A/N: Well, this is the product of downloading the Chicago soundtrack for my sisters and mother, and then going to swim practice.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except possibly this idea.
Cell Block TangoThe news report was blaring loudly from the community TV. "In other news, the string of murders of Middle Earth's most prominent leaders is still under investigation. Highlights released to the press include the fact that Èomer, King of Rohan and Lord of the Mark, was found dead with two crossbow bolts in his head…"
Heads turned in almost unison to look at the pretty, dark-haired woman standing in the corner. She spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard. "Pop."
"…Also revealed was that Meriadoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland of the Shire, Eriador is believed to have died of poison, though the authorities are still looking into it…"
Another, smaller woman with long, curly hair smiled slightly. "Six."
"…Mayor Samwise Gamgee of the Shire was found dead in his home. Police counted as many as ten stab wounds on the body…"
"Squish." More heads turned to a deceptively pretty young hobbit lass who was balancing a baby on her hip.
"…Surprisingly, the King of Gondor, Elessar, was found dead, thoug details are being kept under wraps…"
Another dark-haired woman, this one of incredible grace and beauty, watched the news impassively. "Uh-uh."
"…Peregrin Took, Thain of the Shire, was found dead, as was one Ruby of Long Cleeve…"
A third hobbit-lass looked on from a corner. "Cicero."
"…Finally, the Steward of Gondor, Faramir, died as well. Police are looking into these deaths with utmost care, and hope to catch the killers soon." The TV was turned off.
The pretty young blond girl in the group whispered, "Faramir."
The first dark-haired woman spoke up. "You know how people have these little habits that get you down. Like Èomer. Èomer like to chew gum. No, not chew. Pop. Well, I came home this one day, and I am really irritated, and looking for a little sympathy and there's Èomer layin' on the couch, drinkin' a beer, and chewin'. No, not chewin'. Poppin'. So I said to him, I said, 'Èomer, if you pop that gum one more time…'," Here the woman gave a soft sigh. "And he did! So I took the crossbow off the wall and fired two warning shots…into his head."
One of the hobbit lasses stood and chuckled. "Thanks for the story, Lothíriel. Now it's my turn. I met Meriadoc Brandybuck from Buckland two years ago and he told me he was single and we hit it off right away. So, we started livin' together. He'd go to work, come home form work, I'd mix him a drink, and we'd have dinner. It was like Heaven in two and a half rooms." The lass laughed, and then turned sober. "And then I found out. 'Single' he told me? Single my ass. Not only was he married…oh no, he had six wives. One of those Mormons, you know. So that night when he came home, I mixed him his drink as usual. You know, some men just can't hold their arsenic!"
"Nice tale, Estella! Not everyone can do that so cleanly, you know." The child-carrying lass spoke from the middle of the group.
"Now, I'm standing in the kitchen carvin' up the chicken for dinner, minding my own business, and in storms my husband Samwise in a jealous rage. 'You've been screwin' the milkman,' he says. He was crazy and he kept on screamin' 'You've been screwin' the milkman!' And then he ran into my knife! He ran into my knife TEN TIMES!"
Her daughter started to whimper a bit at her mother's tone, and the lass turned back to tending her child, the audience forgotten. Slowly, though, the focus shifted to the tall, Dark-haired Elf-woman. She spoke, but none understood her language. Finally, one of the other girls in the prison spoke up.
"Yeah, but did you do it?"
"Uh-uh, not guilty! The Elf-woman replied.
The third and final hobbit in the jail spoke up. "Yay for you guys, Rosie and Arwen. I'm glad Sam and Aragorn are finally dead too. As for me, well…" Here the lass took a seat on one of the tables, to better see her audience. "My sister, Ruby, and I did this double act and my husband, Pippin, used to travel round with us. Now for the last number in our act, we did these twenty acrobatic tricks in a row, one, two, three, four, five… Splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other. Well, this one night we are in Cicero, the three of us, sittin' up in a hotel room, boozin' and havin' a few laughs and we ran out of ice, so I went out to get some. I come back, open the door and there's Ruby and Pippin doing Number Seventeen-the spread eagle. Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out. I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, then I was washing the blood off my hands I even knew they were dead."
The blond girl nodded at the other women who had talked. "Thanks, Diamond. I love Faramir more than I can possibly say. He was a real artistic guy… Sensitive…a painter. But he was troubled. He was always trying to find himself. He'd go out every night looking for himself and along the way he found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary, and Irving. I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences. He saw himself as alive and I was him dead."
Èowyn smiled at the group, a sweet smiled that had none of the malice her story said she did. "And that, ladies," she said," is how to become a single woman again."