Weathertop
"I'm hungry," whined Nazgûl #2 miserably. "When are we going to eat?"
#9 elbowed him.
"Shut up," he hissed. "You're loud enough to wake the dead."
"We are dead," remarked #1.
"But when are we going to eat?" continued #2.
"You sound like that little short person we've been following," commented #5. "Charming."
"You know, he did have some good ideas…"
Nazgûl 2's voice trailed off weakly as the other 8 all glared at him.
"We," hissed #1 angrily, "Do not need to eat. We are dead things."
"But I like to eat," grumbled #2.
"Ignore him," muttered #7, "He's been hungry for the past 3500 years."
"Oh. That's nice," said #4. He had been on holiday for quite a while and had forgotten a lot. He also had a nice tan.
#1 looked up at the hill in front of them.
"Look," he said, pointing, "There's a fire up there."
"Grub!" squealed Ringwraiths 2 and 3, galumphing up the hill happily. They were very hungry.
"No! Wait!" screeched Nazgûl 1 (Well, he always screeched). "We were supposed to be stealthy, remember?"
"Oh. Yeah," said # 2, disappointedly.
Ringwraiths 1 to 4 went up the hill. The other five stayed downstairs to make sure the horses were all right.
Frodo looked down.
"Can you see something?" he inquired.
"It's a hallucination brought on by severe hunger," said Sam through a mouthful of bacon.
"Have some of this, Mr. Frodo."
Frodo moved over to the fire.
"Here! Save some for us!" shrieked Ringwraith #2 loudly, hearing Sam.
"Nazgûl!" yelled Frodo, terrified. "I told you I wasn't hallucinating!"
"Right, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, rolling his eyes.
The hobbits ran out to the clearing, on the basis that there had to be a right plan of action and that this was possibly it.
The Ringwraiths appeared. They were arguing vehemently.
"But I want to eat something!" wailed #2, looking plaintively at #1.
"Be quiet," snarled #1 rudely. "You're going to alert the attention of everything within a ten-mile radius."
"Including dead things," added #4.
"We are dead things," hissed #3.
"I meant other dead things," #4 hissed back.
The hobbits looked very confused.
"Aren't we going to attack them?" asked #3.
"Oh. Right," said #4, drawing his sword.
#2 dashed madly across the clearing towards the large frying pan.
"No! Stop! Come back!" yelled #1, following him. He had his sword out.
"Mmm, crispy bacon and tomatoes," said #2, stuffing his face. "Burp."
#1 tripped over Sam's large feet and crashed into Frodo, accidentally stabbing him.
"Oops," said #1. "Sorry about that."
"Ouch," said Frodo. He passed out.
Meanwhile, Aragorn returned from looking around (in exactly the wrong direction). He saw a lot of Ringwraiths. They appeared to be yelling at each other. One of them was pigging out.
"War!" he yelled. He waved a flaming torch and ran headlong into the commotion.
"Idiot!" hissed #4 at #2. "Now look what you've done!"
"Mmm," said #2. "This is good. Are you sure you don't want to try some?"
"Quite sure," said #4 in disgust. "And say it, don't spray it."
"Sorry," said #2. He took a large bite of bacon, tomatoes and bread and started to choke.
"#2 is choking!" yelled #3.
Aragorn threw a flaming torch at #1.
"I'm on fire!" squealed #1.
"Great," muttered #4 morosely. "Just what we needed."
"This is so much fun," squeaked #2. "I haven't had this much fun in millennia!"
"Is it millennia? or is it millenniae?" inquired #3 curiously.
"Gurgle," said #2. "Splat."
"What was that?" asked #3.
"That," said #4, "Was me, going on fire."
He ran from the clearing.
#2 finished choking and left hurriedly. He did not want to be set on fire.
Meanwhile, #3 had a large and flashy sword fight with Aragorn.
"Die!" yelled Aragorn, tossing him over the cliff.
"Oh dear," said #3 when he landed. "I'm so going to kill #2!"
"But," said #1, "He's already dead!"
THE END
