Wow, thank you so much for all of the kind reviews guys! You got a chapter on time this week in return •hands out assorted cookies with big grin•

This chapter will bear witness to the beginning of Strider's disturbing memories, Frodo's uselessness, and the age-old argument as to the existence of a certain fruit (and yes, it is a fruit).

XXX

In his chamber Saruman stood, hand poised above the Palantír. Within its depths there blazed a hidden fire.

"The power of Isengard is at your command, Sauron, Lord of the Earth."

An angry squawking erupted from the Palantír.

"Sorry," said Saruman sheepishly, "wrong number."

He redialed, and after much small talk concerning Saruman's new pumps Sauron hissed down the line: "Build me an army worthy of Mordor!"

For a while Saruman sat in his study, deep in thought. A couple of orcs shuffled in.

"What orders from Mordor my Lord? What does the Eye command?"

"We have work to do!" he snarled.

The orcs shuffled back out again. The shorter of the two grumbled: "And by 'we' he means 'us'."

"I heard that!"

And a brand new stiletto heel came flying past and smacked the taller of the two in the eye. The other promptly ran off as Saruman emerged, wielding the other like nunchucks.

XXX

Atop the Pinnacle of Orthanc, Gandalf finally awoke. The rain was coming down quite hard, and he wished he had brought an umbrella.

"I wonder where Saruman is?" he said out loud. "He must've accidentally locked me out."

He faintly recalled doing some serious breakdancing. What had happened? Perhaps he and Saruman had gotten drunk. Yes, that must have been it. The guy had gotten so hammered he'd accidentally left Gandalf up here. And knowing Saruman, it was gonna be a few weeks until he sobered up enough to realise his mistake.

Gandalf shrugged, and amused himself by counting his toes.

XXX

In Isengard below, swarms of orcs hacked and pulled at the trees fringing Fangorn Forest. Saruman came down to observe them, ignoring the calls of Gandalf from atop Orthanc, requesting an umbrella.

"The trees are strong, my Lord," said one orc. "Their roots go deep."

"Rip them all down."

XXX

Meanwhile, Strider and the hobbits continued to trek towards Rivendell. Soon a hill rose before them, shaped like a mushroom, with an ancient ruin sitting on its peak. Strider stopped and looked upon the hill, his hair stirring in the breeze.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl." He sighed. "And this was where me and my beloved made sex eighteen times in one night, and still managed to finish off a whole pizza. We covered the entire Karma Sutra, and invented a few new positions. Number 18 was my favourite." He touched a hand to his crotch and smiled in memory. The hobbits just stared at him, and decided they didn't like this new, sharing Strider. "Good times… We shall rest here tonight."

And so they did. The hobbits all took off their packs and rubbed at their aching feet. Strider unfurled a bundle and revealed four short swords.

"These are for you," he said, handing them over.

"Where did you get four hobbit-sized swords?" asked Sam, suspicion in his voice.

"Look," said Strider, "do you want the bloody things or not? Never mind the gaping plot holes."

Sam promptly shut up.

Strider smirked.

"That's better, Keep them close. I'm going to have a look around. Stay here."

XXX

In a quiet knoll on the side of Weathertop, the hobbits sat about a small fire, cooking their supper. Only Frodo could resist the temptation of food, and had dozed off some time ago.

"Can I have some meat?" whispered Pippin.

"Okay," said Merry. "Want some tomatoes Sam?"

Sam frowned.

"Tomatoes don't exist in Middle Earth, you pillock."

They just ignored him: "Great tomatoes!"

Frodo, who was sleeping nearby, woke with a start.

"What are you doing?"

Merry gave him a WTF? face.

"We're dancing the Flamenco. What does it look like?"

Frodo jumped up and started stamping on the fire: "Put it out, you fools! Put it out!"

"Oh that's nice!" said Pippin. "Ash on my tomatoes!"

Sam rounded on him.

"THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS TOMATOES YOU RETARDED APPLE CHEWING FUCKWIT!"

Suddenly, in the wilderness below, the scream of a Nazgûl pierced the silence. The hobbits all scrambled to their feet, and saw five wraiths approaching.

"Oh crap."

And they all ran, as fast as their little hobbit legs could carry them, which, quite frankly, wasn't very fast at all, until they reached the top of the ruins, and the wide open space which was there. The extremely conspicuous wide open space into which the Nazgûl could drive them and cut them into itty bitty little hobbit pieces.

Idiots.

The wraiths drew their long and pointy swords, and made for them. Sam got slightly angry, and cried: "Back you devils!" before jumping forwards and waving his sword a bit. Their blades didn't even budge, and Sam was thrown back, clearing the Nazgûl's way to Frodo.

Merry and Pippin stepped in front of him, and were promptly thrown aside. And so it all came down to Frodo, son of Drogo, to stand against these foul creatures, defend the Ring, and save all of Middle Earth in the process.

He fell to the ground, and screamed like a sissy.

But once again, the Ring whispered to him, and he drew it from the folds of his shirt and stared at it. The Witch King, head of the Nazgûl, drew a long dagger and came for him. Seeing no other choice, he put on the Ring.

Immediately the world became all swishy and bright. Before him stood the Nazgûl, tall and terrible, their helms pointy and their faces rotted. By some rather evil force, the Witch King drew the Ring towards him, and Frodo had a hell of a time keeping it away.

"It's mine!" he hissed. "Get yer own!" And he wrenched his hand away with a great deal of effort, and just slightly ticked off, the Witch King proceeded to gut him like a catfish.

"YAAAARGGGHHH!" Frodo squealed. "My spleeeen!"

Just at that moment, Strider came to the rescue, leaping at the Nazgûl with a flaming brand. The Witch King pulled his dagger out of Frodo, who wrenched off the Ring and lay there, shrieking like a girl.

"Frodo!" yelled Sam, who rushed to his side.

"Oh Sam," he sobbed.

And they shared a moment. Awww.

Oh yeah, and Strider was left with the rather difficult task of driving away the Nazgûl. He waved about his sword and set them all alight. Unfortunately for them there were no fire extinguishers on hand, and so they ran away, also screaming like girls.

Sissies.

"Strider!" pleaded Sam. "Help him Strider!"

Strider batted at his sleeve, putting out the small fire that was raging there, and then rushed to Frodo's side and found the broken hilt which had stabbed him. He picked it up.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." The knife dissolved in his hand, and he dropped it in disgust. "This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs elvish medicine."

He picked up Frodo and they all hurried away from that accursed place. But Sam wasn't satisfied.

"Just where did you go running off to anyways?" he asked angrily.

"I was around."

"Yeah, well, you could've been around a lot sooner."

Strider rolled his eyes.

"I had to inexplicably vanish so as to heighten the tension and leave the Witch King free to stab Frodo m'kay?"

"Huh?"

XXX

Hours or days later, Sam couldn't remember which by now, they all hurried through a dark forest, led by the light of a few torches. The Nazgûl were not far. Their screams could be heard on the wind.

"Hurry!" yelled Strider, who had Frodo dangling from his shoulder.

"What do you think I'm doing?" shouted Sam, leading Bill the pony at a near gallop. "We're six days from Rivendell. He'll never make it!"

"Of course he'll make it," said Merry with a snort. "He's the lead character. No use killing him off an hour into the movie."

Frodo just groaned again, and said: "Gandalf!"

"Hold on Frodo," murmured Strider, noting that he had gone delusional. Of course he wasn't Gandalf. He was young and virile for one thing…

"Gandalf!" screamed Frodo, close to orgasmic this time.

XXX

But the wizard was in no position to help at the moment. He sat atop the Pinnacle of Orthanc, huddled against a spike, cold and drenched with rain. He was really beginning to suspect that Saruman might have betrayed him. It was quite uncomfortable up here, and there didn't seem to be any way down. There was a private elevator used by the white wizard, but he couldn't get into it. Without his staff, he was pretty useless.

He reached out suddenly, and caught a moth in his hand. He'd been catching flies to eat the past few days, but maybe this creature could help him out.

"Gwaihir," he whispered to it. "Go to Gwaihir. And tell him to bring some nachos. I'm starving up here."

The moth flew quickly into the night air. Below him, a lot of forging and hammering and breeding was going on below. And not the good kind of breeding. Orc breeding. Yuck.

Saruman watched all of this with pleasure.

Sicko.

XXX

In Trollshaw Forest they rested, right beneath the huge, looming figures of, well, trolls. It didn't take a genius to guess how the place had gotten its name.

"I wonder," said Pippin, scratching his chin, "how this place got its name?"

Merry just whacked him with a nearby stick.

"Mr. Frodo?" asked Sam, crouching over the sick hobbit. He held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Merry and Pippin glared at him. "He's going cold!"

"Is he going to die?" sobbed Pippin.

"He's passing into the shadow world," said Strider. "He will soon become a wraith like them… But let me tell you about a beautiful place called hobbit heaven…"

A Nazgûl screamed in the distance.

"They're close," said Merry.

"Sam," said Aragorn, taking the fat hobbit aside. "Do you know Athelas plant?"

"Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil."

"Kingsfoil?" said Sam. "That's a weed."

"It may help to slow the poison," Strider explained. "Hurry!"

And so they both hurried, searching through the undergrowth by the light of their torches. Strider was the one to come upon the plant first, and took a blade from his belt in order to cut some. He stopped though, when he felt the cold of a much larger blade at his throat.

"What's this?" said a female voice. "A ranger caught off his guard? Is that Andúril in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

Strider turned, and smirked a little. Boy howdy, he was gonna get some tonight.