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 or whatever?
Sam: I haven't heard that one since yesterday morning. No, actually, he's back to singing the blues again.
Frodo: Oy! Sorry, Sam, you'll just have to bear with it.
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?!
Tolkien: WHAT?!?
Sam: Hear me out now... you might not remember much about Gandalf arriving at Elrond's place after he escaped from Saruman, but—
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 such.
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—
Frodo: Yes...and?
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...
Tolkien: [thunk]
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.
Tolkien: [phew!]
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.
Tolkien: [crash]
Sam: You do?
Frodo: Yes. And, henceforth, you are not allowed to talk to me for the rest of the trip.
Sam: Oh.
Tolkien: [THUD]