Write Your Own LOTR - TTT - Book III

[DoctorGamgee]

"I'm not the one swigging from a bottle Ranger." Gimli laughed, and threw 3 silver pieces just behind the staggering Aragorn.

"Here's hoping for a massive pile-up." he mumbled and chuckled at his own joke.

[Eruvanne]

Pippin violently woke with a small yelp as a twig made its unhappy home in one of his ears. Removing the unsightly twig, the hobbit thoughtfully rubbed the side of his face. Where was he and how did he get there? Was it by random chance or design? Was it fate that had brought him here or had he chosen on his own to . . . to . . . He decided to look down to see where he actually was. The only thing he found though was a large branch that stuck out that sat beneath two large glowing things, kinda like the green lights on an intersection light. What were intersection lights doing in a tree. I mean, he'd heard rumors back in the shire of crazy people "going green" but this was not really what he'd had imagined. But people are entitled to their opinions, he supposed. But for the life of him, he still could not understand what he was doing on top of such a pole. As he thoughtfully pondered this strange phenomena, it hit him. Well, "it" wasn't actually an "it." "It" was a "him" and the "him" was Merry slumping from where he'd fallen asleep onto Pippin's back, fairly folding the poor Took in half.

"Merry!" came Pippin's muffled voice. "Merry! Get off of me!"

[Laiquendi]

Feeling like a million Gondorian sovereigns, twelve silvers, thirty-nine coppers and assorted change, Aragorn swirled with the heady smell of mouthwash. His teeth were cleaner than they had ever been, his breath was full of minty goodness ready to try out on the next unsuspecting Rohirrim, his nostrils flaired with the sweet aroma of horse dung... ahhh...

Only to suddenly be swamped by seventeen amorphous lumps of desirable "freshness". Each pile added to the weight of the next as he slipped further and further into the dark and murky underworld that lay at the bottom of that pile. Who knew what vile and monstrous beast would finally emerge from its folds? Who dared to get close enough to smell the brand new and exotic fragrances that emanated from the undulating mountain of goo? When will anyone ever see Aragorn sparkly and clean again?

A bubble of pungent glee burst eagerly atop the slimy surface...

[Primula]

Called to action by their Liege (or so Grima has said) the Rohan Pooper-Scooper Brigade was not a group to be trifled with. Immune to scents and sights that would turn the stomach and nose of typical mere mortals, they could take on a mountain of horse...debris.... and render their windswept kingdom as clean and minty fresh as the interior of a bottle of empty mouthwash.

Clicking their elaborate horse-themed faceplates into place (after inserting fresh charcoal-filters, of course) they marched down the main road of Edoras, wide pooper-scoops at ready. Bob the Bulldozer, a huge bull with narcoleptic tendencies, marched intermittantly with them, pushing a huge scooper before his massive chest.

Common citizens wisely ran to the sides of the path as the Scooping commenced, the target being the unusually large and malodorous heap just ahead.

[Primula]

Gandalf settled into the soft horse-hair stuffed chair of the salon and stroked his beard thoughtfully as he tried to decide how much to trim off. As the hairdresser approached, he tried tucking some of it under and angling towards the window to consider the effect in his reflection.... only to have his eyebrows pop up in concern as the formidable Rohan Pooper-Scoopers went by.

They were headed straight for the mound of dung, but as they neared the fetid mound (which had been oddly challenged by Aragorn in a moment of either bravado or insanity) it moved - almost as if it were sentient, but there were stranger things that sentient heaps of dung in the deep places of Middle-earth - and engulfed the minty Ranger, mouthwash bottle and all.

He jumped up from the chair, waving his arms and smacking his hairdresser in the face. "DO NOT SCOOOOP!" he howled.

"What did that guy say?" one Pooper-Scooper asked his companion.

"Something about poop," the other replied with a shrug. "Like we needed to know that. Go on, gee-up, Bob!"

Bob the Bulldozer snorted out of his standing nap and pushed his scooper in towards the quivering mound of "Edoras Freshness".

[Laiquendi]

Submerged in a never ending pile of squelching dung, Aragorn marvelled at how long he could hold his breath... well that was until he started to get very light-headed and began to imagine Gimli in a tutu riding a huge rocket while singing the entire score of The Pirates of Penzance....

Clawing desperately upwards to escape the horrific (and annoyingly catchy) scene before him, Aragorn thrust his right hand through the stickiness trying to find some sort of model of a modern major general. For he was a Pirate King and still the poor wand'ring one. Where were his rollicking band of pirates? For all they knew, he could be filled to the brim with girlish glee (Gimli had moved on to The Mikado by now) and on a tree by the river a little tom-tit sang, Aragorn, Oh Aragorn, Oh Aragorn!

With one final crescendo, a single hand broke the murky surface and Aragorn thrust his face upwards to gasp in ecstatic freshness glory... and came face to face with a very annoyed looking Bulldozer.

Will Aragorn live to see another day? Will the Great Pooper-Scooper crush him to death before anyone notices? Will Aragorn ever get A British Tar out of his head?

[agape4rivendell]

Eomer, mind addled into a somniferous stupor by the noxious fumes, came to his senses when he whiffed the minty goodness of Rohirric mouthwash.

"Wingfoot!" he cried out, but the glue-like substance that surrounded him muffled his voice and the name spoken sounded more like "Ringfoo."

Eomer's eyes blazed, not from anger, but from the stench. He could no longer endure it. He tried to stand up straight, but the foul, fetid, filth forestalled further action.

Eothain, in deep chagrin, with wroth spewing from his mouth, shouted, "Lord, we must hasten from this place. Leave this wild man behind. Do you not see the Rohan Pooper-Scooper Brigade? They will do hideous things to us. Dump us near the Westemnet. Or drop us near the Gap. I do not want to be dumped in the Deeping Wallmart. I have heard tales of falling prices."

Eomer heard naught but the gasp.

[DoctorGamgee]

Gimli had avoided much of the mess and the smell of the brigade, but as he stood along the street, the warm sunshine was quickly adding to the aroma. He searched for Gandalf in the hopes of moving things along as the Horsemen were uncovered from their hiding place and one of them acted as if he was in charge. With the scene as it was, he wondered whether he should ask about heading to the Royal Palace...or Stable.

"Who knows with these Horsepeople?" he muttered to himself.

[Primula]

Bob the Bulldozer stood over the pile, his head drooping down until his nose rested on a lump that looked much like a man's head. Snoring into the lump, he was goaded once more by the attendant Pooper Scoopers who (with hearty application of their shovels and much "heave-ho!"-ing) began the scooping of the giant pile towards a nearby cliff.

Nudging the heap past the "DO NOT PASS THIS SIGN - DANGER" notice and towards the dropoff, none seemed to notice the odd undulations and extrusions that kept popping up from the pile, many of which were waving around and gesticulating in a strangely manlike manner - but then, this was Edoras...

Behind them, Gandalf at last disentagled himself from the haircutting bib and bounced off the door twice before registering it said PULL.

"Gimli! Legolas!" he called, noting at least the Dwarf was about, still standing in the road. "Aragorn is in that pile! Quickly! The future of Middle-earth is in your hands!"

[DoctorGamgee]

"You have my ... er... Noseplugs!" cried the Dwarf as he donned his dwarven haz-mat suit and ran after the bulldozer, hoping to catch it before it was too late...

[Dínelleth]

It is said that no one can see an elf out in the forest unless he wants you to. What isn't so well known is that such can also be applied to settlements like Edoras.

That explained why Gandalf could only see Gimli standing in the road before the dwarf ran after the bulldozer.

It also explainded why a lassoing rope made from long blonde hair extentions seemingly flew as if by itself over the dwarf's head before ensnaring the horns on the bulldozer while the other end snugged itself tightly around a hitching post next to the wizard.

This in turn brought the huge animal to a sudden halt...

[Primula]

As another wave of "freshness" wafted in through the high windows, Grima poked his head out the doorway of the Great Hall intending to command a quicker disposal only to find the Pooper Scoopers were well dispatched and duly doing their decreed duty to the doody down below.

From his high vantage point he noted a telltale helm among the heaving mass approaching the cliffside. "Ah ha...so, Eomer thought he could return to Edoras undetected! I must assure no one gathers him back up and lets him in again."

Slithering out into the front, he caught the guards' attention. "Theoden King has decreed that no one is to allow horse-dung in from outside the walls of Edoras ever again!"

He slipped back inside, leaving the guards to shrug at one another. "Is that inside or outside the horse?" one wondered.

[agape4rivendell]

Eomer's head broke through the mass of goo. But it was not at the top of the pile. He found himself sticking out the side. Looking down. And down.

Far before him lay the mounds of his ancestors. With heady fumes encompassing him, he swore he could hear Helm speaking to him.

"Beware the Ringfoo."

"Ringfoo?" He tried to imagine what the vision was saying.

"Wingfoot, you idiot," Eothain screamed, his own head peaking out of another pile of ... "Never mind that, look!" He jerked his head.

Eomer was distracted. He saw a hand that was not his sticking out from his own pile.

"Wingfood?" he wondered.

[Laiquendi]

Aragorn, completely disorientated from all the bouncing around (not to mention the slimey handshakes, down-hill slalom, stench-engulfing poop and Gimli's singing voice) finally succeeded in clawing onto something solid and began to pull himself out of his gooey prison.

Pushing his feet around, he was suddenly surprised to find a somewhat hard ledge in the steaming pile. "What on earth that big could be stuck in here with me?" he wondered idlely while stamping down on it with all his weight. The 'ledge' squelched slightly beneath him and began to slide further away, but it had given him the traction he needed, as Aragorn pulled himself out and onto more solid ground.

Just as he removed himself from the goo, the quivering mass suddenly shifted again and with an almost life-like scream slid over the edge of the cliff and plummeted to the depths below. He could have sworn that he saw at least three legs thrashing around in the mess before it fell - nah, must have been a chicken or something.

Patting himself down, and using his Ranger Powers to absorb as much of the slimey remnants as possible, Aragorn trotted cheerfully away from the cliff edge and back onto the path to Meduseld...

[Primula]

Bob snorted a blob of goo off his nose and watched the undulating mass fall with sleepy bovine interest, then turned to plod his way back towards the stables. The Pooper-Scoopers flipped the last wayward bits off the ledge and turned to follow, but not before a few of them had made half-swipes at the man they kept mistaking for more of that Edoras Freshness. It was a good thing Aragorn kept moving. Up ahead of him, Gandalf watched in a sort of fascinated disgust as the future King of Middle-earth came ambling back with nothing clean but his smile. He considered his own "White" title and fastidiously edged back from the man's trajectory.

Grima, peering through a crack in the door, was pleased to see the blob go sailing. He rubbed his greasy hands together with gleeful little squelching noises - with Eomer now out of the way, who was to stop him from adding to his collection of royalty? A trophy wife would become him nicely.