In position. All systems nominal.
I thought that was good news. Then I heard weapons systems powering up and he said:
They drew first blood. They drew first blood...
Anyway, I'm not sure what that means - maybe you can help. But it is also supposed to be a secret, so please forget you ever heard it and read this instead-
The Fellowship breaks through to daylight, where the Taxrog dares not go. Their erstwhile leader, Limdalf the Wizard, has been lost. The fights have been valiant; their losses painful - yet the Fellowship carries on with their quest to destroy the Ring...
[Voto, mournful of Limdalf, wanting to change the subject] "Strider, tell me about Gondor."
[Strider] "It is a majestic land. Great gleaming towers and fruitful fields. The people live in peace and prosperity, and their generosity is legend. Liberty and equality rule the day." [hesitates] "Or so it was when I was a lad. The endless assaults from Mordor have eroded my people's resolve. Gondor remains standing, though the damage is severe. Even if we were to stem the tide of tyranny today, it would take an entire generation to see all the damage undone. The other nations of Middle Class no longer see Gondor as the shining city on a hill, but rather as just another realm declining into irrelevance. I weep for my country."
The band marches onward, the spirit of loss and hopelessness mounting with each footfall. At that unique moment in time when it seemed things could get no worse, the trampling sound of marching dorcs begins rumbling across the plain...
[Boremir McCain] "But I thought they couldn't come out in the daylight!?!"
[Sam] "Oh, no!"
[Jimdli, with bravado] "Be of good courage! Today is a good day to die, for a dorc!"
[Cheygolas] "Yea, verily, my swarthy little friend!"
[Merry] "They're getting closer!"
The stench of patchouli and unwashed underarms fills the air, as hordes of dorcs descend from all sides. En masse, the dorcs shriek out their war cry of "raaaaaaaaaciiiiiiist!" and begin their charge. The echoes of the dorcs' wail give way to the sound of clashing steel...
[Voto] "My blade glows like a supernova!" [Strikes nearby dorc]
Sarahwyn swings away at dorcs, Cheygolas fires rapidly. Strider, wielding his own sword in one hand and the crude blade of a fallen dorc in the other, flails at enemies like an overcaffeinated Sith. Bodies begin to pile up around around the heroes. Jimdli climbs atop a heap of dorc corpses to gain a better striking angle. They are holding their ground, but is it enough?
As exhaustion sets in, dorcs have the company of warriors fully encircled. A grim situation, indeed. The valiant band of patriots braces for a final stand, but the battle is interrupted by the clarion call of a dorc sounding notes on a bonghorn. Dorcs hear the call for retreat and dash from the scene. Chests heaving from exertion, the heroes assess the results. Four of their party are missing!
[Jimdli] "Oh no! The Fellowship is broken! The Ring has fallen into the hand of the enemy! Sauros will rule over us all!"
[Strider] "Be that yes or no, I will not go quietly into that dark night. I will die with my boots on. I will bathe in the warmth of my enemy's blood. Who is with me?"
[Cheygolas, Sarahwyn and Jimdli, raising their weapons. Yelling] "In defense of Gondor!!!" [quartet departs and heads for Gondor]
The dorcs assemble some distance away. There is much jubilation among them, for they hold as captives Voto the Ringbearer, his staunch friend Sam, and the courageous Boremir. Merry the voter is nowhere to be found.
[Dorc captain] "This is a moment of triumph! Sauros shall reward us richly! Let us feast on government cheese and burn much weed!"
[Cheers from the company of dorcs. Celebratory slaps and other abuses upon the POWs]
The festivities begin. Dorcs gather in circles around the campfires and make disjointed sounds on their bongo drums. Hookahs are lit and copious amounts of subsidized foodstuffs are consumed. Soon they are reclined and relaxed. Many drift off into a dope-assisted sleep.
[Boremir, whispering] "Guys, this is our chance! Follow me!"
Boremir, Voto and Sam creep away. Utilizing his SERE training, Boremir silently leads the way through the jungle, away from the dozing dorcs.
[Voto] "What of the others? Did they survive?"
[Boremir] "Sadly, we have no way of knowing. We'll have to assume the worst. Now it is all up to us. We must make our way to the Beltway of Doom on our own."
[Sam, lip quivering from stifled sobs]
The three continue their weary walk to destiny...
Merry, alone, finds his way into a forest of ancient trees. An unsettling sense of being watched causes his heart to race. A robed figure approaches.
[Limdalf] "Merry? What are you doing here?"
[Merry] "LIMDALF! We thought you were dead!"
[Limdalf] "Wha? Oh. No. Not at all. I just had to deal with those idiot tax collectors from the State of New York. They audit me every... single... year...! But I've dealt with that taxrog once and for all - I'm never doing business in New York again! Ha!"
[Merry] "What a relief!"
[Limdalf] "And then I flew out to Hawaii for a few days to play some golf with my buddies."
[Merry] "So that's where you've been all this time!"
[Limdalf] "So what about you? Why are you all alone?"
[Merry] "Tragedy, sir! A huge company of dorcs attacked us in broad daylight. I managed to escape, but I fear the others have been lost!" [crying]
[Limdalf, pulls out crystal ball] "Well, let's see about that." [Peers into ball] "The reception out here is terrible!" [Holds ball up, walks around a little] "OK, I got two bars now. That should be enough. Gotta keep it brief, though, as the Securitywraith has been known to eavesdrop on this channel."
[Limdalf, continuing to peer into ball] "Hmm. Uh-huh." [nods] "Uh-huh, uh-huh. OK" [puts ball away] "Beneath Sarubama's citadel, the Towering Ego, the half-white wizard has been breeding his own army of dorcs. Unlike most dorcs who are limited to sneaky behavior after dark and in smoke-filled, dimly-lit rooms, these dorcs can function in broad daylight. Often with the cooperation of the police. These are the ACORcs! They can be differentiated from normal dorcs by their bright red shirts."
[Merry] "Egads! But isn't it a little racist to call Sarubama 'half-white'?"
[Limdalf] "No, silly. I'm not talking about his skin. If you were to go to Ye Olde Home Depot to attempt a paint match, you'd find that Sarubama is exactly 50% "surrender flag" white and 50% "commie ideologue" red. Combined, that makes him pink. A pinko. But if I call him the Pink Wizard I catch hell from the No on 8 crowd. It's easier to just call him half-white."
[Merry] "I see."
[Limdalf] "The rest of the Fellowship have survived, but they are scattered. Boremir, Voto and Sam are continuing towards the Beltway. Strider, Jimdli, Sarahwyn and Cheygolas go to defend Gondor. And Sarubama is cooking up a scheme to nationalize the healthcare system and bankrupt Medicare."
[Ancient tree, excitedly] "WHAT!!!???! How dare he!"
[Limdalf and Merry startle at seeing a talking tree]
[tree] "I am AARPent, the seniormost seasoned citizen in this forest. Do not be alarmed. We have no issue with you, but we shall have our vengeance on Sarubama!"
AARPent lets out a yell which stirs numerous trees, both young and old, to action. They pick up signs and barge right into a townhall meeting going on in the Towering Ego. A fracas ensues and by the end the Towering Ego is much less towering...
[Limdalf] "Merry, let us go and catch up with our brothers in defense of Gondor!"