You are absolute darlings, not only have you reviewed such wonderful things but my writers block is temporarily under strain! ha HA! Ok, one thing i must beg you to do, 'coz I'm really worried... IS Kelly turning into a Mary-Sue? If she is, or if there is the smallest inkling, please warn me so I murder her or the offender whose making her one. Thanks a lot!

"Run for your life, it's Orlando Bloom!" I shrieked. All the girls within hearing distance turned and stared at me as if they couldn't believe what they'd just heard.

Caitlin groaned and covered her tomato-red face thrusting her head into my shoulder moaning under her breath, "You idiot, now he'll never come over here."

Since I hadn't shouted it at the top of my lungs, not many people heard my heartfelt scream of terror when that brown-eyed bimbo stepped onto the red carpet. I felt no regret for embarrassing Caitlin as she had forgotten to warn me that Mr. Bloom was in this particular movie.

Unfortunately for me, the twerp had somehow heard and his head swiveled around, his eyes wide with amazement, probably not entirely sure he had heard correctly. He pinned the little group of girls gazing at me with their jaws flapping down to their knees and immediately came to the conclusion that not only had he heard right, but that he'd found the culprit. Finishing up the handful of pictures, posters, and other related artifacts held out for his autograph, the dope crossed the red carpet toward Caitlin and me.

I poked Caitlin and whispered, "Your dream boat is heading this way." If I thought that would make her happy I was dead wrong.

"He's probably heard you, stupid, and now he's coming over to ask us to leave." Caitlin moaned.

"Nonsense. I doubt he's ever heard that he is a threat to humanity and it intrigues him. Get a grip, girl, and talk to the bimbo."

"Don't call him that!" She muttered, then flipped her perfect blond hair around and turned to the love of her life.

After doing several autographs, Mr. Bloom then turned to me, an amused grin spread across his face. "How do you do?"

"How do I do what?" I asked, using perfect logic. I heard Caitlin groan once more next to me. He didn't seem to notice.

"Did I hear right or did you call me a bimbo just now?" His grin turned into what Caitlin referred to as the –drop-dead-gorgeous-beautiful-to-die-for-smile. "Or were you referring to someone else?"

Caitlin quit breathing while the few people who knew what was going on also waited with baited breath. I knew that this was my chance to redeem myself in Caitlin's eyes but heck, I was always what Mom called, painfully truthful. "Actually, Will Turner is a bimbo." While I said it, I motioned to Caitlin.

Ok, so the guy must not be that dense because he seemed to take the hint that my best friend would beat me up so bad that I would need plastic surgery before the age of 18. He merely nodded and said, "Yes, I would have to agree with you on that, Mr. Turner isn't the brightest bloody bulb in the universe."

Suddenly, I remembered the bet I'd made with my little brother. "Mr. Turner!"

He turned, looking very surprised that I would call him back. After all, how many girls that have called you bimbo are willing to talk to you after you begin to leave? Probably quite a few, but that's not the point. The point is, he turned, he was surprised, and he was about to get (hopefully) shocked out of his mind.

"I always thought you poor fellows had it rather hard when you come to these things, and I decided that these are perfect for when it gets to be a little much." Holding up a paper bag (Raley's), I smiled sweetly and held it out to him.

Shocked he was not, pleased is more like it. Darn it. "Thankyou, miss…?

"Not telling thanks. Mum always said never give your name to strangers." By this time, Caitlin should be fainting but I wasn't going to end there. "And don't bother asking for my number 'coz you won't get it."

"That is too bad as I was just about to ask but there's not sense in it now, is there?"

"Nope."

"I bid you good day and may the wind always be at your back." He leaned down and whisper in my ear. "I will use the bag, a welcome gift after the tons of phone numbers I've gotten."

Waving goodbye, the bimbo walked off leaving a very pleased me and horrified Caitlin. That night she swore to never, ever take me to another premiere. Too bad she never could.

Someone knocked on the door, jerking me from my thoughts and memories. Boy did I love those, especially that one, although the dancing on the table later that night was a lot more fun.

"Coming, coming. Keep your shirt on." I muttered as I hurried to the door. An indignant Legolas glared at me when I opened it.

"My shirt is on, thank you very much, and it will stay that way." He growled. What a brick, I mean come on.

"It's an expression, buster. I wasn't being literal." I rolled my eyes and stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me. I had decided a week ago to quit acting like I was dumb and mouthed off three nights ago when Legolas once again asked if I would like to see the main gardens. Granted I hadn't meant to, you realize, but that dumb elf was annoying.

"Sometimes I wonder…" he grumbled as Legolas followed me down the hall.

"Now why, precisely, was I called?" I asked as we rounded a corner.

"Oh yes, Elladan is arriving shortly and the Elvenking wished you to be present."

"How come?"

"You will be leaving with Elladan when the time comes for his departure. My father is becoming busier and busier and cannot have anything troubling him." Legolas replied stonily.

Now I happened to know that that wasn't what Thranduil had said. As a matter of fact, the King's words (to quote accurately) were, "Why am I always the one who has to take care of renegades, idiots, mischief-makers, and the homeless, insane girls?" Not particularly flattering but funny none the less.

We were all settled in the throne room (I was squeezed between to ladies-in-waiting) when Elladan entered. Oh no…

"Run for your lives, it's Orlando Bloom!" I screamed.