I was digging around in my scripts and I found something you guys might enjoy.

Shanzira and Eldrad, C support.

Oooooooogg...

One of those times when being short is a disadvantage. I'm not saying it sucks, by all means I love being short. It's just when you're starving, nothing on the lower shelves looks satisfying, and you can't see into the top shelf...

I've tried looking for a stool, couldn't find one.

But, seriously, there's got to be something good up there.

"Hey, Shanzira." Sounds like Eldrad just walked up, that's the sound of his boots (to cut a long explanation short, I can tell the difference between everyone's footsteps if I've been around them long enough. True story). "Need something?"

Without looking away from the shelf I'm glaring down, I answer: "I'm hungry and I can't find anything to eat." At this point I've passed being remotely constructive about it; I'm just hating the shelf for being so high up and simultaneously joking that HAHA I'M SHORT.

I can tell he's staring at me like I'm nuts or something. "Why are you staring at the top shelf, then?" Didn't I just explain that?

I growl angrily– mind, the angry growl is intended for the shelf, but the response itself is for Eldrad. "Because it's the only part of the tent I haven't checked yet." Yes, I'm in a tent, I can hear the breeze flapping the damn canvas. Makes me want to tie down the extra fabric so it'll stop flapping because it's really annoying.

I hope I'm not getting legit angry over this, that would be stupid.

Eldrad, meanwhile, is taking his time with his response. Thinking it over and stuff. I'd be willing to bet it's a jo– "Shall I describe it to you or would you like me to find you a box?"

"Sometimes," I sigh, "I wanna smack you. And yet at the same time, that was a really good quote." That was straight out of Lord of the Rings, good books. I'm torn... Been patronized, and yet I was patronized in a damn cool way.

Eldrad chuckles at this, and hands me a wooden crate. "Here's a box, anyways."

I flip it over in my hands, considering. "I oughta hit you with it. I'm not fucking Gimli, he's the comic relief." He was more of a snarker in the books, but that's still a form of comic relief. On the other hand, I do snark as well. I'm just cutesy when I do it.

I could probably be a badass if I tried, but it would take some serious effort. And a makeover. Maybe a haircut, but I'd never cut my beautiful hair.

"What, do you expect me to take that role myself?" Oh, right, Eldrad's still here, still a jerk. Kidding.

Anyways, he asked a question. It might have been a joke, but I like to mismatch and give serious answers. "You're too tall. But you sure ain't no Legolas. You're more like..." He is NOT ARAGORN, END OF STORY- "Boromir." YUP!

He doesn't respond at first, but then turns the discussion on its head again. "What's that make you?"

I'm a hobbit, definitely, but gods not Frodo or Sam. Frodo's a damn idiot, and I'm not anywhere near as awesome as Sam. "Either Pippin or Merry. Probably Merry. Yeah, Merry. Name even suits me, see?" Right? Right?

After I've shown my cards, Eldrad snickers. "So I die at the end of the first movie? Also, you're too lighthearted, you're more like Pippin."

I fold my arms and frown like hell. "Pippin's an idiot, he looked into a damn Palantír." I am not that kind of moron, I follow orders. I don't fucking snatch a mysterious glowy orb out of Gandalf's arms while he's sleeping just to mess with it. I don't like balls that much.

Ba-dum-tish!

"Yeah, like I said," Eldrad grins.

I pick the box back up and lift it over my shoulder. "Shall I?" Let's let this action speak for itself.

Sneer. "You can't even hit me?"

The box goes higher. "Wanna bet?"

"You're hungry," okay what's the most random response I can think of, "you can't fight on an empty stomach-" FOUND IT.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" I blurt with all possible obnoxiousness. I hear everything go quiet, as though passersby just stopped to figure out what the hell they just heard.

After a few seconds of silence, Eldrad croaks out a "what?"

I smirk and put the box back down. "That's what I thought." I shift it with my feet, stand on it, and have a look at the top shelf... Ooh, hello, a pie. MINE MINE MINE! I carefully move it off of the shelf, grinning toothily from ear to ear, and settle it down on the crate (after stepping off). I grab a spoon and dig in. "Must be St-" GAG. "OH GOHDS!"

Eldrad takes frantic steps back because I've keeled over and I'm holding my stomach. "What is it?!"

I spit up pie crust and innards, desperate to wash the taste from my mouth. "That pie wasn't made by..." I cough it up again. "Stahl. It was made by Lissa." GAAAHHGGGG. "Blegh! Gods!"

I hear another step back. "I'm not doing CPR or anything."

If I weren't keeled over, I'd hit him in the face with the poison I just nearly consumed. "Thank gods for that," I choke out. "Blukh!"

He walks off like it's not his problem. "Death by pie. Lissa's not going to be happy..."

Finished at school. Support hasn't appeared in the fic, I dunno if it will. I can only fit in so many fillers. Let this begin the next batch of supports, kindly make requests! I live off these requests! I went digging in my reviews for all my requests yesterday and wrote the scripts for all of them. SO GIVE ME MORE! Please?

In other news... The lambentLodestar meme: Post funny new chapter, get no reviews.