far away in Barad-dûr, Sauron took his Palantir, let out a roar which deafened anyone within a one mile radius, and threw the seeing stone out the nearest window, still screaming in rage. Dark Lords do not appreciate when their brilliant plans backfire in such ironic fashion.
. . .
I would like to issue a special reminder in conclusion: this is, like all these chapters, based on a true story. Did I take liberties with some characters that I don't know personally? Yeah. I was a bit mean to a certain player, I grant that. But this is a sort of parody on my life, so I think the liberties were acceptable. Anyway, the events surrounding the climax are legit. You can look up videos of the brawl if you want to see it for yourself (highly recommended by me). If you didn't see it in the news, that is. It was a pretty big deal. Ha.
Hopefully you guys enjoyed this update; please don't forget to leave me a review! And remember, kids: don't mess with Texas! ;)