The four young hobbits decided to improvise. They were, of course, being chased by unintelligent but menacing riders, and in the memory of their friend Gandalf they decided to at least find some unsuspecting wood-hermit to dump the ring on.

Their determination was indeed inspiring. But after about fifteen minutes…

"The Galloping Cow!" shouted Pippin.

"C'mon, let's get smashed." Merry said gleefully.

"Wait, no, stop – GUYS!" Frodo bellowed. Sam, halfway towards the pub within seconds, despite his frequent and loud complaints of chronic soreness of the joints and leg muscles, looked at Frodo guiltily. The other two were not shame-faced at all.

Merry said, "Frodo, it's the Galloping Cow. There's food, alcohol and most likely some pipe-weed in there!"

Frodo pondered for a moment. "Well, I was going to say that we have a great responsibility to Dear Gandalf's memory and to all hobbits as we venture into the wilderness so we had better be on our best and most sensible behaviour… But I suppose getting crazy drunk would be sort of the same thing."

"Yes!" Pippin cheered, and the four morons dashed inside.

It wasn't long before they were noticed. They downed pints upon pints of ale and smoked the Galloping Cow's owner out of pipe-weed. A dark, suspicious looking man peered at them from across the pub as they danced to uproarious applause on the tables. Thugs and bandits of every kind cheered on the drunken Hobbits.

The suspicious man's eyes narrowed.

They woke up the next morning with splitting headaches and lumps the size of grapefruits on their foreheads. In the middle of the woods.

Pippin was dismayed. "What about breakfast?" he asked, confused.

"That must have been a good night," Merry said, ignoring Pippin and rubbing the sizable lump on his forehead. "I don't remember getting here."

"Yeah, the last thing I remember is that weird suspicious guy knocking us all out with a chair leg," Sam moaned.

The three other hobbits stared at him.

"What?" yelped Frodo.

"Yes. I hit you all over the heads with a chair leg." The man had just strode out from a thick patch of trees with a doe draped over his shoulder.

Pippin vomited. "I'm not eating that for breakfast!" he shrieked. "I won't eat an innocent animal and thusly I shall surely STARVE TO DEATH!"

"Look, you can't just stride out of the woods with a dead animal over your shoulder and expect us to not beat you to death in our Hobbit rage!" Merry roared.

The man raised an eyebrow. "I saved your lives," he said sternly.

"You can't just stride out of the woods and tell us you saved our lives and expect us to believe you right after you told us you knocked us out with a chair leg after striding out of the woods with a dead animal on your shoulder!" Merry declared. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Strider."

"Oh, LOL," Merry said sarcastically.

"Okay, look. You're vegetarians? Fine. I'll eat this myself and refrain from hunting for the remaining duration of our journey, and you won't starve. You can have the multitude of fruit I gathered earlier, and the bread I bought before leaving town. I should point out that I sent your poor little pony home safely, so there you go, animal welfare and all that wot. You're mad that I knocked you out? Fine. But you were acting like idiots, drawing attention to yourselves like that in the Galloping Cow, what's the matter with you? Have you no self control? Especially when you have the ring of power on you, and four Black Riders chasing you down. Though they apparently took a wrong turn at Fiji."

The hobbits gasped.

"Yes, I know about the ring and your tale. I'm a friend of Gandalf's. I'm here to take you and your ring to Rivendell, where it will be safe, and you four morons can go back to the Shire and stop leading the Black Riders to their sinister goal."

There was silence for a long time. They ate, and then they followed Strider as he picked an ingenious path through the forest.

"But guys, seriously, what about breakfast?" Pippin hissed.

"We've had it already," Sam hissed, rather shame-faced after Strider's lecture in the morning.

"But what about second breakfast?"

"Ugh, stop thinking about your stomach," Sam complained.

Not to be deterred, Pippin stayed up all of that next night cooking tomatoes over a bright red fire.

Strider hadn't mentioned that it wasn't a good idea to build a bright red fire… likely because he thought it went without saying. Alas. The Ring Wraiths were able to find them.

"Whassamatter?" grumbled Merry as Pippin shook him awake in panic. Sam slapped a pillow over his ears. Only Frodo leapt up immediately, sensing the ring's excitement at the close proximity of its slaves.

"Baginsssssssssssssssssssssss," hissed a particularly empty-hooded wraith, reaching for Frodo.

This woke the others up, and Merry, Pippin and Sam stood protectively in front of Frodo. But it was common knowledge – the Ring Wraiths were highly skilled at pushing hobbits out of the way. Merry, Pippin and Sam were thrown into heaps of hobbit, and Frodo was left utterly alone.

He backed away and tripped.

"Figures," stated Merry dully.

"Eeeeek!" screamed Frodo as a Ring Wraith advanced slowly.

Suddenly, Frodo had an idea. It was not a very bright idea. But it was an idea. He put the ring on.

"Wow, Frodo, you sure know how to stand up for yourself," Pippin said sarcastically to Frodo, but Frodo wasn't there.

For the tiny hobbit had been transferred to wraith-land. It was a windy parallel universe in which all wraiths could see – and Frodo had just entered.

Oops.

"Hello, my dear," screeched the biggest wraith of all.

"Uh, hi?" Frodo said tentatively.

And so the wraith stabbed Frodo.

But then, Strider arrived. "Yeeee-haw!" cried the man, in the greatest show of emotion since the Hobbits had met him. "Lookee what I got, wraithies!" He held a torch in his hands.

The wraiths stared at the flames for a moment, and then took off screaming.

"Strider! They stabbed Frodo!" Sam cried.

"Oh no, he is bleeding profusely from his heart," Merry said sadly, removing his hat.

"Hey, where'd you get the hat?" asked Pippin.

"Over there," Merry pointed at a small hat stand.

"Be right back," Pippin muttered.

Strider gazed at the two hobbits for a second, sighing. Finally he spoke. "Okay… Frodo is not mortally wounded – but a piece of the blade is now traveling towards his heart. When it gets there, he will become a wraith as well. We must go to the elves, they can heal this."

After a perilous journey of about four feet to the right of them, they had arrived at Rivendell, the home of the elves. Elrond was the master elf, and was able to heal Frodo because he was good at healing, among other things. His talent for council-holding was also renowned far and wide.

Meanwhile, Gandalf was not quite dead. He was lying in some dirt when Saruman the white found him.

Saruman arrived to his tower late in the evening. A passing orc said, "Hey, what's with the corpse?"

"This is a fellow wizard and friend," Saruman explained dangerously. "And he is not quite dead. Revive him."

When Gandalf had been sufficiently revived, he looked up at Saruman. "Saruman? What am I doing on the floor?"

"What? You're on the floor?" Saruman asked furiously, looking at Gandalf for the first time since instructing the orcs to revive him. "Put him upright, you imbeciles!"

"Whoops," the orcs muttered.

"Wait - Why do you have orcs in your tower?" Gandalf puzzled.

"What? I have orcs in my tower? Damn!" Saruman said in a rather unconvincing surprised tone. With that he killed every orc in the room. "How on earth did they get in here?"

"Oh Great One? Palantir's ringing," another orc said, stepping in through the door.

Gandalf stared at his former friend.

"Er…" Saruman stammered.

"Holy Mother of All That's Good! You're – Saruman! You have allied yourself with Sauron!" Gandalf exclaimed angrily, wielding his staff.

"No, no no no I haven't!" Saruman laughed quickly. "Sauron is looking for the one ring; I'm just, uh, being contrary."

"Shall I put it on speaker?" the orc asked. Without waiting for an answer, he did, and sound burst from the shiny glass orb.

"SARUMAN! IT'S SAURON! HAVE YOU FINISHED BUILDING AN ARMY OF MUTANT ORC-MEN SO THAT I CAN TAKE OVER MIDDLE EARTH AND FIND MY BELOVED RING AGAIN OR WHAT? I'M GETTING FRUSTRATED!"

Gandalf stared pointedly at Saruman, and then went to leave.

"Oh no you don't!" Saruman yelled. Every door slammed shut, and Gandalf was sent flying to the top of the tower, staffless.

"Oww," moaned Gandalf once he had crashed through the thick ceiling. "Damn you, Saruman, look at this, I'm dying. Thanks a lot, you jerk." Gandalf yelled. He fell back onto the stone and died.

"You're welcome," Saruman answered unconcernedly from down below.

A moment passed.

"What the - " Gandalf exclaimed. "I thought I died." But you see, Gandalf had been returned to Middle Earth, for he had not completed his task. A legion of fantasy heros including Aslan, Harry Potter, and Jesus nodded wisely.

The newly healed Frodo was lounging by a clear Elven pool with Merry when he was unceremoniously summoned. "Frodo! You've been summoned to a council," bellowed Strider.

"Thanks Strider, or can I call you Aragorn, or maybe Elessar, or –" Frodo said teasingly while Merry chuckled, having just discovered the true, many-named identity of Strider. Aragorn, as he preferred to be called, rolled his eyes at him, seized him by the front of his tunic, and threw him across Elrond's yard and into one of the chairs at the council.

"Okay, everybody. I find these things work a lot better when everyone knows everyone else by name, so let's go around in a circle and introduce ourselves!" Elrond declared in a cheerful though stately way. Seated at Elrond's right, in a place of distinct honour, a young, brazen-looking man rolled his eyes. "I'll start. I'm Elrond and I like councils and healing," said Elrond.

"I'm Aragorn/Strider/Elessar/Dunedein/Bob," Aragorn said from his left, looking moody.

A few random men and elves introduced themselves, some with impressive credentials added in behind their names. Eventually, it was Frodo's turn. He sat directly across from Elrond, and he said uncomfortably, "Uh, hi!" everyone was staring at him. "Um, I'm Frodo, nice to meet you. I, uh, like to watch clouds and find interesting shapes in them. And I like cake. Especially with fresh strawberries." And then he felt like a prize moron.

There was silence for a while. Then the tall, graceful elf seated beside Frodo said, "I like cake too. Every twenty years or so. And strawberries are delicious." Frodo felt a tad better. "I'm Legolas, son of Tharanduil, representing the elves of the Woodland Realm and I'd just like to say that I'm thoroughly unimpressed with the entire dwarf race. They dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, in a mine the whole day through, and they contribute nothing of true worth to society."

"Thank you, Legolas, that was helpful," Elrond muttered.

The legion of dwarves to Legolas's left glared. The one seated right next to Legolas said, "I'm Gimli son of Gloin and I for one think that long-haired, blond, twiggy, flower-smelling elves should shut up about things they couldn't possibly know anything about."

"Thank you, Gimli. I can see that this will be a successful meeting. If you please, sir," Elrond said, shifting uncomfortably and nodding to Gimli's friend to his left. The rest of the dwarves present gruffly introduced themselves.

"I'm Boromir, son of Denethor, from Gondor, and I'd just like to say that I like both elves and dwarves. But dwarves are more fun to drink with," Boromir, the brazen young man from Elrond's immediate right said, smiling unconcernedly at Legolas and Gimli.

"Thank you, everyone," said Elrond. "Now to the substance of our discussion. What to do with the One Ring."

It sat on a round stone slab in the middle of the council members. Everyone shivered a little bit with Elrond declared its name aloud. And then the arguing ensued.

"Are we even sure that's the Ring of Power? It looks a bit like the one I gave my ex-wife. Maybe her evil seeped into it and we're mistaken."

"I put it in the fire myself, and sure enough the inscription appeared."

"Yeah, but still. She might have done that as a joke. She was messed up."

"This is an evil entity, and the sooner it is destroyed the better for all of us! The longer we sit around talking about it the worse off everyone will be!"

"No! Absolutely not! This is a mighty gift! It can be used to fight our common enemy."

"It cannot! It won't work for anyone but Sauron!"

"No, it's telling me right now in my head that I can use it to save Gondor!"

"Let me destroy it with my axe!"

"You fool. Your silly dwarf-axe can't possibly be effective against the ring of power!"

"Shut up, pretty boy, let the real men take care of business."

"You're an idiot. And you're not even a man."

"Gimli, no!"

Swish, crack, ZING!

"Owww."

"What did I tell you, idiot?"

"The ring cannot be destroyed by an axe, young dwarf. It can only be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. In Mordor.

"Oh come on. One does not simply sally on in to Mordor! It's a fool's errand! Just give me the ring, I'll use it for good!"

"Let's hide the ring in the deepest, darkest hole we can find."

"We dwarves know many of those."

"Oh, yeah, like anyone would trust a selfish dwarf with hiding the ring of power."

"Legolas, check your bitterness, please, it's unbecoming on one as graceful as you."

"Oh, come on, Lord Elrond. Would you honestly trust a dwarf with the one ring?"

"This discussion is irrelevant –"

"You know what? I think elves are useless for everything except wall decorations."

"Gimli, that was unnecessary."

"Your face is unnecessary."

"Okay, you tiny piece of vermin, get over here!"

"No, Lord Elrond, calm down, we have important things to discuss."

"I told you dwarves sucked."

"Pretty boy."

"Greedy idiot."

"Okay, okay, I'm fine, stop fussing. Let us return to deciding what to do with the One Ring."

"Let's go inside and throw it out the window!"

"That idea's so crazy, it might actually work!"

"What do you mean, 'it might actually work'?"

"Who the hell are they?"

"Oh, no one, no one. Get out of here before I stab you, you unbelievable little morons!"

"Elrond, this Council is a joke. Even these simple, idiotic Hobbits are allowed to posit their opinions! I think we're decided. I'll take the ring to Gondor."

"Shut up, Boromir."

"Shut up yourself, insignificant Ranger."

"I'm the heir to your throne, you arrogant prick."

"My… my Council is NOT a joke! My Councils are never a joke!"

"Lord Elrond, ignore him, he's an idiot."

"You are the heir? Wow, I think I'll sell my citizenship the day of your coronation."

"Can we get back to the point? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"Oh sure. But you, really? I can't get over this. You're dishevelled. You must have gone weeks without bathing."

"STOP elbowing me!"

"Well, you're breathing on me!"

"I am not! That's called the wind, but I guess you wouldn't know that since you live in a hole. OW!"

"And that's called my fist, and now you're acquainted."

"I'm swiftly losing my elven composure, Lord Elrond, I may soon commit dwarvicide."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try!"

"I wish I was back at the Galloping Cow."

"I hear you."

"I WILL TAKE IT! I WILL TAKE THE RING TO MORDOR!"

Everyone was staring at Frodo again. He suddenly felt rather less than determined with all of the great faces looking at him.

"… Seriously?" Elrond said.

Aragorn sighed, but smiled at Frodo encouragingly. "I will go with you. If by my life or death I can protect you, I will."

Boromir was staring from Frodo to Aragorn and back. "Uh, wait. I'll go too. Gondor needs a real representative on this mission. I want to see that it gets done properly."

Aragorn frowned, but said to Frodo, "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," Legolas declared, rubbing his injured eye. Gimli glared at him.

"And MY AXE!" he shrieked. Flocks of birds took to the skies, startled.

"Thank you," Frodo spluttered into the shocked silence that followed the outburst.

"Well, we're going too!" Merry said matter-of-factly.

"They probably have some awesome pipe-weed in Mordor!" Pippin said gleefully.

"I'd like to see the world. I guess," Sam said sheepishly, smiling at Frodo.

So then a group of nine set out from Rivendell.

We know what you're thinking. There are only eight.

Shhh. It's a conspiracy.

Meanwhile, Gandalf was sitting on the cold hard stone of the Ivory Tower's roof, playing with a moth.

"Heeeeeeeeeeere, moth moth mothy!" he crooned. "Oh, I have an idea. Fetch me some eagles," Gandalf told the moth. The moth flew away.

"Gee, if it weren't for kind folk like him, I'd have to climb down the ladder," Gandalf said happily, glancing at an elegant ladder a few feet from him that led all the way to the bottom of Saruman's tower.

On the second day of the Fellowship's quest, Gimli smugly remarked that the Fellowship of NINE should go to Moria, an expansive land of dwarves and dwarf-mines. Legolas threw up at the prospect.

"No you short idiot," Aragorn said angrily. Gimli's constant spats with Legolas set his teeth on edge, and because Legolas was an old friend of his he sided, if only slightly, with the elf. "We're taking these flat lands."

"No, we should take the mountain pass and go straight to Gondor," Boromir declared.

"I'd never take the ring anywhere near Gondor," Aragorn snarled. "We're not doing this so that you can stupidly fail at using the ring to protect Gondor."

"I only suggested it because Gondor is right next to Mordor!" Boromir argued.

"I thought Mordor was right next to the Shire," Pippin pointed out helpfully. They ignored him.

Aragorn's route failed when a bunch of crows found them.

"They are spies of Saruman!" Aragorn shrieked.

"Who is Saruman?" Frodo asked, bewildered.

"He's a wizard that is above Gandalf but he's evil." Argaorn explained dully.

"But… How are crows supposed to be spies? Does Saruman speak Crow?" asked Pippin.

"Just… just follow me to the mountain pass," Aragorn said irritably. Boromir grinned.

But as they were crossing the mountains, Legolas became uneasy. "There is a fell voice on the air!" he said gracefully.

"It's Saruman. He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled over the howling winds.

"Not Saruman again! Okay, so now let me guess. He's gifted in the bringing down of mountains, so he's going to crush us. Doesn't he have anything better to do?" Frodo asked.

"Okay, I've had it with you, you little…" Aragorn muttered as he advanced upon Frodo.

"AVALANCHE!" shrieked Gimli.

"Good idea, Boromir," Legolas told him sarcastically.

They all were covered in snow.

"Ooooo, pretty colours!" Pippin sang.

"It's white, you idiot," Merry told him, hitting him on the back of the head.

"Okay, okay," said Gimli as his ugly head protruded from the snow. "Now it's time for my plan. We go to Moria."

"But that's a really stupid plan," said Aragorn. "Firstly, we don't know if any dwarves are still there. Secondly, there are no railings."

Legolas snorted as Gimli hung his head. "We lost a lot of men that way."

Unfortunately, there was no alternative plan, so they ventured to the mines of Moria. Upon arriving, all that the Fellowship found were mines and dead dwarves. And then they were attacked by Moria Orcs. There was also a cave troll. After killing them all they were surrounded by… MORE MORIA ORCS!

But that was not the worst of it.

A Balrog.

"Damn dwarves delved too greedily and too deep!" Legolas complained. "What have I been saying this whole time?" Gimli punched him again.

"RUN, YOU IDIOTS!" screamed Aragorn. "CAN YOU NOT TELL THAT'S A DEMON?"

"A demon?" asked Boromir, confused. "It looks more like a fiery, shadowy Big Horned sheep to me. "

"FLY!" screamed Aragorn.

"Okay!" Merry agreed, sprouting wings and zooming across the bridge of khaza-dum.

"What a stupid name for a bridge," commented Legolas.

"It is an impressive bridge that elves could never have built! The name means, 'I don't care how many rocks you drop on me, I will never collapse'." Gimli told him smugly.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Legolas retorted as they tore across the bridge to the smallest light on the other side.

And then, out of nowhere, Gandalf appeared in an immaculate white robe.

The fellowship, who had all managed to cross the bridge without falling, stared at him.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" shrieked Gandalf.

"What are you doing?" Aragorn asked in shock.

"Hello? I'm gonna sacrifice myself to save your asses!" Gandalf said impressively. "Then I become Gandalf the White because I die and come back to life. Duh!"

"You ARE Gandalf the White!" Boromir pointed out.

Gandalf looked down at his robes.

"So I am!"

Snow White, Heigh Ho. One does not simply tank cat into Mordor, you know. Twee twee twee twee twee twee twee twee, you know, you know you know you know, you know, tank catting into Mordor is no-go. Da dum da dum da dum da dum heigh hoooooo heigh hoooo.