Disclaimer: Lots of this stuff belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien and/or George Lucas.

Now read.

A long time ago, in a strange brain far, far away, there lived a little hobbit named Luke.

No, not Frodo. Luke. Hey, shut up! What do you know about it, huh?!

Ahem. On with the stuff.

Anyway, this hobbit named Luke had an uncle named Owen, who also happened to be a hobbit for some odd reason that the narrator can't figure out.

Wait. I'm doing this wrong.

Heehee! I meant it to be the other way around! Silly me.

So anyway…

There was once a hobbit living on a moisture farm on Tatooine. His name was Frodo. He lived with his uncle, Bilbo, and his robotic aunt.

No, I was NOT WRONG!!!!! I JUST CHANGED MY MIND!!!! I AM NEVER WRONG!!!!!!!!! I AM THE SUPREME GALACTICAL NARRATOR!!!!!! YOU DARE DEFY ME!!!!!

Ahem.

One day, young Frodo got bored and stood on a dune, watching the suns all day. He was then promptly blinded, and got cybernetic eyes, if there are such.

Meanwhile, up in spaaaace…………

The Tantive IV shuddered under enemy fire, heedlessly racing through space while the captain, Bail Antilles, ate donuts and watched "Everybody Loves Raymond".

Two discombobulated mechanical beings made their way down the hall. One was tall, thin, and blonde-haired, the other short, stout, and very bearded.

The bearded one made a few musical beeping noises.

The blonde one looked down at him. "Of course the captain has been notified! You seem to show an undue lack of confidence."

"Tweedle bleep."

"Gimli! Where are you going?!"

"Beep boop boop."

"The Princess?!" Frustrated, Legolas followed after his counterpart.

The Princess in question (Arwen) rounded a corner and bumped into Gimli.

"Tweedle doo-dee-boop!" (that was Gimli, not the Princess)

Legolas looked down corridor after corridor. "Gimli! Gimli! Oh, where could he be?"

He finally found him, typically down the last corridor in the hallway, with the Princess inserting something into his beard. She looked up and down the corridor, then slipped away.

Legolas shuffled up. "There you are! What's going on?"

"Boop-de-beep tweedle ppbbbhh."

"Don't worry about that right now! Wait! Where are you going? Oh, dear." Legolas hurried after Gimli to an escape pod.

"Well, I'm not going in there. What? The Princess? Don't be ridiculous. Oh, fine. But this was not my idea."

They piled in and launched.

"Odd. The damage doesn't look as bad from here."

"Boop tweedle didilee."

"Oh, shut up, you assembly of warehouse value circuitry."

"Ppppbbbbhhhh."

As the escape pod rocketed off, the Narrator decided to revert back to the original plot.

Luke Skywalker lived in the Shire, a part of Middle-earth that belonged mainly to hobbits. Well, actually, all of it belonged to the hobbits.

As I might have previously mentioned (but I'm not sure I did), Luke lived with his uncle, Owen Lars, who also happened to be a hobbit for some odd reason that the narrator still can't figure out.

Anyway, one day Owen decided to have a one-hundred-and-eleventh birthday. So just before he turned 111, everyone who knew him (which was the entire hobbit population) got together to have a BIG BIRTHDAY BASH, which, to hobbits, sounded very exciting.

So on the night of his birthday, Owen was outside with all his hobbit friends when they all realized that someone was very extremely late. This Someone was supposed to have driven into the Shire earlier this day, but because he sprained his left pinky toe, he sent in a substitute.

Creak creak creak creak SQEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAKKKKK!!!

All the hobbits cringed at the sound of a wooden cart's unoiled wheels coming down the path, and panicked for no reason at all.

Clang! One of the hubcaps came off and bounced down a hill.

"Bloody rental," muttered the cart's driver. "They expect me to pay two hundred a week for this scrap heap?! Maybe I ought to send a few dragons at them, that's what I ought to do."

"Gandalf! Gandalf!" cried the horribly confused panicky hobbitlings.

The wizard-substitute sighed. "For the last time, I'm not Gandalf, OK?" He pushed back his hat wearily.

All the hobbits gasped, panicked.

"Ben?" ventured one. "Did you get a facelift?"

Obi-Wan glared at him venomously. "Nooo, 'Ben' sent me, his younger self from Episode II: Attack of the Clones, his substitute, because he sprained his left pinky toe."

The hobbits kept staring. Hobbits weren't able to grow beards, even short ones like Obi-Wan's, so they hadn't seen one in a long, long time. Some of them had never seen a beard at all. In a sense, beards were so very mysterious that some hobbits likened them to dragons, which were equally unknown to the Shire. There were many rumors about beards, about some that enabled their wearer to spit fire and fly and other ridiculous stuff that anyone with half a brain would know only applies to dragons, not beards.

Obi-Wan hopped off of his cart and started unloading fireworks.

Lots of fireworks.

I mean, many workings of fire.

Or whatever.

Some confused hobbits began speculating that since he owned fireworks, he must have a beard. Well, really…

Obi-Wan and Owen somehow found themselves smoking up by Owen's house, Parcel-End. Owen had gotten tired of the name Bag-End and had decided to change it to something more applicable to postage.

Owen blew a rather nice smoke-ring as the Canadian Government filmed them for a new commercial about quitting smoking.

Obi-Wan gave the people with cameras a rather nasty glare, and settled back as they ran off into the bush, panicking. Then he blew smoke, shaping it with little puffs of breath, and made the smoke into the shape of Zam Wesell's singing ship, making it fly through Owen's ring.

Owen chuckled, then started coughing.

Obi-Wan slapped his back.

Owen started coughing and hacking violently, then stopped and sighed. "Maybe I really ought to quit."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "S'up to you." He blew another ring.

Owen shrugged and blew another ring.

Anyway, now that the wizard Obi-Wan was here, all the hobbits cheered up immensely. One even felt so bold as to pie Owen, who spent the rest of the evening sputtering through whipped cream and chocolate pudding.

Obi-Wan chose one of the older hobbits to help him with lighting fireworks.

"Heyyyy, why does he get to?" whined Luke. "I wanna!"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "I won't hurt you only because you're one of the main characters. But I would consider that a warning, if I were you, because next time I might not be so considerate."

Luke cowered, feeling like panicking.

Luke's gardener, Wedge Antilles, tapped his shoulder. "Hey, Mr. Luke! Your uncle's been pied!"

They ran off to the scene of the crime.

Meanwhile, two young hobbits were lingering close to the tail end of Obi-Wan's rental cart. One of them eyed the fireworks while the other polished an apple.

The one that was polishing the apple looked up. "Find one yet?"

The other, a remarkably hairy hobbit, responded unintelligibly.

This response seemed to satisfy the one with the apple, whose name was Han. "Great. Oh, that's nice. Yeah. Put it in the tent, quick."

The hairy hobbit complied quickly, rushing into the tent with the firework thingy.

Han stood nonchalantly for a moment until he was sure that no one had seen what had happened in the above few lines, took a bite from his apple and dashed into the tent.

The hairy hobbit growled something.

"You what?! How could you forget the matches? They were right there on the — oh, never mind. I've got some. Okay, Chewie, stand back."

The hairy one obeyed, grunting softly to himself in excitement. His real name was Chewbacca, and though he didn't really look like a hobbit under all the fur, he was one.

Han struck the match. "OK…OK…AAAAGGGGHHH!" he screamed as the rocket took off through the tent roof, Chewbacca howling in panic.

The entire hobbit population that was outdoors at the time looked over in surprise as something burst out of a tent and exploded in the sky. They all clapped and cheered at the spectacular display.

Out of the fireworks emerged a rather large bantha with wings, all made out of fire and magic. It swooped around for a little while, then came a bit close to the ground.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" everyone yelled, panicking, afraid it might spill the ale.

Luckily, it didn't, and as a bonus, nobody died.

"This calls for a celebration," shouted Random Hobbit #26.

"But we're already at one," replied Random Hobbit #54.

"Then let's party!" yelled Random Hobbit #152763.

"YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!" all the hobbits screamed, and drank lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots (hi! Just checking if you'd catch this in the middle of the paragraph) and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of ale. Barrels and barrels of ale. ALE!!!!!!!

Obi-Wan suddenly popped up behind Han and Chewie, grabbing their ears tightly. They howled in panic, spilling their ale.

"I think I'm supposed to say something along the lines of, 'You're very naughty hobbits,'" grated Obi-Wan.

Han and Chewie found themselves as the next shift of dishwashers.

Chewie moaned something.

"Oh, shut up," snarled Han.

The hobbits were getting sleepy and drunk, so they decided to wrap up the party and demand a speech from the hobbit who was presently having a birthday.

"SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!" Then, as they all ran out of breath, Owen stepped up onto an overturned crate and grinned at them. "Hiiiii!!!!!"

Everyone cheered loudly, having regained their breath.

Owen scratched his head, then remembered why he was there. "Today is my eleventy-first birthday!" he exclaimed, sounding rather drunk. "I know I'm supposed to say something confusing, 'bout some people deserving stuff, and others not, but I can't remember for the life of me 'ow it went!"

Everyone cheered loudly.

"Oh, oh wait!!!" Owen cried. "I 'member now. It was: I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

They all tried vainly to figure out what he had just said, and when they realized they couldn't, cheered loudly in panic, thinking he must have meant well.

"So," Owen continued, feeling more confident, "I just wanna let you guys know that I've been planning to have a vacation, one that I'll probably never come back from. OK, bye-bye!" He suddenly vanished.

"NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Luke panicked, Wedge fanning him.

Everyone cheered loudly.

Up at Parcel-End, the gate mysteriously opened, and then the door did the same thing, shutting itself too.

Owen reappeared inside, feeling quite clever.

He was very much startled by the voice that intruded on his thoughts.

Luke, use the Force.

Oops, wrong one.

"What have we here?" said Obi-Wan. "Trying to get out of your party?"

Owen blinked. "Uh, I'm tired and just wanna go to bed now, so, uh…"

Obi-Wan didn't budge. "Are you still using that Ring?"

"No," lied Owen nervously, who wasn't very good at lying, but was good at ignoring evidence that he still had the Ring, like suddenly disappearing in the middle of his birthday party.

Obi-Wan tried to look nice and considerate and said, "Give it up, Owen."

"But I don't wanna!"

"Don't care." Obi-Wan held out an envelope. "In here. Now."

Owen sighed and dropped it in, suddenly imagining Obi-Wan as a giant motionless cucumber. Unfortunately for him, it didn't really take effect, because Owen wasn't a wizard.

Obi-Wan whisked it away and sealed it. "There. Now, about this vacation of yours. Where were you going again?"

"Uh, Rivendell."

"Right. The elves. Well, no doubt you'll like it there, especially due to the fact that they brew ale on occasion."

"Ooh." Owen smiled happily.

"But," Obi-Wan continued, "what of young Luke? Granted, he is very whiny, but he's going to miss you."

Owen's mouth twitched, then he shrugged. "He can come visit, if he wants."

The wizard shook his head. "He wouldn't be able to for long. You know the elves just hate whiners."

"Yes…I know. That's why I'm leaving him Parcel-End." Owen picked up a suitcase he had prepared. "Of course, I'm taking my cigars with me, but he can have everything else."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "That's all there is in there? Cigars?"

"Yes," Owen grunted, trying to lift the suitcase. "Oh, and some clothes."

Obi-Wan gave him an insightful look. "Owen."

…… "What?"

"Did you remember to pack—"

"Yes! I never forget underwear, and you know it!"

"Just checking."

"OK. Goodbye, Obi-Wan."

"Goodbye, Owen. Don't panic."

Then Owen left, being careful to shut the door behind him.

Obi-Wan sat back and stared at the envelope on the mantle, puffing away at his pipe.

Luke entered a few minutes later. "Uncle Owen! … Uncle Owen? Where are you?"

"He's left," called Obi-Wan, not moving from his position.

Luke scowled. "Why? I wanted to ask him—"

"Shut up," said Obi-Wan. "Your uncle's gone to Rivendell. He's left you Parcel-End, in case you wanted to know."

Luke lit up. "And his cigars?"

"Took them along."

Luke wilted. "Awwwwww…"

"Stop that, or I'll leave you here to die."

Luke shut up in panic.

"That's better," said Obi-Wan. "Now, I must introduce you to your mission of great importance."

"More important than cigars?"

"Yes."

"More important than ale?"

"Yes!!" (Sithspawn, Obi-Wan thought, this guy's a minor, for crying out loud.)

"More important than chocolate?"

……"No. Now shut up and listen. I have no idea why you would be the one to do this, of all people in Middle-earth, but for some reason that I can't comprehend, you're the one."

"The one to do what?"

Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath and suddenly looked very mysterious. "To return the Ring to More-Door and cast it down into the fires of Mount Doom, from whence it came."

"More-Door?"

"Yes. M-O-R-E dash D-O-O-R. It's a multi-billion dollar specialty corporation. They make doors of all kinds. Their land takes up quite the area, though." Obi-Wan looked thoughtful. "It was actually a rather nice little valley, considered by many realtors as the ideal summer-home location. Thought of building one myself. Of course, now the valley's all polluted. Completely destroyed the ecosystem, with no thought to sustainability." He looked disgusted. "Wasteful."

(-Little known fact #152763: all wizards possess some interest in biology.)

Luke looked bored. "So what if they make doors?"

"Each door has a substantial amount of explosives built into it. More-Door's plan is first to furnish every home with the ideal door, then make them all explode at once, the latter part of the plan being the more……secretive. Now, I know that in The Fellowship of the Ring, I go off and look stuff up in books. Well, here we're in luck. I did all my research already. The script on the Ring—"

Obi-Wan realized he was a bit ahead of himself as Luke looked more and more confused.

"Oh, yes." He grabbed the envelope and tossed it into the fire.

"Hey!" Luke panicked, tried to take it out, and only succeeded in scorching his hand. "Yowch!"

Obi-Wan looked at the Ring intently, then picked it out of the fire with a huge pair of tweezers. "Hold out your hand." He dropped it onto Luke's palm.

Luke turned it over a few times. "It's not even hot."

"Do you see anything?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Uh…yeah. Duh. A ring. And my hand. And the sliver I got last week…ooh, it's starting to fester—"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "ON THE RING. Do you see anything appearing?"

"Uh…wait…it's some kinda script, I think."

"Good. Now, that script is an evil language that I shall not utter here, but it goes roughly, 'One Door to Rule them All, One Door to Find Them, One Door to Bring Them All and In the Darkness Vape Them.' "

"Hey, that's a nice poem," said Luke, not getting it. "What does it mean?"

The wizard was getting exasperated. "It means, you've got to destroy the Ring before someone evil finds it. The Ring is the key to making all the doors explode, and the Dark Lord will know how to use it. So you've got to destroy it before it gets to him, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand everything…except that part after you told me to shut up and listen."

Obi-Wan felt like wringing Luke's neck, but restrained himself and spent the next hour getting it into Skywalker's thick skull.

Suddenly, just as Obi-Wan finished, Wedge popped up at the window. "Hiiii!!!"

Obi-Wan grabbed him by the collar and dragged him onto the table. "Wedge Antilles, you little spy!!! Do you ALL do that 'hiiii' thing?!"

"Yup. Well, actually…uh, yeah."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "How much did you hear?" he hissed.

"Uh, just the part about a Ring, and the multi-billion dollar specialty corporation that sells explosive doors…gosh, I thought you were joking. You were joking, weren't you?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? No, I was not joking."

Wedge started to look more and more panicky. "You're not going to turn me into anything nasty, like a politician, are you?"

"Now, that's a good idea," remarked Obi-Wan ominously. Wedge started quivering. "No, I'm not going to turn you into a politician…not yet. I've got a better use for you."

"Uh-oh."

Mwahahahaaaa.

Like it? There's lots more…about 40 more pages so far. And I'm only just finished spoofing Fellowship!