Sorry I didn't update as soon as I would have liked. The site wouldn't let me upload documents for three days.
And now, without further adieu, I give you the next chapter to this story! Yay!
(Announcer: This time on Stranded, the voting off occurs. But, before that happens, let's check in on all of our teams to see what they're doing to survive on the island! Isn't it so exciting?)
The Dysfunctional Dorks (Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor)
Boromir walked into the half-charred jungle with a hand to his face.
"I wonder how bad it really is…" He murmured to himself as his finger went over one of his charred off eyebrows. "I really wish I had a mirror right now…"
As soon as he said those words, Boromir tripped on something, falling face-first into a large mud puddle. He sputtered and got up and looked to see what he had tripped over. After looking on the ground, he found something unnatural on it and picked it up.
It was a round, dark green object that had hinges on one side of it. When Boromir flipped it over, it had some writing on it in a lighter shade of green.
"L.G." Boromir read out loud. "L… and then a G… Light Green? Largely Gross? Lord G? Lady G? Hmm…" He looked at what else was engraved on the mysterious object. It was a light green leaf. "Leafy Green?" Boromir thought aloud to himself, still trying to solve the mystery of this object.
He observed it more, turning it over and over in his hands. "What is this thing?" He murmured. He turned it over a few more times in his burned hands. Suddenly, he noticed something else about this mysterious object. There was a seam that ran down the middle and connected itself to the hinges.
"I think I'm supposed to open it…" Boromir thought aloud. He managed to pry it open and inside… he saw a hideous picture of a man. His face was the size of a grapefruit so that his eyes were practically shut and it was purple. One of his eyebrows was missing and looked as if it had been scorched away. His hair was also uneven and some bits looked charred. He had some mud on his face as well as in his hair. When Boromir saw this image, he screamed and threw the hideous picture away from himself.
Putting a hand to his heart, he said, "I feel really bad for whoever that Lord G is if that's a picture of him. Or if that's Lady G's husband…" Boromir shuddered. "I pity her. Wait a minute…" Boromir went over to where he had thrown the "picture". When he looked at it now, it reflected the sky, except for one large crack down the middle.
Boromir picked it up and looked into it. The hideous man re-appeared. Boromir grimaced. The man in the picture grimaced. Boromir put a finger to his nose. So did the man in the picture.
"Wait a minute… that's not a picture!" Boromir cried out. "That's me!" He looked into the broken compact mirror and put a hand to his face in horror. "My face! Why? Why!"
He then heard a cry of, "OI, BOROMIR!"
"WHAT? WHO IS IT?" Boromir responded.
"C'MERE! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH RE-BUILDING OUR CAMPSITE AFTER WHAT FATHER DID TO IT!" Faramir replied.
"OKAY! I'M COMING!" Boromir replied and walked away, carrying the broken compact mirror with him.
Legolas let out a cry of despair behind the tree he had used for hiding. "My mirror! No!" He was about to go after Boromir, when Glorfindel put a hand to Legolas' mouth and restrained him.
"Shh!" Glorfindel said. "Don't blow our cover!"
"Oh, fine!" Legolas said, and took out another identical compact mirror, opened it, and admired how good his hair looked in this light.
"I'm here, Faramir." Boromir said. "What do you need me to do?"
Faramir turned around, saw Boromir, and gasped and jumped several feet into the air.
"What?"
"Sorry, Boromir! I'm just not used to seeing you like that!" Faramir apologized.
"It's okay, Faramir." Boromir said with a sigh and flipped out the compact mirror and looked at himself in its broken surface. "Neither am I! Hey, Faramir? What do you think 'L.G.' stands for?"
"'L.G'?" Faramir re-iterated. "I don't really know. Why?"
"I found this compact mirror when I was walking in the jungle… I think I tripped over it." Boromir explained as he handed the compact mirror to Faramir, who daintily took it and examined it. "It has the initials 'L.G.' engraved in it."
"'L.G.'" Faramir murmured, running a hand over the script. "Hmmm… Perhaps it belongs to one of the elves who captured us and took us to the island… But that's just a guess…"
"It could be…" Boromir murmured.
"You were the one who went to Rivendell. Can you remember any Elven names with the initials of 'L.G.'?" Faramir asked Boromir.
"Well… let me think…" Boromir mused, tapping his chin with a finger. "There was this one elf… the one who brought Frodo to Rivendell. Oh, what was his name? Ah, yes! Now I remember! Lord Glorfindel!"
"Hmmm… could be." Faramir replied. "Did this 'Lord Glorfindel' fellow seem like the kind who would be vain enough to carry around a compact mirror?"
Boromir shrugged. "I didn't know him that well."
Faramir sighed and opened the compact mirror to see if it would give any more clues of who owned it. He gasped.
"What is it?" Boromir asked.
"There's a crack in the mirror!" Faramir replied as if that would explain everything.
"Yeah, so? I broke it when I threw it away from me!" Boromir replied.
"You broke the mirror!"
"Yes. So?"
"Don't you know what that means?"
"No."
"If you break a mirror, you get seven years of bad luck!"
"So? I'm dead! I don't give a Nazgul's toe-clippings about the superstitions of the living!" Boromir retorted.
"No, Boromir, you don't understand! Right now, you're living! If you have bad luck, you might not win the contest! And if one of us doesn't win the contest, we won't get our wish of you living and so on and so forth. Plus, imagine if Father had the wish… Imagine it, Boromir! Imagine all of the forests in the world… BURNING! BURNING!" He reiterated to reinforce his point.
"Oh, don't worry, Faramir." Boromir said. "I think I'd be more unlucky if I were to stay on the island. So, since I have seven years of bad luck, I'm going to make it to the final round of this competition!"
"I don't follow."
"Well, Faramir, think about it. Ever since I've been on this competition I've had nothing but grief. I've had to deal with you and Father's quarreling, being kicked in uncomfortable places, and I've been set on fire, mauled by sharks, and stung by jellyfish!"
"Hmm… good point."
"Exactly… so aside from more of these incidents appearing, we have nothing to worry about!" Boromir reasoned. "Whoa… wait a minute! Was I just more logical than you?"
"It would seem that way."
"Wow… what's this world coming to? Next thing you know, Father might join Green Peace!"
"Who knows? Well, anyway, I believe you. But, you're not helping with the construction of the anti-squirrel forts! Your bad luck might taint them!"
"Okay… I'll just stand over here and watch." Boromir said, stepping over to sit down under a palm tree that had been spared from Denethor's pyrotechnics. "Where is Father, anyway?"
A mischievous smile crossed Faramir's face. "Let's just say that Father agreed to be cooperative and decided to stay out of the way…"
A muffled cry came from behind a bunch of foliage. Faramir stiffened, but tried to remain normal.
"Is that…?" Boromir said, getting up from under the palm tree and making his way over to the foliage. He moved it and suddenly smiled. "It is!" Boromir laughed. "I must say, little brother, your knotsmanship is quite commendable!"
Denethor was behind the foliage. He had been gagged by a ripped-off piece of cloth. His wrists were bound behind his back with some gray rope. His feet were tied together by the same type of gray rope that bound his wrists.
Denethor glared up at Faramir and said, "Mrph myrph mrph myrphermir!"
"I know." Faramir replied.
"Is that rope what I think it is?" Boromir said, stooping over to take a closer look.
Faramir smiled. "Yes, that's Father's hair! What can I say, you inspired me!" His expression suddenly sobered. "I guess we should untie him now, right?"
"Oh, heavens, no!" Boromir said, waving a dismissing hand. "He'll be much less of an obstruction and a pain in the butt the way he is! Plus, he won't be able to cause any more forest fires if his hands are bound!"
Denethor's eyes widened. "Mrph! Mrph! Mrph mraph mmph miffilemif! Myrfflemrph!" He said.
"What did he say?" Boromir asked.
"He said, and I quote, 'Wait! No! What are you doing? Boromir!' End quote." Faramir replied.
"Oh… well, we're still not untying him."
Faramir's mood brightened, again. "Okay, then! I'll just get back to work on repairing our camp! And you just sit there under that palm tree!"
Boromir sat down and Faramir turned his back to him to work on the anti-squirrel forts. Denethor squirmed on the ground, trying to break free of his bonds. He also cursed himself for using all of that volumizing and strengthening shampoo for his hair before he died.
Suddenly, there was a sound of something hard falling upon something equally hard. "Ow!" Boromir exclaimed, rubbing his head.
Faramir whirled around. "What is it?"
"A (censored) coconut hit me on the (censored) head!" Boromir replied. "(censored) bad luck!"
Faramir gasped. "Boromir, watch your language!"
"Sorry." Boromir muttered, still rubbing his head.
"Mrph myrph mrph myrphermirf!" Denethor said.
"I know." Faramir replied.
The Food-Seekers (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli)
"Merry?"
"What, Pip?" Merry replied, even though he knew what was coming.
"I'm hungry!"
"You know, Pip, that's really getting annoying," Merry said.
"Yeah!" Gimli said.
"Sorry!" Pippin said. "I can't help it!"
"Whatever! Now that we know our way to our…" Merry looked around to make sure that none of the teams were eavesdropping. The only person who was near them was Bilbo, but he couldn't hear anything, so it didn't matter. "… our secret apple-cinnamon muffin tree, we can get our food from there! We can make a trip later tonight. Until then, Pip, your stomach will have to wait. We've got a lot of work to do; we're far behind the other teams!"
"Okay!" Pippin said. "Merry, you'll get some stuff to make three shelters. Gimli, you'll gather some firewood and see if you can light a fire. And I'll go look for food…" Pippin said and hurriedly began to walk away, only to be pulled back by the other two.
"Oh no you don't!" Gimli said. "If you go looking for food, Peregrin Took, I bet that you'd bring nothing back for us!"
"Yeah!" Merry agreed.
"Oh, fine!" Pippin said. "I'll help Merry with the shelters!"
"Great, then!" Merry said. "We'll make camp on this spot, since it seems like it's not taken. Alright! Let's get to work!"
"Alright!" replied the other Food-Seekers.
Soon, the Food-Seekers had set up their campsite. There were three decently built huts congregated around an area cleared for big cooking-fires.
"Excellent." Merry said. "Now, let's go get us some…" Merry looked around to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. "… apple cinnamon muffins." He whispered.
The other Food-Seekers cheered and they ran off into the jungle.
"I don't believe it…" Merry said, staring at the empty apple-cinnamon muffin tree.
"THEY'RE GONE! ALL OF THEM! GONE!" Pippin cried out. "WHY? WHY? WHY MUST ALL THINGS THAT ARE GOOD DISAPPEAR?"
Gimli let out a loud sob and rested his head on Merry's shoulder, who patted him on the back.
"There, there," Merry said, soothingly. "It's okay. Just cry it all out."
Gimli raised his head and let out a loud wail.
"What are we going to do for food?" Pippin cried out.
"Don't worry, Pippin." Merry said. "We'll find a way."
"But how?"
"I saw some banana trees on our way here," Merry replied. "We'll just have to live off of those until we find something better."
"Okay…"
"I bet that one of the other teams stole our muffins! Of all the no-good-dirty-rotten tricks, that's the lowest! Whoever did it is going to pay, dearly!" Merry said with an evil laugh.
The other two Food-Seekers added their evil laughter to Merry's.
The King of the Island (Aragorn)
Aragorn sat down after another satisfactory meal of fruits. Chuck had disappeared somewhere; Aragorn assumed that he was off gathering more fruits for his King.
Aragorn gave a satisfied sigh and patted his full stomach. Yup, surviving in the wilderness was a lot easier than he remembered. Aragorn closed his eyes and felt himself fall asleep.
The Hobbit-Hater (just Bob)
Bob sat on the beach, watching the other teams go about their tasks. He saw as Aragorn fell asleep and Denethor tried to wriggle free of his bonds. He had seen the Food-Seekers go off into the forest for some mysterious reason. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know.
Bob sighed and turned away from watching the teams and looked into the sunset on the ocean. It was really pretty… so many colors… Perhaps when he was done with this he would become a water-color artist and travel all over the world and paint different sunsets. That would be a cool job… Of course, the only way he'd be able to do that was if he won the contest and got his wish…
Bob was abruptly brought out of his daydream by a smell that was putrid even to his nostrils. He started to gag and searched for the source.
The Ringbearers (Frodo, Sam and Bilbo)
"Ugh! Sam! What is that?" Frodo asked, pinching his nose and waving the putrid fumes away from his face.
"It's some fried cabbage and asparagus!" Sam said. "Would you care for some?" Sam extended a contrived pan full of steaming vegetables toward Frodo, who made a face and gagged.
"No way!" Frodo said, still pinching his nose. "Sam! You're going to stink up the whole island with that!"
"Really? I don't think so! I think it smells good… and Bilbo liked his enough! See? He ate the whole thing!"
Bilbo sat contentedly on the sand, licking his fingers.
"Sam, he's old. He can barely hear, see, taste, feel, or smell anything anymore! He doesn't know what you're giving him!"
Sam sniffed indignantly. "Fine, then! But you'll be sorry!"
"I severely doubt that." Frodo remarked.
That night, everyone on the island suffered from the putrid fumes of Sam's cooking. Nobody slept and everyone had half a mind to murder Sam. And to make things even worse, Sam's snoring tore through their ears that night and gave them headaches. By morning, everyone was ready for what was to happen that day…
The Voting-Off Of…
That morning, everyone gathered at a spot and awaited Arwen's arrival. Sam, of course, was excited about the whole "voting" process and was already doing some campaigning.
"Vote for Sam!" Sam yelled. "Vote for Sam, everyone!" He turned to Boromir. "Don't forget, a vote for Sam is a vote for Sam!"
"Oh, shut up!" Boromir snapped.
"You do realize, Sam, that you're not trying to-" Frodo began to say, but was then silenced by several hands and dragged away.
"What?" He said to all of the other contestants, except for Sam.
"Listen, Frodo." Aragorn said. "Here's the deal. Sam's been a pain in the butt to all of us recently. His cooking of cabbages and asparagus, and his snoring, can no longer be tolerated! We need to get rid of him! So, don't tell him that the objective is not to win!"
"Well… I don't want to hurt his feelings…" Frodo said.
"Forget his feelings!" Boromir said, giving Frodo a shake. "Think about your own health! And the health of us all!"
"Okay… fine…" Frodo said.
At that moment, Arwen appeared with a flash of light. "Is everybody ready to begin the voting-off process?" She asked. They all nodded.
"Good, then let's begin!" Arwen said and handed each person a slip of paper and a pen.
"And remember!" Sam interjected. "Vote for me! After all, a vote for Sam's a vote for Sam!"
Everyone rolled their eyes and then scribbled down their vote and put them in the ballot-box that Arwen had told them to put their ballots in.
Once everyone was done voting, Arwen said, "Okay, now I will tally the votes." Arwen opened the box and took out one ballot. "One for Sam." She said and took out another. "Sam, again." She took out another. "WHAT?" She said.
"What do you mean, 'WHAT?'?" The voters asked.
"It's what the ballot says." Arwen said, showing it to everyone else. Written there in bold was the word, 'WHAT?'
"That must be Bilbo's." Frodo said.
"Okay… Then I'll just ignore it." Arwen said, tossing Bilbo's ballot aside. Then, another ballot was taken from the box. "Sam." She grabbed a fistful of ballots. "Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, and…" Arwen paused and frowned. "…one for… Bilbo."
A wave of surprise flew through the voters.
"Well… that's really strange. Anyway, in a practically unanimous vote, Sam wins!"
"WHOO!" Sam yelled and jumped up. "IN YOUR FACES! I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!" Sam danced around.
"Sam," Aragorn said, "I don't mean to burst your bubble… actually, I do… but, the objective was to not win."
"Really? Oh. Well, that stinks." Sam said.
"Sam, you're the first one to be voted off the island! Goodbye!" Arwen said. Sam disappeared in a flash of light.
Boromir let out a cheer. "WHOO! YEAH! IN YOUR FACE, SAM! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR KICKING ME IN THE GROIN!"
"Okay…" Arwen said, giving Boromir an odd look. "Now," Arwen turned to face the remaining contestants, "I must tell the rest of you something… in a few days, one of you will be voted off again. You'd best prepare for that session. Well… goodbye and good luck!" Arwen smiled and disappeared with a flash of light.
"Poor Sam…" Frodo said, shaking his head. "He was so used to wanting to win those elections for Mayor that he wanted to win the voting-off! Hmm… I wonder who the one person to vote for Bilbo was."
"You mean it wasn't you?" Aragorn asked.
"No. Why would I not vote for Sam?" Frodo replied.
"Well… I thought you didn't want to hurt his feelings by voting for him," Aragorn said.
"No, I was just saying that to look like the good guy. I really wanted to vote him off with all of my heart!" Frodo said. "So, spill it! Which one of you simpletons voted for my uncle?"
"I didn't," Aragorn said.
"It wasn't me," Said Merry.
"Don't look at me!" Pippin exclaimed.
"Nope." Said Gimli.
Bob walked away. "This is pointless…" He said.
"It wasn't me." Denethor said. "I voted for Sam… otherwise I would have voted for Faramir."
"I voted for Sam!" Boromir said. "After all, he deserved it!"
"That leaves…" Everyone turned to look at Faramir.
"I gotta go to that place to fix that thing…" Faramir said and hurriedly walked away.
"Oh, that reminds me!" Boromir exclaimed and produced the dark green compact. "Aragorn, you know a lot about the elves! Can you tell me if this compact belongs to one of them?" Boromir handed the compact to Aragorn.
"Sure…" Aragorn said and hesitantly took the compact. "May I ask where you got this?"
"I… uh… I tripped over it." Boromir said.
Aragorn then examined the compact and handed it back to Boromir. "It's Legolas'." He stated.
"Legolas?" Boromir exclaimed. "'L.G.' stands for… 'Legolas… uh…'"
"Greenleaf. Legolas Greenleaf." Aragorn said.
"Okay… well that solves that mystery." Boromir said, pocketing the compact. "Do you think Legolas would mind if I broke it?"
"I would think that he wouldn't, considering he has thousands of compacts, but, then again, it is Legolas…"
"Well, thanks Aragorn!" Boromir said. "I'm off to see what's up with Faramir! Bye!" Boromir started to walk away.
"WAIT JUST ONE DARN MINUTE!" Merry exclaimed. "NOBODY'S GOING NOWHERE UNTIL ONE OF YOU FESSES UP! BOB, FARAMIR! GET YOUR KEESTERS OVER HERE! STAT!"
Bob and Faramir made their way over to the rest of the group, both looking nervous.
"WHAT?" Bilbo exclaimed.
"Fess up to what?" Boromir asked, ignoring Bilbo and walking back to the group of people.
"Somebody stole our apple-cinnamon muffins!" Pippin said.
"And we're going to make one of you punks sing like a canary!" Gimli added.
"And where, might I ask, did you find apple-cinnamon muffins on a deserted island?" Frodo asked.
"They grow on trees!" Pippin exclaimed.
"Are you sure that one of you didn't get hit on the head with one of those coconuts? Because I did and after that I though I was King of the Nazgul!" Boromir said.
Bob cleared his throat and glared at Boromir.
"I said, 'I thought'!" Boromir quickly added. "It didn't mean I was! But, anyway, (censored)! Those coconuts really do hurt!" Boromir rubbed his head.
Faramir gasped. "Boromir! Watch your language!"
"Don't tell him what to do!" Denethor snapped at Faramir. "You're not his mother… no matter how much you look like her!" Denethor then turned to Boromir and said, "Son, watch your (censored) language!"
"Hypocrite." Faramir muttered under his breath.
"What'd you say to me?" Denethor snapped at Faramir.
"Nothing, Father!" Faramir replied.
"WHAT?" Bilbo exclaimed.
"Anyway…" Merry said, "WHICH ONE OF YOU STOLE OUR MUFFINS?"
Suddenly, Chuck walked up to the group with an extremely satisfied smile on his face. There were some crumbs in his fur and his fingers looked sticky.
"Greetings, my subject!" Aragorn said. "What have you brought me?"
Chuck grinned and extended an apple-cinnamon muffin out to Aragorn.
Aragorn took the apple-cinnamon muffin and ate it. "Mmmmm! That was really good! Tasted just like a… apple-cinamon muffin… Oh…" He then turned to Chuck. "Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III, you did a very bad thing! Now apologize to these nice people!"
"Aragorn, you've been alone far too long if you're talking to a monkey like it's a person!" Boromir remarked.
Aragorn gasped and covered Chuck's ears. "Don't listen to the mean man, Chuck! He didn't mean to hurt your feelings! He's just jealous of our special bond!"
Boromir rolled his eyes. "You know," he said, "this only proves my point!"
"Aragorn, I never would have expected you of all people to stoop to this kind of treachery!" Gimli exclaimed, shocked. "My bets were on Bob… or Boromir. After all, he did try to take the Ring from Frodo!"
"Oh, just let it go, already, for pity's sake!" Boromir exclaimed. "I was possessed, okay! It could have happened to any one of you! I just happened to have…" He looked at the compact mirror. "… bad luck!"
"And just think; now you have seven years of it!" Faramir commented.
Boromir groaned. Then, a coconut fell from the tree he was standing under and bonked him on the head. "Augh! My (censored) head! (censored) bad luck!"
"You know," a disembodied voice that sounded strangely like Legolas said, "There's no such thing as bad luck! However, there is such thing as a series of extremely unfortunate events!" Then, it was muffled.
Behind the shrub, Glorfindel hissed to Legolas so that nobody else could hear him, "If you keep this up, I'll take away all of your compacts!"
"I'll be good!" Legolas replied. "Just don't take away my precious!"
Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "Princelings." He muttered.
The contestants just scratched their heads, pondering where Legolas' voice came from.
(Announcer: Next time on Stranded, more stuff happens! Find out why Faramir is acting oddly! What will the fate of Legolas' compacts be? How much bad luck will Boromir get? Will the Food-Seekers avenge their apple-cinnamon muffins? Who will get eliminated next? Find out next time!)
That's all I'll write for now. I'd like to extend my thanks towards all of those of you who reviewed for the previous chapter! Thanks!
Anyways, please leave lots of reviews!