The Alien Invasion of Middle Earth
by Gwin Gold
-X-X-X-
Author's Note: This was based off of a random discussion I had with two friends about aliens invading Middle-Earth. This is meant to be a comedy and a spoof, so things probably (make that 'definitely') won't be serious or correct. For instance, Frodo and Gandalf would never come back from the Grey Havens. Heck, none of this would ever happen, but that's the fun in it.
-X-X-X-
It was a bright and sunny day in Gondor. Aragorn and Arwen were taking advantage of the nice day and taking a stroll through the courtyard garden.
"My lord! My lord!"
Aragorn turned to see a courier come running up. "Yes, what is it?"
"Your friends have come to Minas Tirith!" The courier's eyes were wild and bright, and he was breathing hard.
Aragorn's brow furrowed with confusion. "Which friends? If it's those mind-numbing politicians again…"
"No, no! An Elf, a Dwarf, four Hobbits, a Wizard, and…and a ghost, my lord."
"That must be Legolas, Gimli, Pippin, Merry, Sam, and Boromir's ghost." All of them came to Minas Tirith from time to time. "But the others…Frodo and Gandalf? I didn't think they'd ever leave the Grey Havens."
"They are here nonetheless, my lord," the courier repeated.
"Very well." Aragorn glanced at Arwen, silently asking for approval to go and greet his friends. She nodded.
Aragorn headed down to the throneroom. He used it mostly to greet guests; he rarely spent time there. His years spent living as a Ranger had made it so that he had to be moving around or out in the open—not cooped up in a stone room.
Several minutes later, the former Fellowship came into the room.
"Aaye, Aragorn, mellon-nin!" Legolas exclaimed. "How are you?"
"I am well." Aragorn smiled, running his gaze along the rest of his friends. "And what about the rest of you? What brings you here?"
"There's nothing wrong with visiting an old friend," the Ghost of Boromir said, grinning. "Would you rather we left?"
"Of course not," Aragorn exclaimed. "It's so boring here—" He cast a furtive glance to the door to make sure no one (like Arwen, for instance) was listening in.
"It always was," Boromir mused. "Of course, there was that one time Faramir and I accidentally set the courtyard ablaze…that was quite exciting. Except for afterwards, when Father caught us."
Pippin had wandered over to the window, and suddenly let out a shout. "OH MY GONDOR!"
"What did you just say?" Aragorn and Boromir said in unison, giving Pippin identically bewildered looks.
"OH MY GONDOR!" Pippin repeated. "ALIENS!"
"…aliens?" Gimli said, frowning. "What aliens?"
"Merry, Merry, Merry, it's the alien ships from that one show we watched!" Pippin yelped, jumping up and down and pointing out the window. "That one…Star-something, or maybe it was Doctor…"
Merry ambled over to the window and peered out. "No, Pip. From what I can tell those are aliens from pretty much every science-fiction movie ever made. And I've seen 'em all."
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Frodo snapped.
"Gondor is being invaded by aliens!" Pippin shouted.
Everyone now went and crowded around the window. From the vantage point, they could see starships of all kinds hovering just outside of Minas Tirith's gates.
"Oh, dear," Gandalf remarked. "You seem to have your work cut out for you, Aragorn."
"Wait…what…WHOA WHOA WHOA." Aragorn crossed his arms. "No. Don't think you can just run off, Gandalf. You're staying. You're a wizard, we'll need your experience."
"Well, you don't need my experience, so I'll just…" Frodo bolted for the door.
Legolas, however, was faster and rugby-tackled Frodo to the floor. Being much taller than the hobbit, he managed this easily.
"Right, then. Let's get out into the city and warn everyone about the upcoming invasion," Boromir said. He was the image of serenity. "This will be easy; there's no reason to fret."
"Oh, sure. 'No reason to fret', says the already-dead guy," Frodo complained, his voice muffled (it was muffled because Legolas was still sitting on top of the hobbit to prevent him from fleeing).
"GUYSSSS! THE ALIENS JUST GOT OUT OF THEIR SHIPS!" Pippin shrieked.
"Let's show them they won't take Gondor without a fight!" Gimli growled, brandishing his axe.
With that, Gimli rushed out of the room. Legolas, not to be left behind by his Dwarven friend, sprang up and raced after Gimli. When the Elf got up, Frodo let out an oof.
"Shall we go?" the Ghost of Boromir asked Aragorn.
Aragorn nodded resolutely, unsheathing Anduril. "I won't let Minas Tirith be taken by these…these aliens in their flying ship things."
The ghost and the king marched out of the room, leaving four hobbits and a wizard behind.
"Mr. Frodo, since Strider's our king and all, shouldn't we ought to help fight?" Sam asked.
There was no answer. Frodo had scuttled behind the throne to hide.
Sam sighed and turned to Merry and Pippin. "Well? What about you two?"
Pippin exchanged a glance with Merry.
"No…no. We, uh…haven't had lunch yet," Pippin said. "It's the most important meal of the day, you know."
"As well as breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, afternoon tea, dinner, supper…" Merry counted these off on his fingers.
"You're all a bunch of cowards!" Sam exclaimed in disbelief.
"Now, I wouldn't say that," Merry said. "After all, I killed the Witch King—"
"And I saved Faramir when Denethor went berserk and tried to barbeque him—" Pippin added.
"And I saved all of Middle Earth from sure death, losing a finger in the process," Frodo whined from behind the throne.
"Yeah, and I had to carry you the last half of the way!" Sam retorted. He looked at Gandalf. "Don't tell me you're not going to help either."
"I'm not as young as I used to be…" Gandalf hedged.
Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "Cowards." He turned and stalked out of the room.
After a short moment, Merry said, "You know…it does seem a little cowardly to stay here…"
"You're right." Pippin sighed. "Let's go." He headed out the door with Merry following close behind.
Frodo and Gandalf after five minutes of deep thought, reluctantly did the same.
*8*8*
Meanwhile, Legolas and Gimli were fighting off a Rancor (one of those huge, ugly, slimy-looking monsters from Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi). It kept roaring and swinging its fists in the direction of the Elf and Dwarf, to no avail.
"This monster is…remarkably like…a troll," Gimli panted, as he and Legolas got a brief break (the Rancor had gotten its fist stuck in the wall of one of the houses).
"Which makes it all the easier to kill it!" proclaimed Legolas, nocking an arrow to his bow.
*8*8*
As the Elf and Dwarf fought off the Rancor, Boromir and Aragorn were busy battling a few humanoid creatures. They would have seemed like normal humans, except for the fact that their skin and clothes appeared to be rotted. Aragorn supposed the more correct term would be 'zombies'.
Aragorn was trapped in a circle of the hideous fiends. Boromir was on the outskirts, slashing at the creatures. Not realizing that, since he was a ghost, he couldn't do any damage to them. "Boromir!" Aragorn shouted.
Boromir didn't answer. Instead, he kept swinging his transparent sword at the zombie-things.
"Boromir!"
Still no answer.
"BOROMIR!"
"WHAT?" the ghost of Boromir screamed back.
"YOUR SWORD ISN'T DOING ANYTHING!"
"I'VE NOTICED!"
"FIND SOME OTHER WAY TO DEFEAT—" Aragorn was cut off when a zombie-thing ripped its claws down his arm, tearing through the sleeve of his tunic and drawing blood. Aragorn cried out, stumbling and falling to his knees. His sword skidded across the cobblestones.
Boromir, having no way of knowing how to defeat these creatures without his sword, decided to try a random thing and see if it worked. Quickly, of course. His good friend and brother-by-bond was in trouble.
"I am your master! Obey me!" Boromir commanded the zombie-things.
Miraculously, they all turned and stared at him, awaiting another order. Aragorn scrambled to his feet and retrieved his sword, ready to behead all of the zombie-things.
"Wait, wait, just a second, Aragorn," Boromir said. "I want to try something."
Aragorn stared.
"All of you evil…monster…walking-corpse-things, I command you to do the chicken dance!"
The zombie-things obeyed. Boromir, if he hadn't already been dead, would have died from the fits of laughter that seized him.
When he finally regained his composure, he saw that Aragorn was not amused. In fact, the king was glaring at him.
"What?" Boromir asked.
"This is all well and good, but how about you either let me kill them, or tell them to leave the city? There are other enemies we need to defeat," Aragorn said acidly.
"All right, all right." Boromir sighed. "My minions, stop chicken dancing."
The zombie-things obeyed.
"Minions, go throw yourselves off the nearest wall."
The zombie-things obeyed, shambling over to the edge of that particular level of Minas Tirith, and, in single-file, leaping off of it to their deaths.
"Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted," Boromir mumbled wistfully, following after Aragorn.
*8*8*
Pippin and Merry had caught up with Sam. They were skulking along in the shadows while Sam explained his 'brilliant plan'.
"Right, so. All we have to do is get into one of their ships. Then we can use some sort of communication device from inside their spaceship, and tell them to return to where they came from."
"What if they don't speak our language?" Pippin inquired.
Sam ignored the question.
They soon had reached what appeared to be the mothership (at least, that was what Merry called it. Whether it was the correct term or not was another thing entirely).
"Come on," hissed Sam, running towards the ship.
Merry and Pippin army-crawled towards the spaceship, deciding to be more subtle. Unfortunately, they got bad scrapes on their stomachs from the cobblestone…
The inside of the ship was shiny, silver, and covered with very enticing, very colorful buttons. Merry had to keep a tight grip on Pippin to keep him from pressing anything.
After a few minutes, they miraculously found their way to the place where the pilots sat.
"Now all we need to do is find a communication thingy," Sam said triumphantly, beginning to search through the cockpit.
"What do you Hobbits think you're doing?"
Pippin shrieked and leapt into Merry's arms, which concluded in both of them crashing to the floor.
"Gandalf! Mr. Frodo! You decided to fight!" Sam exclaimed, overjoyed.
"Don't remind me," grumbled Gandalf, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. "Now, what are you Hobbits doing?"
"Trying to call the aliens back to their mothership," Sam said matter-of-factly.
Gandalf rolled his eyes, about to say something about how foolish it was. Frodo beat him to the punch.
"THAT'S A BRILLIANT PLAN, SAM-I-AM!" he screamed.
"…did you just call me Sam-I-am?" Sam growled, his voice getting dangerously low.
"Erm…uh…no, no, I did not. I called you, uh…Sam the Champ!"
Sam's eyes were still narrowed suspiciously, but he let it pass and turned back to the dashboard of glowing, blinking buttons.
"Shiny…" Pippin's awed voice caught everyone's attention. "Shiny…shiny…red and shiny…button…"
Everyone wheeled around to see his finger inching ever closer to a large and rather intimidatingly bright red button.
Frodo, however, was unaware of the danger. "I'm tired!" he complained. "I'm hungry! I'm hot! I don't want to fight for Gondor anymore! My back hurts! My feet are hot!"
As he whined, he moved closer and closer to the dashboard. And while everyone's attention was riveted on Pippin, Frodo sat down on the dashboard.
Let me be more precise.
He sat down on the big red button.
Red lights began flashing everywhere, and an alarm bell began blaring. Merry and Sam both stared at the spectacle with wide eyes. Frodo lounged on the dashboard, oblivious and pressing more buttons as he did so.
"FOOL OF A TOOK!" roared Gandalf.
"Oi, it wasn't me!" protested Pippin. "It was Frodo! Just look at him!" He pointed at the other Hobbit.
"Oh. Okay, then." Gandalf turned his furious gaze on Frodo. "FOOL OF A BAGGINS!" he roared.
"Aw, Gandalf, don't yell at me, I was so tired and my back hurt and—" Frodo began, hopping off of the dashboard.
"Can we just GET OUT OF HERE?!" Merry shouted. "This whole place is going to explode!"
That urged everyone into action, and Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo fled for the life. Miraculously, as soon as they were safely inside the city, the whole fleet of spaceships exploded.
Yes, every last ship in the fleet blew up.
Incidentally, when they did, all the aliens disintegrating into nothing.
*8*8*
Aragorn and Boromir planned and executed a huge celebratory party, to which every last person in Minas Tirith was invited.
Legolas and Gimli engaged in a drinking competition, while Pippin and Merry engaged in a similar competition—only theirs was a cookie-eating contest instead.
Sam and Gandalf stayed in the background, munching on healthy treats like granola and celery stalks.
Aragorn and Boromir were in the middle of the room, telling battle stories (rather exaggerated battle stories, in Gandalf's opinion) to a crowd of intrigued men, women, and children.
Frodo was in the background, drinking sodas and whining to anyone who would listen about how he hadn't meant to sit on the red button, it was an accident, and didn't anybody care that his feet and back hurt…
Even though Frodo had technically saved Minas Tirith, there was the fact that the exploding spaceships had rained molten metal and a few sparse remains of aliens who had stayed in the ship, so it had made a huge mess in the process.
Frodo's feet were going to hurt a lot more when Gandalf broke the news to him that he had to be the one to clean up Minas Tirith…