Chapter Three of Angst of the Rings: Gollum the Avenger

Somewhere in Middle Earth, there was a vast expanse of mountains. None of them were Mount Doom, but you had to give Frodo and Sam credit for trying, Gollum granted. At least they weren't in a forest or something.

"Mr. Frodo, haven't we passed this rock before?"

"I think you're right, Sam."

"You know what that means, Mr. Frodo?"

"What does that mean, Sam?"

"We're going in circles," Sam groaned. "Look, there's that dandelion that looks like Boromir's elbow."

Frodo and Sam shared a gleeful snicker before flopping down onto the rocks. "You know, Sam, I don't think this is Mount Doom."

"Right, Mr. Frodo. I think it would have a more doomy atmosphere."

"Exactly, Sam. So where next?"

Sam shrugged, opening his pack and producing a crumb of Lembas bread for each of them. "I think we should head for the forest, Mr. Frodo."

Gollum let out a groan from his hiding spot among some grass. Frodo, however, thought this was a wonderful idea. "Good thinking, Sam!"

"Thanks, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo took the Ring from around his neck and placed it on a stone a few feet away. "So which way to the forest, Sam?"

Gollum's eyes widened; the ring was right in front of him. He crawled forward, reaching his spindly hand. The ring was calling him, he could feel its voice. Rah rah ah ah ah, roma romama, gaga ooh la la, it crooned.

"I don't know, Mr. Frodo, I think we have to go…" Sam closed his eyes and swung his arm. He stopped it randomly. "That way."

"You're sure, Sam?"

"Yes, Mr. Frodo. Before I worked as your gardener, I was a pocket compass."

Gollum let out a hefty sigh. "You guys are friggen stupid."

Frodo and Sam looked up at him.

"Curses," Gollum mumbled.

"Haven't we passed that rock before?" called Aragorn to his marathonning companions, tilting his head to the left to peer at it more closely as he raced past.

"Yes," said Legolas in an irritated monotone.

"And we're about to pass it again," grumbled Gimli.

The three comrades were running in a tight little circle.

"WHY are we running in a circle?" Aragorn shouted.

"I don't &!%$*# know, we're following you!" Legolas complained.

"Okay, fine, calm down. Which way were we originally headed?" Aragorn asked.

"What do you mean, originally? Before we started running in a circle, or before we ran backwards for half a mile, or before we rolled down that mountain over yonder, or before we walked sideways like crabs for an hour?" Gimli asked, leaning against the rock and taking a swig of water from his flask.

"Before you turned into a &%#!*%$! idiot, is that what you meant?" Legolas suggested.

"No, just, okay. Let's take a breather." Aragorn threw himself down, and his companions followed suit.

Legolas glared moodily into the distance. Gimli dumped the rest of his water into his beard. Aragorn consulted a map.

"Where on Middle Earth could those Uruks be taking our dear friends?" Aragorn muttered, tracing the mountain ranges with his eyes.

"Tolkein only knows. Legolas, why don't you look with your elf eyes?"

Legolas stood and looked all around. He turned away from the sunset and declared, "They're turning East. They must be going to Saruman."

"Those bastards," Aragorn said, slamming his fist onto the map.

"Shocking," added Gimli.

"Okay, let's go. But from now on, I'm leading," said Legolas.

The three took off into the darkening east.

The largest of the Uruks glared menacingly at a small boulder in his path. "I could have sworn that we had passed this rock before," he growled.

"Nooo, that's not the same rock, it had distinctive markings on it that I'd remember," hissed a thin-faced Uruk who marched beside the leader.

"Are you sure?" boomed a thick-throated Uruk. "It looks to be about the same size as the one we passed."

"That's the same damn rock," snarled a smaller Uruk.

"I don't know about you chaps, but I'm too tired and hungry to give a flying flask about rocks right now," cackled the Uruk who was carrying Pippin.

"Yes, let's just stop for the night then," said the leader.

The smaller Uruk sidled up to the hobbits who had been dumped near the excess weaponry that the Uruks always carried for no discernable reason. "Mmmm, fresh meat. I ain't had nothin' but mouldy bread for the last… since I was pried outta the mould, really. The mould I was made out of, innit, not the kind on the bread."

"That's… nice," said Merry, glancing at Pippin with raised eyebrows.

"Get away from the Halflings, Dorothy. They're to be delivered alive." The leader Uruk had moved closer and was watching the smaller Uruk with intense mistrust.

"But cap'n, they don't need all them limbs, eh?" Dorothy (…) snarled, and he grabbed Pippin's leg furiously.

"Back the hell off, yeah?" the Captain roared, pulling Dorothy off of Pippin and throwing him across the camp.

"Grrrrr, snarl," said the Uruks, and a fist fight ensued that made all Uruks forget about the hobbits.

"Merry, I am sorely regretful to inform you of this, but I'm finished with this whole business," Pippin sighed.

"Pip, let's get the hell out of here," Merry agreed.

And as they snuck off with Dorothy sneaking off behind them, a ten score force on horseback leapt into the Uruks' midst.

There were supposed to be orcs in that group of Uruks, but whatever.