Chapter 14

"Sauron?" The Balrog peered down at him. "Where's the rest of your body?"

"It's a long story. You've been hanging out here the entire time?"

"Yeah, ever since Morgoth was defeated. Been chilling mostly."

"Can we come up?"

"Yeah, sure thing. Just go through the hall, make the third left, go up two flights of stairs, take the third right, go down fourteen flights of stairs, take the second exit at the roundabout, hop over the deathly chasm, go through the fifth door on the left, keep right, take the next legal U-turn, make another left, and the destination will be on your front."

"...Did anyone get all that?"

"I have extreme short term memory, sorry," Gothmog said. "Who are you guys again?"

Shelob shot a web up to the hole the Balrog had created and pulled herself up. Saruman used his wizard powers to fly up. Tylenol took an upskirt picture of the wizard as he passed. Mothman burrowed underground and somehow ended up above.

This left Sauron, Gollum, Gothmog, Denethor, and the Nazgûl down below.

"All right," Sauron said. "Let's just follow those directions. It can't be that hard, can it?"

-Thirty Minutes Later-

"WE ARE LOST!" Gollum was back to himself again.

"Wow," Denethor said. "For once that was entirely grammatically correct."

"No signal down here either," Decepticon said, holding his phone up. "GPS is a bust."

Sauron sighed. "Let's just go through the directions again. Third left, up two flights, third right, go down four flights of stairs—"

"I thought it was fourteen," Denethor said.

The Witch-king of Angmar threw up his hands. "Well, that puts us way off track!"

Gollum threw himself down on the floor and sobbed dramatically.

Gothmog coughed. "Are those peanuts I smell? I have a severe allergy."

"Peanuts?" Sauron looked up. "Maybe those belong the the Balrog."

"What on earth would give you that impression?"

"The plot. Now, if you start swelling up, we'll know we're going in the right direction."

"That's evil of you."

"Thanks. Onwards!"

"We don't like peanuts, precious. Not enough boneses."

-With the Balrog-

"This is delicious," Mothman said. The other half of the group was sitting around a table, eating the dish the Balrog had served them. "What's in it?"

"That's a secret," the Balrog said. "I will say, though, that crushed dwarf bones make an incredible binding agent."

Saruman discreetly spat out the food.

"Hey, wizard," the Balrog said. "You seen Gandalf the Gray lately?"

"As a matter of fact, I had taken him prisoner a while back," Saruman said. "But he escaped on the back of a giant eagle."

"That's why you always eat your enemies," Shelob said. "Can't escape from my large intestine."

"Let me know if you see him again," the Balrog said. "Son of a bitch gave me three stars on Yelp and I haven't torn his ass up for that yet." He cracked his whip for emphasis.

A choking sound sounded from down the hallway, making them all look up. A minute later, the rest of the group entered the room. The Nazgûl were supporting a half-asphyxiated Gothmog.

"Yay, we found you guys!" Sauron said. "Does anyone have an Epi-Pen?"

-Later-

"What is it making?" Gollum asked as the Balrog added some ingredients to a pot.

"They're potatoes."

"What's taters, precious?"

"I don't know! Because I'm cooking with potatoes, not whatever hick kinda food taters is."

At the table, Taz looked over at Gothmog. "Aren't you going to eat anything? This stuff is delicious!"

"Sorry, but I'm lactose intolerant and diabetic, and I have a gluten allergy, a nut allergy, a corn allergy, a seafood allergy, and meat often gives me intestinal distress."

"So...what do you eat?" Mothman asked.

"Mostly veggies."

"That's some elvish shit right there," Sauron said. "Laaaaaame."

"AH!" Denethor frantically waved his sleeve as it caught on fire.

"Don't worry, I got this," the Balrog took a canister from the wall and sprayed the former Steward of Gondor with flames. "Shit, wrong one." He picked up the fire extinguisher that was hanging next to the flamethrower and used it.

Saruman raised his hand. "Do you have any cocaine?"

"Cabinet to the left, top shelf."

"All right, as boring as this is," Sauron said. "Since I can't eat anything, and I'm the most important person here...let's get to the reason why we came here. We want you to join our group."

"Why?"

"I found the location of the One Ring. It's in the Shire. I'm putting together a team to go get it back. And thank god it's the last time I have to say that!"

The Balrog stroked his chin. "Well, it would be nice to see what kind of food they have in the Shire. And I hear that Gandalf sometimes hangs out there. Fine. I'll join your group—"

"Yes!"

"On one condition." The Balrog grinned. "You all have to beat me in a cooking competition."

Several protests arose from the group.

"I can't be around high temperatures!" Gothmog said.

"And neither can I, apparently," Denethor said as he patted out some leftover flames on his robe.

"I can't even see," Mothman said.

"Well, neither could Remy under that chef's hat, but that never stopped him from making the best GODDAMN Ratatouille that Paris had ever seen." The Balrog slammed his fist on the table. "Now put on your aprons or I'll skin you and make chicken nuggets from the rest."

"I technically don't have skin," Gothmog said. "Just abnormal growths."

"I literally don't have skin," Sauron said.

"Do we have skin, Khamûl?" Bart asked.

"I'm ready to just fight this asshole and move on," Shelob said.

"No fighting. Here are your ingredients: macaroni, blackberries, English muffins, and hockey sticks. Now make something good OR I'LL EAT EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU."

-Thirty Minutes Later-

Mothman was stumbling around, having no idea what was going on. The Nazgûl were all trying to make different things, taking each other's ingredients and getting in everyone's way. Denethor already had several burns. Gothmog was on the floor, wheezing. Every time a piece of food was prepared, Shelob ate it.

In the midst of the chaos, Saruman was rapidly whisking the bowl of eggs.

"Wow, you actually look like you know what you're doing," Bowser commented.

"I am coked out of my mind right now and somehow this makes sense." The wizard turned to continue his vegetable stir fry.

The only happy one was Gollum, who was munching on fish from the fridge.

Sauron looked over to the Balrog's side of the kitchen, but it was too covered in steam to see what was going on. "It's probably not even that good."

"Times up!" the Balrog announced. "Let's see what you put together."

The Nazgûl had put all the assigned ingredients in a blender, microwaved it for twenty minutes, then added melted cheese.

"The cheese was a good choice," the Balrog said. "However, I feel the hockey stick chunks overpower the sweetness of the blackberries. Five out of ten."

He turned to Gollum, who was passed out in a pile of fishbones. He said nothing and moved on.

Saruman had made an admittedly nice stir fry.

"This is delicious," the Balrog said. "But you DIDN'T USE ANY OF THE ASSIGNED INGREDIENTS!" He hit him with his fiery whip, but the wizard was too high to feel it. He turned and hit Denethor again.

"OW! I'M ON FIRE AGAIN!"

"Let's see what you made," Sauron said. "I bet it was just okay."

The Balrog pulled aside a tablecloth, revealing a five course meal.

"Fried oreos!" the Nazgûl dived towards the table. "Okay, you win."

"No!" Sauron cried. "If I could, I would throw down the Hat of Sauron right now."

The Balrog gave a long, loud laugh. "I haven't had this much fun in a while. All right, I'll join your mission. But in return...I want to cook one of you."

Everyone turned to Gothmog.

"I hate you guys," the orc said.

Thanks to TheDarkLordofDoom for suggesting the Balrog/chef thing. Huge thanks to TheDarkLordofDoom, Guest, and star for reviewing.