Author's note: I came up with new improved title all on my own, so it looks like I shall have to write myself a one-shot, if I can ever find the time. I know, this chapter is pretty condensed, but I can build off of it later, a bit. I'll update sooner if you review, PM, and vote on the poll on my profile. Enjoy!

I hadn't heard from Professor Tolkien's ghost for nearly two weeks; I was about ready to believe that I had imagined his appearing to me (except for the fact that all of my Scarlet Pimpernel books had mysteriously disapeared. Funny how that works.) My teeth had healed up pretty well by this time—thank God for Jell-O®—and I was trying to get some sleep, when out of the blue (or black, since it was dark), Professor Tolkien popped up.

"Good morning," Professor Tolkien said politely.

"What do you mean?" I groaned. I untangled myself from my blankets and sat up groggily-I don't function well at 4:30 AM. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once. Now stop quoting me," he said sternly. "It is very difficult to have a conversation when someone is always quoting you."

Thinking of all of the times I had quoted Tolkien in general conversation, I felt a little twinge of discomfort. After all, nobody likes a stern professor. "I see what you mean," I said, feeling like a common criminal.

Tolkien looked at me even more sternly. "No, you don't. You are not the one who has to appear to people who have read every word that you ever wrote and quote them to your face."

"Well that's not my fault," I shrugged, still feeling incriminated. I now noticed the tower of Scarlet Pimpernel books that the professor was holding. "Oh, did you bring my books back?" I asked brightly.

"Yes," Tolkien harrumphed. With mystical precision, he placed the books back in the gaping bookshelf. There had been a rather large hole between my copies of The King of Attolia and Austenland on the shelf. (Author's note: Those two books are both great reads, by the way. They should be, since I interrupted my story to tell you that they were.) Now that the Scarlet Pimpernel books had been put away, my shelf was whole again.

"Did you enjoy them?" I asked anxiously. "Goodness knows," I added, "it took you long enough to read them all."

"Oh, well, it didn't take me two weeks to read them all," Professor Tolkien said, slightly abashed. "I found this internet site called 'Blakeney Manor.' It has this rather curious personality quiz about which person from the Pimpernel books you happen to be."

"Oooh, I love that quiz," I quipped. "I'm Marguerite, just waiting for a tall, blonde British gent to sweep me off of my feet. Oooh la la!"

Professor Tolkien gave me a half-amused, half-skeptical glance. "Yes," he muttered, "you would be… Anyway, I kept taking the quiz, trying to get a result other than Robespierre."

I confess that I almost busted a gut (and woke at least half of my sleeping family members) with my hysterical fit of laughter.

Three minutes of hysterics later, Professor Tolkien finally yelled at me. "That's enough now! I enjoyed these Pimpernel books. Go ahead, put Percy in as much as you like. I'm done here." Professor Tolkien disappeared with a loud pop.

I shut up immediately—I had just wasted three minutes in the presence of the ghost of one of the most brilliant authors of all time. I had laughed at Professor Tolkien when I should have been asking him questions about his philosophies, or his characters, or even about death; he was a ghost after all. I facepalmed, then turned over and went back to sleep. It was still dark outside, after all, but not as good of a morning as it had been a few minutes before.

~*~

Sam, Frodo, and Gollum walked. They walked through the next two chapters, stopping only to rest and eat. And then they kept walking until they came to a place of pure evil: Minas Morgul.

The castle was very big and very green. It had rainbow gates and a bridge lined with pretty pink flowers. Every part of the castle was brightly colored and made of plastic; a fantasy of little girls everywhere.

"What is this place?" Frodo whispered in awe.

"The castle of the witch king, hobbitses," Gollum hissed. "Hurry on, hobbitses, yes, yes, hurry."

"Let's go, Mister Frodo," Sam urged. "I don't like the look of this place."

Frodo was drawn to the pink flowers that lined the bridge. "Wait a moment." Frodo said, mesmerized. "I promised my daughter that I would bring her back a flower from my travels."

"Mister Frodo," Sam said, flabbergasted. "You don't have a daughter (at least not in my knowledge...) You've been reading too many elf tales again."

"And what if I have been?" Frodo said defensively.

Just then, the colorful gate to the castle opened and a cloaked figure came skipping down the bridge toward the travelers. His cloak was bright lilac and he had a gaudy plastic tiara.

"Hello! Isn't it a lovely day?" He called to them.

Frodo shuddered. "Sam," he whispered, "It's the witch-king. I can still feel his blade in my shoulder."

The witch-king skipped up to them, screaming greetings and waving until it looked like his arms would fall off. As the witch-king drew nearer, Frodo began to twitch violently.

[This story has been interrupted by the ghost of Professor Tolkien: "You did what with the witch-king?!?"

"Who's writing this story anyways? Wait…That was a rhetorical question."

Tolkien glared.]

The witch-king launched into his greeting without even catching a breath.

"HelloIthoughtthatIwouldcomeoutheretosayhellobecausetheweatherisquitelovely."

"Hello," Gollum spat. He pushed Frodo and Sam toward the path. "We must be going, yes."

"Oh no! You can't leave now—we've only just begun to have a fun time," the witch-king whined. "I just got the newest 'My Little Pony" playset. Come on, have a go at it with me."

Sam and Frodo exchanged a look. Frodo could not stand much more of this before he would collapse—he was beginning to convulse. Sam took action.

"Oh look," Sam shouted. He pointed across the bridge. "A unicorn!"

"Jolly, a unicorn!" The witch king ran to the edge of the bridge to look for it. Frodo, Sam, and Gollum made a hasty exit.

"Wait?" The witch-king said, once he realized that there was no unicorn. "Where did you go?"