Disclaimer- I don't own LOTR.

I've totally had this written forever, I'm just lazy...

Enjoy! :)

After they safely tied up the boat at the back of a place called "Long John Silver's" (which they deemed safe because it had a picture of a boat on it), they found their way back to the police station.

"So...what you're saying is..." said the policemen slowly. "...you've gotten lost on your way to this 'Valinor', which sounds suspiciously like Heaven, and you're trying to find your way back. It sounds like you've also somehow managed to park your boat in the back of a fast food establishment."

"Yes, we're quite aware," replied Gandalf testily. "Could you direct us to the nearest Elvish colony?"

"Sir, I think I may need to call the-"

"-police?" finished Galadriel pointedly.

"Eh, yeah. What I meant to say was, I may need to escort you to the hospital. We have some lovely rooms with a nice view of the pavement, and-"

Galadriel strutted forward and pulled up the hem of her robes, exposing a white ankle. "I don't think you'll want to do that." she purred.

The officer stared at her. "No thank you."

Elrond coughed. "Stand back, you old hag."

Frodo and Bilbo latched onto her legs to prevent her from attacking her son-in-law.

Elrond glided forward and smiled naughtily. He grabbed one of the officer's hands and placed it on his ass. "Your hands are so...big," he murmured. "I wonder...could I convince you otherwise if I promise to give you a little show?"

To the others' shock and amazement, the officer nodded happily and dragged Elrond into a seedy bar. Twenty minutes later, Elrond emerged, wiping his mouth and looking disgruntled.

"You're married!" gasped Frodo.

"I spent two thousand years in Gil-galad's army," chuckled Elrond in reply. "You learn a thing or two."

Galadriel glared at him. "You're married indeed...to my daughter!"

"Oh, don't give me that crap. I know what Celebrían liked to do behind closed doors, and it certainly didn't involve my penis."

"Neither did that." sniggered Gandalf.

A rock fell on Gandalf's face.

"We're nowhere near a cliff!" he scowled.

A Balrog fell on Gandalf's face.

Forty minutes later, after Gandalf arm-wrestled the Balrog into submission, they found themselves, although not in an asylum, no closer to figuring out where they were. With help from a disgruntled hippie they found their way to an office labeled "Foreign Tour Guide Help" conveniently located near them. A lot of things were conveniently located near them.

"What language do you speak?" asked the help center clerk, speaking slowly and loudly. Elrond, being a sexy genius Elf, had already picked up English and replied, thankfully without Gandalf needing to hit him on the head with his staff.

"Right now, I speak, er, American, I believe," he replied, his accent thick. And sexy. Thick and sexy. "But I can also speak Westron, Quenyan, Sindarian, that one language the Rohirrim speak-"

"Oooooooh," said Bilbo dreamily. "The Rohirrim are sexy."

"But not as sexy as Master Elrond!" piped up Frodo.

"Yes, I agree," continued Elrond seamlessly. "-I also speak Dwarvish, which was difficult to learn, requiring several rather disgusting hand-jobs to wean it out of a Dwarf, and-"

The help center clerk stared. "Your...original language?"

"Sindarian. I think."

"Are you from...Sindar?" asked the clerk, trying to figure out if he'd forgotten about a country. Was that in the Middle East somewhere? No, wait, this guy spoke lots of languages, and everyone knew Asians spoke lots of languages. Asian, that had to be it.

"I'm horny." announced Galadriel to nobody in particular.

"Can't help you there," said Gandalf rather sadly. "We wizards have no genitalia."

The clerk cleared his throat. "So...what do you want?"

"We're trying to find the Elves," said Elrond. "Got any ideas?"

To their surprise, the clerk brightened and pointed to a poster on the wall. "Yeah, sure! They're in town this week! Those people are weird."

Elrond followed the direction of the finger. "Carnival?" he read slowly. "Featuring...tantalizing titties...fantastic freaks...awesome acrobats...and the star of our show, the elegant Elves!"

"What's a titty?" asked Bilbo. "Can you eat it?"

Weirdly enough, this story has a plot.

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