Narrator: Frodo Baggins
and Samwise Gamgee continue their arduous journey, their encounter with
Faramir long behind them. Tempers and wits start to fray as the water
and food supply becomes critically low. With each step, the creature
Gollum, once known long ago as Smeagol, leads them closer to Mordor...
and into a deadly trap.
Sam: I hate to complain, Mr. Frodo, but Gollum's singing
to himself is pushing me past my breaking point.
Frodo: What's that Sam? I hardly even notice now. Is
he still singing about bling-bling
Sam: I haven't heard that one since yesterday morning.
No, actually, he's back to singing the blues
Frodo: Oy! Sorry, Sam, you'll just have to bear with
Narrator: Hiding under a dense cover of trees and brush,
Frodo, Sam, and Gollum cower as a foul winged horror flies overhead
bearing a dread ring-wraith. The screeching of the flying beast and
the Nazgul's cries of "Ni!" eventually fade in the distance.
Gollum: Come on, master. The nasssty flying one is
gone—Gollum-gollum! We must move fast, yesss, we must!
Frodo: These encounters with winged riders slow our
progress and bode ill for our mission.
Sam: Well, those beasties the black riders are flying
now have had me thinking, Mr. Frodo.
Frodo: Oh? What about, Sam?
Sam: I think Gandalf could have saved us all this trouble
by destroying the ring in scene 8 of "Fellowship."
Frodo: You what?
Audience Members: What?!
Sam: Hear me out now... you might not remember much
about Gandalf arriving at Elrond's place after he escaped from Saruman,
Frodo: (wincing in pain at the memory) Indeed, I was
delirious from being wounded at Weathertop.
Sam: Right, well, he arrived on this huge eagle (a
northern one, mind you!) by the name of Gwaihir the Winglord or some
Frodo: Yes, yes, we have heard plenty enough about
eagles during our journey. What has that got to—
Sam: I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it! Anyway,
as I reckon it, the ring-wraiths were still using black horses at the
time. They don't seem to have acquired these flying beasties until recently—
Sam: ...and that means Gandalf could have had this
eagle friend of his fly you and him straight to Mordor, chucked the
ring into the fires of Mount Doom, and been out of there before Sauron
knew what had even happened.
Frodo: No way!
Audience Members: WHAT?!?!!!
Tolkien: [SLAPS FOREHEAD] Arghhh!
Sam: Look at the facts, Mr. Frodo. With the ring-wraiths
on horses, Sauron still relatively weak, and Mordor sadly lacking in
anti-eagle defenses, it would have been a piece of cake for Gandalf.
Frodo: But... but...
Sam: A piece of cake, I'm telling you!
Frodo: But... what if, say, the eagles couldn't fly
all the way to Mordor, Sam? Northern ones don't migrate, you know.
Sam: I thought of that, but I overheard Gwaihir promise
Gandalf that he and his fellows would be at the upcoming battle with
Sauron. Seeing as how that looks to be happening down here around Gondor
or Mordor anyway, he must have known he would be coming here eventually.
Frodo: Right... so why didn't he just go ahead and
get it over with. I see your point, Sam.
Sam: You do?
Frodo: Yes. And, henceforth, you are not allowed to
talk to me for the rest of the trip.