OneSizeFitsAll: Sorry I diverged a bit from what we discussed in our planning symposium - I was in a hurry to get it published. The title is from the LOTR honest trailer (so you don't waste your time with dumb YouTube videos? Really?). Lily Lindsey-Aubery: Yes, text speak is weird. Try out Lingo2Word - it's rather interesting. Rousdower: Hmm, commies...yes. Well, no spoilers... As for Loki's line - well, I'm a bit of a kleptomaniac when it comes to movie lines. :P Zane's Girlfriend: Thanks! XD FurionKnight: Here you go!

Oh, yes... Sorry this chapter is extremely random.

Chapter 11: Party Line on the Palantir

"It still doesn't look done."

Celeborn poked the eleventh toothpick into the coffeecake, but it came out as goo-coated as the first one.

"Maybe the temperature isn't high enough," he said.

"The recipe says three hundred and fifty degrees," said Aarlok. He and his cousin Mornok had been relieved from service in the orc army and were filling in as cooks in Barad-Dur.

"Farenheit, right?" said Celeborn. "Maybe it's a European oven and it's set to Celsius."

"It won't cook because you keep opening the door," said Elrond.

Elrond had been brought to Barad-Dur not long ago to act as on-site medical personnel and health inspector. There being little need for his services in either capacity, Sauron had relegated him to janitorial duties. The former elven lord was taking a break from mopping floors to help Celeborn and the orcs in the kitchen - "help" in his usual manner, which was to sit by and offer advice.

"I hope it finishes cooking in time," said Celeborn, shutting the door. "Are the eggs done yet?"

"Looks like they were done a long time ago," said Mornok, surveying a collection of dark lumps in the bottom of the frying pan.

"Oh dear. I forgot about them," said Celeborn. "I didn't realise that eggs cooked that fast. Well, we will have to cook some more. Where's the bacon?"

"It's still frozen," said Aarlok, his upper portions inverted into the chest freezer that stood in one corner and his short orc legs waving about in the air.

"We can put it in the microwave to defrost it. I hope we can get it cooked before she awakens."

He glanced anxiously at the clock.

"It won't fit in the microwave," Aarlok announced.

"I'll cut some off," said Celeborn, picking up a knife.

He tried to separate the strips of bacon, but found that he could not insert the knife between the frozen layers. He glanced at the clock again and started sawing on one end of the icy chunk.

"You're mangling it," said Elrond who had grown hungry and begun to snack on the brown sugar.

"I can't get it to come apart!" said Celeborn, sawing desperately. "Here, you have a try," he said, pushing it towards Aarlok. "Orcs are good at that sort of thing."

Aarlok turned the frozen block over and over, prodding it violently with the knife, but without effect.

"You only have to get a piece off small enough to fit in the microwave," said Celeborn, rubbing his frost-bitten and greasy hands together.

" 'Ere, let me ave a go at it," said Mornok.

Up at the top of his tower Sauron took the cloth cover off of his palantir and sat down in front of it. In its murky depths he could indistinctly see the throne room of Minas Tirith and Beregond's anxious face.

"Hello," said Sauron.

"H-hello."

"Nothing to report?"

"Not today, your lordship."

"I sent a work detail from our labour camps to assist in rebuilding the damaged portions of the city. Has it arrived yet?"

"Yes. It arrived this morning," said Beregond, referring to a sticky note he had posted on the throne.

"Have you talked to them?"

"No."

Sauron shifted uncomfortably. "There may be some trouble-makers in the lot," he said. "I just wanted to get them out of Mordor."

"Oh," said Beregond, evidently wondering what he was supposed to say next. Sauron could hear the door at the further end of the hall clang open and shut again and someone in dirty black clothes strode up to the table.

"How are you, Beregond?" said a scratchy voice. "Can I borrow your palantir?"

"Who's that?" asked Sauron. "Don't let him use the palantir. It's for your personal use only."

Horrified, he started back as Aragorn's face suddenly appeared large and distorted in the palantir.

"Hello, Sauron," said Aragorn. "Nice to see you again. I've got a little surprise for you."

"What is it?" said Sauron suspiciously.

"You'll see soon enough. But you won't like it. You were looking for me, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, here I am. Come and get me." With that, Aragorn proceeded to make provoking faces in the palantir while Beregond made furtive attempts to pull him away. The door at the end of the room clanged again and someone else's voice intruded into the conversation.

"Is Sauron on the line? Let me talk to him!"

"No!" said Sauron. "Not him again!"

Eomer pushed Aragorn aside and supplied his own face.

"Don't think I'll leave you alone until you tell me where my sister is!" said Eomer.

"Get off the palantir and get to work!" said Sauron. "That's what I sent you there for."

"I'm tired," said Eomer. "I had to walk all the way here. And why should we have to repair this dump anyway? We didn't break it down. You did."

"Do as I say or you'll repent it," said Sauron. He would have come up with a better threat but he was distracted at the moment by a strange smell trickling into his room. "Don't go anywhere, Beregond," he said. "I'll be right back."

Sauron pushed open the green beize door of the kitchen and stopped suddenly. Aarlok was jumping up and down on a ten-pound block of bacon, emitting orcish war cries and brandishing a large butcher knife. As Sauron opened the door, the weapon flew from Aarlok's greasy hands, described a dazzling arc through the smoky air, and rebounded with a deafening clang from the visor of Sauron's helmet.

"What's going on?" asked Sauron, when he had recovered from the assassination attempt. "Why are you throwing knives about? And what's all the smoke I'm smelling? Are you trying to burn down my tower?"

"Don't worry," said Celeborn quickly. "It's stone, so it won't catch on fire. We were just cooking breakfast."

"Is that what's smouldering in my oven?" asked Sauron.

Celeborn spun around and jerked the oven door open. A lot of smoke billowed out.

"By the Valar! It finished cooking the minute I turned my back on it," said Celeborn. "It did it on purpose, too."

"It was too sugary anyway," said Elrond.

"What are you trying to do?!" demanded Sauron.

"I'm making Lady Galadriel breakfast," said Celeborn. "Don't you know what day it is?"

"No. I don't keep track of anniversaries."

"It's not an anniversary. It's Mothers Day. I don't suppose you've called your mother yet this morning?"

"I haven't got a mother," said Sauron. "Is she going to take the day off? Because I don't have a backup secretary."

"Have you done anything for the other women in your life?" demanded Celeborn.

Sauron brought his thoughts back from contemplating a list of possible stand-in secretaries with difficulty. "I don't have any women in my life," he said. He turned to Elrond. "Get back to work!"

"I mopped the hall," said Elrond icily.

"But you haven't dusted my study yet. Do it at once, or..."

"Or what?"

"Or..." Sauron lowered his voice menacingly. "...Or you know what."

The colour slowly drained out of Elrond's face and he got up and went out.

"Something smells good," said the Witch King, poking his head through the door as Elrond went out. "Is breakfast ready?"

"There you are; I need you," said Sauron. "Aragorn is at Minas Tirith. Go arrest him and bring him here."

"I would be happy to," said the Witch King. "Unfortunately my fell beast is missing. I haven't been able to find it for the last three days."

"Can't you borrow one from the other Nazgul?"

"That's the problem," said the Witch King apologetically. "I can't find them either."

I meant to get this published last week, but forgot. :P

I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month so it might be a bit before the next chapter.