The group runs through the great dwarven city, fleeing from thousands of orcs, who are rapidly 
gaining on the party. Boromir and Aragorn grab a hobbit under each arm, running like hell, as 
Galdalf and Legolas pull a maddened, cursing Gimli after them by his beard. 

GIMLI: Let me go! I can kill them all with one stroke of my axe!!!

ARAGORN: Yeah, with your breath maybe.

PIPPIN: (muffled, under his arm) Now how come when I make a joke, I get yelled at? Why doesn't 
anyone call you 'Fool of an exhiled heir to the throne?'

Aragorn squeezes the hobbit harder, the poor little guy gagging in Aragorn's armpit. (I 
assure you, with all that fighting and sweat, this was definitely not the day for the ranger 
to forget his deoderant.) In the meanwhile, the group, with a passed out Pippin, find 
themselves completely surrounded by the jibbering orcs.

SAM: What're they saying?

GANDALF: I dunno, but their either really pissed off, or. . .

There are a few moments of silence as all stare at the wizard, who seems to be staring at 
the ceiling.

LEGOLAS: Well?!

GANDALF: . . . they're really, REALLY pissed off.

BOROMIR: Thanks for clarifying that. Would have never realized it without you.

While in reality:

ORCS: (singing) We represent the lullabye league, the lullabye league, the lullabye league. . . 

Suddenly, there is a distant rumble in the caverns, and all of the orcs stop their merriment, 
to gaze in horror at an ominous light heading their way. Before the Fellowship can say 
Luthien Tinuviel, the squealing masses have retreated back into their subterranean pubs 
to play strip poker and grab ass.

BOROMIR: Okay, something tells me this is going to suck.

The group tries to focus on the glowing bright light, which is slowly heading their way. 
All nervously look at Gandalf, who seems to be tap dancing and not paying the least bit 
of attention. Gimli proceeds to smack himwith the flat of his axe.

GANDALF: Criminy! What is the matter with you??? (all point to the quickly proceeding 
light) Oh.

MERRY: Not to be the voice of reason, but are we in trouble?

SAM: Meaning, should we be running or not?

PIPPIN: Yeah. . . like is that light good, as in the dwarves were just hiding, and now 
their coming with super happy fun lanterns of ultra brightness to throw us a party, or 
bad, as in a force of dire evil is heading this way to crush our bones and squeeze the 
jelly from our innards?

At this thought, Boromir screams like a girl.

FRODO: I don't like jelly.

Gandalf stares for a moment then whirls on the party, eyes maddened, and foaming at the 
mouth.

BOROMIR: AAAAH! An Orc gave him rabies! (he ducks behind Aragorn)

GANDALF: No, you fool! Great evil is coming! This foe is beyond any of you. . . RUN! Lead 
them on, Aragorn! The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!

ARAGORN: (mumbling) Do this Aragorn. . . Do that. . . Save the Hobbits Aragorn. . . Lead 
everyone to safety. Without a 'Please' or 'Thank You'. Honestly.

PIPPIN: You know, it's very unbecoming for a man who wants to be king to whine.

The Hobbit finds his head squished in smelly doom for the second time in as many minutes. 
Suddenly, the group comes to a gap in the apparently endless staircase, which LEGOLAS jumps 
across easily.

LEOGLAS: Wheee!

GIMLI: Bloody showoff.

GANDALF takes a flying leap, does a backflip in the air, and lands on his feet. The Hobbits 
hold scoring cards, while the Men oooh and ahhhh.

GIMLI: Ridiculous!

BOROMIR: Merry, Pippin! Hoo hahh!

Boromir grabs Merry and Pippin, tosses them like a quarterback making a star pass across the 
chasm, and backflips to the other side.

GIMLI: Now really. C'mon guys!

Girlish tittering can be heard, coming very fast from behind them. The dwarf, man, and two 
remaining hobbits scramble into an acrobatic Chinese pyramid with Gimli at the apex. The 
stairs crumble forward into the piece the others are on, knocking the groups into one 
another, causing them all to roll down the staircase, stooge style. 

GANDALF: (freaking out, looking behind them) Over the bridge! Fly!

MERRY: But. . . we don't have wings.

All glare at him.

PIPPIN: That was something so stupid, that I should've said it!!!

There is an explosion of flame behind them, and all gasp in terror. A giant, flaming 
creature is coming for them, the heart of it too bright to see. It squeals in delight. 
Legolas freezes.

LEGOLAS: That sound. . .

The Elf screams in terror, and almost wets his tights. A second later, he is gone, having 
run like Hell to the bridge. It takes only a moment for the rest of the group to lose 
their cool and follow him like maddened babboons. All cross the bridge, hiding behind rocks 
and such to watch Gandalf face off to the horrid creature, sword and staff in hand.

GANDALF: You cannot pass.

The light dies down, revealing a forlorn looking fangirl, holding a homemade Legolas doll.

FRODO: Oh my God! He was right about the voodoo!!!

LEGOLAS: What what what??!

Scuffling a foot on the ground, the girl grins manically up at the elf, and back at Gandalf.

RI: Pretty please?

GANDALF: I am a servant of the pretty boy protection angency, wielder of the mace of 
incredible eye burning! Cuteness shall not avail you, Fangirl of Legolas!

Ri pouts, and swings her doll angrily at the wizard, but he hacks the doll in two with a 
swing of his sword.

LEGOLAS: AAAAAAAAAAH!

BOROMIR: Oooh. . . is he dying?

FRODO: (poking Legolas) I don't think so. . . 

SAM: I dunno what's wrong with him.

LEGOLAS: She. . . (sniffles) she's a psycho, but that doll was really, really cool.

ARAGORN: For the love of Sauron, you need to stop playing with Barbies!

LEGOLAS: (crying fully) You promised you wouldn't tell anyone if I let you be Skipper!!!!

All stare at the two in shock/ morbid fascination. Meanwhile, Ri watches the remains of 
her doll plummet into the darkness, tears welling in her eyes.

GANDALF: Go back to the theater! You... SHALL NOT... PASS!

Gandalf slams his staff on the bridge, and a flash of white light drives the fangirl back. 
She glares menacingly at him.

RI: You wanna play that way, eh?

She whistles and it seems that thousands of dark shapes amass on the bridge, all are 
reaching for Gandalf with clawlike hands

FRODO: (in horror) What are those things?

ARAGORN: Slashers. The ones that like odd pairings.

LEGOLAS: Eeeep! (quickly hides behind Boromir)

All recoil from the sight in horror. Shadows claw at the hems of Gandalf's robes, as the 
bridge gives way, dropping the Ri and the slashers into the chasm. It seems they have won, 
but as he turns away, Ri chucks a piece of wood that she's carved into the shape of Legolas 
at Gandalf's head as she falls, and he slips. He gets a brief grasp on the edge of the bridge.

BOROMIR: Don't anyone go down there! Those slashers are tricky! And I don't want any more 
pairings with Haldir! Hell, I haven't even met the guy yet!

FRODO: Gandalf! Are they gone?

GANDALF: What are you waiting for, you fools? Come grab me, I'm slippi. . . .

And Gandalf follows his enemy into the abyss, as we hear the laughter of the fangirl echoing 
in the darkness.

FRODO: Nooooooooooo!

LEGOLAS: (wiping his brow) Phew. . . that was a close one. (all glare at his callousness) What?

tbc