IN THE DARK AND DESOLATE LAND OF MORDONUT, two heroic Half-caffs struggle to destroy a mighty and ancient evil, the stain of Maxwelcôr, the bane of the Elvish tablecloth, the treasure of Sour'on, the Enemy of Good Coffee...

Lord of the Coffee
NescaFrodo and the Decaffeination of Middle-girth

especially brewed for AuntKimby with reduced caffeine

"I choose not to chew the thing I have come here to brew... I will not chew this thing. The CoffeeRing is toast!" and with that said, NescaFrodo held out his fist above the steaming chasm and opened his hand.

Sanka gasped; unbelievably, the CoffeeRing did not fall from his master's palm. NescaFrodo shook his hand and still the Ring did not fall; the chain upon which it was threaded jingled and flashed in the red light.

"It's stuck! It got all warm and gooey in my pocket! Help me, Sanka..."

But just then, a scrawny figure leaped up behind Sanka and beaned him with a rock. Sanka fell to the ground with an "ouch!", and Sméagolatté ran forward and grappled for NescaFrodo's hand, trying to lick the coffee from his fingers.

"Get off, you weird-o!" NescaFrodo cried, trying to shake off both Gulp'um and the Ring. They teetered together on the rim of the Cup of Doom. The sky growled. The earth shook. The Dow-Jones crept upward three points and then plummeted ten.

Sanka raised his head, this eyes crossed and blinking. He saw the tableau before him as if it were a great shadow-play; to his horror, he watched as his dear master and that wretched Sméagolatté wrestled and then fell together over the edge of the cliff!

Sanka scrambled up and ran to the edge, throwing himself onto the ground and looking fearfully over with tears in his eyes, expecting to see the worst.

To his amazement, he saw that NescaFrodo was hanging on by his right hand to the rough stone, his other hand was clasping the chain; Gulp'um was swinging at the end of this chain, his jaws tightly clenched on the CoffeeRing.

"Help me, Sanka!" NescaFrodo gritted his teeth, feeling as though his left arm was being pulled from its socket and the nails of his right hand were breaking off, clutching the rocks.

Sanka reached down as far as he could, but he was too far away to touch NescaFrodo's hand. "I can't reach you, master! Give me your other hand!"

"I can't... the Ring, Sanka..." NescaFrodo looked up at his friend, his eyes full of appeal. "I love the coffee! I can't just throw it away!"

"Um... Mr NescaFrodo," Sanka said calmly, "that there CoffeeRing is now in Sméagolatté's nasty little mouth. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to keep it, knowing where it's been!"

NescaFrodo looked down, blinking as the rising steam of the Cup scalded his face and made his perm go completely flat. Sméagolatté was dangling from the chain, like some kind of mutant puppet, a look of absolute bliss on his grotesque face. Appalled and yet compassionate, for this thing that hung from the chain in his hand could easily be what NescaFrodo would become, if he had claimed the CoffeeRing for himself. He could not let go-- he could not just let Gulp'um fall.

"Sméagolatté! Give me your hand and let go of the Ring! There is no need for both of us to die!"

But Gulp'um would not give up the CoffeeRing, now that he had it on his tongue again. He snarled at NescaFrodo and, snapping his teeth, he broke the chain that the CoffeeRing hung; he fell with the Delicious gleaming in his jaws. NescaFrodo and Sanka heard him wailing happily, until he was swallowed up in the bubbling, super-heated java below. He disappeared with a flash, and the CoffeeRing floated briefly on the surface, glowing brightly, before it, too, was consumed in fiery oblivion.

NescaFrodo threw his left hand up and caught Sanka's arm. His friend pulled him up and together they looked down, observing the fate of the CoffeeRing and Sméagolatté.

The destruction of the CoffeeRing was causing the mountain to explode, shooting jets of boiling java into the air. Still, NescaFrodo lingered at the dangerous edge, muttering softly, "I tried to save him, Sanka," he said sadly. "He still owes me ten silver pennies..."

"Nevermind that, Mr NescaFrodo! Let's get out of this awful place! We came, we saw, we spilled the coffee... our work here is done!"

"Very well, Sanka. I will go, if you wish it."

"I do!" said Sanka, feverently. He took his master's arm and hustled him out of the mountain and back down the path, until they were cut off from escape by the rivers of molten java that flowed down from the volcano's belching cone. The rocks they were on quickly became an island amid all the horror and destruction. Soon they would be overcome by the steam and the tonnes of burning, liquid caffeine. They climbed as high as they could, then sat down to await the end.

NescaFrodo let his head fall back on the stones, exhausted and full of despair. He knew that he and Sanka were going to die, soon. At least, he reflected without bitterness, at least the rest of the world would be safe, and good coffee and freedom would belong to the people of Middle-girth again. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the Shire, his home, which he suddenly remembered clearly again. He could see TeaBagEnd, and the garden, and the Party Field, and the StarBrandyBucks on the corner of the village market, and the other StarBrandyBucks that was right across the street. It filled him with a sense of peace and contentment; somewhere, there would be a place where folks could drink coffee without fear.

"Sanka," NescaFrodo's voice was but a whisper. "If we ever get home to the Shire again, I want you to promise me two things..."

"Yes, Master?" asked Sanka, who had sank down next to his friend, also exhausted and despairing of life. "If we ever get home to the Shire, I will promise you anything!"

NescaFrodo opened his eyes and looked at his friend. "First, you are no longer a mere gardener, but a GentleHalf-caff, so you don't have to call me Master anymore. And second," NescaFrodo let his eyes close and his head fell back again, "I never want to see another cup of coffee as long as I live! From now on, I am drinking tea!"

"Amen, Mr NescaFrodo," said Sanka, looking upward at the three giant flying bagels that were coming steadily toward them, intent on rescue, "Er... can I get that in writing, sir?"