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Into the West, Again Episode 1, Part 1 Authors: Inwai and Ololay Thank you Rach, the beta reader extraordinaire, without whom our grammar would be a lot worse than it is. All mistakes come from not listening to her. Dedicated to Danni for not killing us when we wouldn’t shut up on the Ellsworth bus. Into the West, Again - Part 1 “And if you do that again-no! The whisk is not for drumming on Pippin’s head! Give me that!” “But Sam, we were just trying to help-” “OUT! You’ll help burn down the house, that’s what you’ll do! I don’t want to see, hear, or smell you in this kitchen until supper’s ready! NOW!” They sulked out, Pippin muttering, “Leave now and never come back- very nice, precious, very nice.” Sam wasn’t having an easy time. With Frodo “away for his own good” at Happydale asylum, he, being a hobbit, was left with the cooking. Normally, he wouldn’t have minded. But with Merry and Pippin housebound and bored from post Legolas/kazoo injuries, the pleasant job had turned into a trial of Herculean proportions. Having a troupe of sugar-high monkeys on espresso in the kitchen would have been better than those two. He surveyed the mess in the kitchen. “Aragorn! Will you come wipe the egg yolk off the ceiling?” ********************** This particular Saturday afternoon found Aragorn, Legolas, Gandalf and Gimli sitting together in the living room. Well, to be precise, none of them were actually sitting. Aragorn was sprawled across the sofa with a beer, having pushed the mountain of smelly laundry that had formerly occupied the spot onto the already dirty floor. Legolas was perched delicately on the edge of a stool. He was eyeing the magazines on the stool suspiciously. They all had names like “Croquet Today” and “Power Quilting for the Vertically challenged”. That meant they were probably fake covers on magazines of the type Gandalf liked. However, if that was true, Legolas didn’t really want to touch them to find out. Gimli was crouched behind the TV. Even in the cleanest, Frodo-staffed household, that’s a pretty dirty place. Now, between the cobwebs and the dust bunnies nibbling on his toes, he looked like a blind albino gnome that hadn’t gotten any in years. His mood wasn’t helped by the fact that Gandalf, showing unusual vigor, had levitated himself out of his chair, and was currently hovering in the vicinity of Gimli’s head. Dwarves are made for small, enclosed spaces, but even they can get claustrophobic in such circumstances and the fact that Gandalf was blocking all the light didn’t help his search for a loose connection. “Fix it faster! Women’s Beach Volleyball is on! Phwwrrrr!” Gandalf had an unorthodox form of the Olympic spirit. Gimli found himself pinned to the ceiling. “Oh, that will be useful,” Legolas said sarcastically. “He’ll really be able to reach the TV from there.” There was a pause. “OOOWWW! You didn't have to drop me!” **************** For more than a century now, Sam had been privately critical of the eating habits of the world in general, and the fellowship in particular. He would never dream of criticizing Frodo, who of course always made delicious meals. Still, he had been looking forward to this chance to reinstate the good old-fashioned staple: taters. “Anyone want more potato casserole?” There was a chorus of polite “No, thank you”s and “Don’t want your nasty chips”. Aragorn, his courage bolstered (vocab word!) by several beers, decided the time had come to speak out. “Um, Sam, no offence or anything, but I’m barbequing tomorrow night.” “Why would I be offended? I love BBQed potatoes!” “That wasn’t exactly- never mind.” “Woohoo! BBQ! Can I cook the bratwurst, can I, can I?” Merry shouted. “No! Sacred bratwurst is mine!” “Neither of you is getting within 10 feet of a grill! And that’s final!” “You never let us have any fun! It’s so boring here! Even having a job is would be better –“ Legolas interrupted the rant: “I actually agree with the last bit. Frodo’s mental healthcare is very expensive. It’s about time you got back to work.” Gandalf had been listening carefully to this exchange. In his thoroughly corrupted mind a plan began to form. A plan with great potential for mischief, profit, and flying ceramics. ************* Merry and Pippin’s sudden decision to spend all their time except meals in their room should have raised alarm. When asked what they were doing, they said “Nothing”. From long experience with the terrible twosome, the rest of the fellowship knew that meant “Something Unethical and Probably Illegal”, but they were enjoying their relative sanity too much to want to do anything. There had been discussion of whether it was a good idea to leave Merry, Pippin and Gandalf alone in the house during work. This was decided by pretty much the same reasoning: no one wanted to skip their job to be stuck with those three. Plus, isn’t 6, 000 (and in Gandalf’s case, eternity) old enough to do without babysitting? Nearly a week had passed before they realized they had made a horrible mistake. ************** After a long night at work, Gimli was eating a bowl of cornflakes before turning in. He was surprised to hear the doorbell. “Its bloody 5:00 AM! Who’s here at this hour?” he muttered. He was halfway to the door when he heard, “There’s no answer. Break down the door, boys!” There was a loud crack and thump, followed by a half dozen police officers flooding into the hall. In a flash, the fellowship found themselves herded onto the landing, in various states of undress, and all very confused. A policeman exiting Merry and Pippin’s room pulled aside the officer who appeared to be in charge. “It’s all in there, just like we heard.” The boss turned back to the fellowship “Are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took here?” The two hobbits in question quickly tried to hide behind Aragorn. “You are under arrest for illegal possession and attempted trafficking of (insert incomprehensible drug name here)-“ “What!?” “Black market Viagra, old...chap?” Legolas hadn’t been confused by the words, but by the accusation. “Is that true?” Merry and Pippin tried to look innocent, achieving closer to constipated. “There is no evidence the rest of you were involved, though we may need to talk to you later. However, the two short gentlemen need to come with us, unless someone pays a bail of 3,000 pounds.” Once the police left, taking several cartons, and Merry and Pippin, with them, the remaining members of the household convened an emergency meeting in the kitchen. Aragorn raised the first question: “Do we pay the bail?” “I say no. As far as I’m concerned, they can stay there forever. Anyway, a few hours won’t hurt them, and I want some answers.” Legolas’s expression would have had Dick Cheney spilling his guts. “Who sent in the tip?” He turned to look at Sam. “Why are you looking at me! Just because I’m a hobbit doesn’t mean I know what Merry and Pippin do! I stay out of their lives and try to keep them out of mine!” Sam turned to look at Gandalf, who was sitting in his chair, pretending to pay no attention. “He knows more than he lets on, and he’s certainly mean enough to call the police instead of letting us handle it ourselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if the racket was his idea in the first place, just to cause trouble.” Under the suspicious glares, the wizard continued to stare into space, humming “Dragnet”. “That would be despicable! It’s low-down, cowardly, pathetic behavior! I might expect something like that from Saruman –!” Aragorn was upset. “Never compare me to that traitor, human!” So was Gandalf. “I will if you stop acting like him.” "Did you really expect anything different from Gandalf?” Legolas interjected. There was a pause. “No, not really.” “You know, we can’t really let them stay in jail.” For the first time, Gimli spoke up. “WHY NOT?” “I agree the little buggers deserve it, but an investigation? It would blow our cover.” There was a pause as this sunk in. “He’s right,” Legolas said grudgingly. “But what are we supposed to do? A jailbreak? And if we’re on the run, what about Frodo?” Sam wanted to know. “We’ll deal with that later.” Legolas was taking charge. “First we’ll pay the bail and see how much time we’ve got. Then we’ll make plans.” In their centuries of immortality, the fellowship had had to change identities and disappear many times. It was annoying, but it kept life interesting. “Okay, as long as these plans don’t involve me faking dead. Iron underpants don’t float very well.” ************ “We should move to Botswana!” Pippin got no response. Just because his housemates were rescuing him from jail didn’t mean they’d forgiven him, or Merry either. In fact they were being shunned. Gandalf was too, but since, if they could help it, no one talked to him anyway, it wasn’t making much of a difference to the group dynamics. With the criminal members out of jail, the fellowship was eating lunch, and discussing alternative hideouts. Leaving England would be necessary, with three of the hobbits running from the law. Everyone agreed on that, but the proposed destinations were as varied as the men (hobbits, elves, dwarves, wizards....) suggesting them. The argument over the relative merits of Sweden and Finland was about to turn ugly when Legolas went to get the mail. “Bills.....marriage mail....Hey, we got a postcard from the Twins!” He passed the picture of the Empire State building to Aragorn, who stopped his rant about the Finnish language reminding him of Arwen, and read the message out loud. “Dear Fellowship-dudes! Legolas looked over his shoulder. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“It’s a sign!”
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Authors' Notes
“A blind albino penguin who hadn’t gotten any in years” ----Blackadder
Happydale is where they send the brother who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt in “Arsenic and Old Lace”
Vocab Word thanks to Mrs. Pearl
“Sacred Bratwurst” comes from a corny local radio commercial
Somone once told me that finnish is the closest language to elvish
Black market Viagra..... do you really want to know?
Ololay was the one who came up with the plot. IT'S ALL HERS! Even though Inwai kind of wrote it.... But Ololay thought of the postcard! Ha!
This is really long for only being part one, but we had a lot of ideas, and we wanted to finally get something posted. Part two is going to be shorter and hopefully will be done a lot faster.
We would also like to point out again that we aren’t British. Any errors or things that aren’t realistically British are because we don’t know any better (Or we are making a joke. This is fiction!). A typical day found us asking randomly “Do they have Miranda rights in England?” “Can you think of a single English athlete in the Olympics?” and “Do they call supper ‘supper’?” This is the reason why this is the only episode that will be set in England.
Once again, please review! *Shows pleading puppy dog eyes* Don’t you love us?
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