Narrator: Drums roll
as all the doors of the Dark Lord's Restaurante Morannoni are thrown
open. Rapidly, the dread waitrons of the Black Café stream forth to
surround the upstart Army of the West. Out of the gathering black clouds
overhead, the eight remaining Nazgul Who Say "Ni" arrive on their foul
winged beasts to join in the anticipated coming slaughter.
Aragorn: (looking around desperately) Where in blazes
has Gandalf gone off to?!
Eomer: He just left with some eagle friends of his
that dropped by. He was cursing, very inventively I might add, about
something or other taking to long.
Narrator: It was at that moment Sauron's doom struck
Sauron: I can't believe I didn't see this com—Ulk!
Narrator: The ground shook and buckled as if an overwhelming
wave roared and crashed throughout all of Mordor. The mighty feasting
rooms of Restaurante Morannoni tottered and caved in. Even the renowned
al fresco dining area crumbled apart as the Black Café collapsed
in total ruin. Beyond, in the far distance, vast spires of fire leaped
from Mount Doom while the mighty fortress of Barad-dur was torn asunder.
Maitre D: Quelle horreur! Ze Café is gone! C'est impossible...
mes amis, save what you can!
Aragorn: Now is our chance, we shall attack at once!
Imrahil: Yes, my liegelord!
Aragorn: Stand by for attack!
Maitre D: Ohhh, ce qui dommage... Oh la destruction!
Nous sommes ruinés!
Aragorn: Today the blood of many a valiant knight of
Gondor and Rohan shall be avenged. In the name of the sacred Valar...
Maitre D: Ici, Gaston. Ze cleaning woman! Cherchez
la femme... tuit suite!
Aragorn: ...we shall not stop our fight until every
servant of Sauron lies dead and the black lands of Mordor are cleansed
of his foul taint!
Maitre D: (crying pitifully) Ze moules marinieres...
pate de foie gras... tart de pomme... crêpe Madame Boyens... tous ruinés..
est perdu, tout est perdu...
Aragorn: Ready then—CHARGE!
Army of the West: Huzzah!
C.J.R.'s Wife Baillie: Yes, they're the ones. I'm sure.
Inspector: Come on. Anybody armed must go, too.
Officer Duggan: All right. Come on. Back.
C.J.R.'s Wife Baillie: Get that one!
Inspector: Right, keep your hands on the car please—What
have we here, eh?!
Officer Carr: Back. Right away. Just... pull it off.
Come on. Come along.
Inspector: Put the elf in the van.
Officer Smith: Clear off. Come on.
Legolas: With whom?!
Inspector: Which one?
Officer DeVille: Oh—this one.
Inspector: Come on. Put him in the van too.
Officer Keli: Shouldn't I strip search him first?
Officer Gardner: Yes! Yes, let's strip him and search
Officer Dannenberg: Come on. Back. Right back. Come
Officer O'Toole: Run along! Run along!
Officer Givings: Pull that off. My, that's an offensive
weapon, that is.
Officer Carey: Come on. Back with 'em. Back. Right.
Officer Burleson: All right, shorty. That's enough.
Just pack that axe in.
(meanwhile, flying past high above)
Frodo: So, the quest is finally at an end and there
is one bloody hell of a mess to clean up. What else could possibly happen
to us now?
Gandalf: I'll tell you what... listen to this.
Gandalf: Whenever you wish for the end, dear friend,
And things seem hard or tough,
When friends and foes alike are stupid or daft,
And you feel that you've had quite enough...
Just remember that you escaped on an eagle, unlike Smeagol,
Who just roasted in a burning lake of fire,
But since this movie is quite long, we leave off with this song,
And just skip the whole "scouring of the Shire."
Riding here with me and your old pal Sam Gamgee,
We can still recap the story as I sing,
In an effort to define you as the one we all admire,
For destroying the power of the Ring.
Our fellowship itself, comprised a dwarf and an elf,
Who playfully fought in battles side by side.
Four hobbits we had indeed, a bit over-fond of pipeweed,
Two of which caused such mischief I could scarce abide.
With Boromir and his horn, and the true King Aragorn,
We wouldn't have had a full set without including me,
And together we've been on a crazed record breaking ride,
In this amazingly lucrative trilogy.
The gaze of the Eye kept on searching and searching,
In all of the directions his ring could be.
Hence we put on quite a show, since we parted ways, you know,
A grand theatric ruse, while you were the peril it failed to see.
So remember, though you can only count to nine on your hands,
How amazingly valuable is your worth.
Just pray there are good endorsement deals in the undying lands,
'Cause there's bugger over here in Middle Earth!
Sam: So... can I have Bag End, then?
Frodo: Yeah, alright.