The Troll is Slain
The Witch-king rested in his armchair, feeling his migraine disappear, while Ringwraith #4 climbed his way down to the eerie dungeons.
These dungeons give me the creeps, he thought,
it's all the orcs, I can't stand them! He arrived in the dungeons and found himself in the great hall of the front axle. The orcs were having a fun time spinning the right axlers who were chained onto the axle, but now they sat, bored and disappointed to have stopped.
"What's the deal?" shouted one orc, the chief orc, whose name was Ôsh-gosh, "Why aren't we moving?"
"There's an orc in the road," said Ringwraith #4, "And he wants us to pay a toll, but we have no cash at the moment."
"You mean we're just gonna stay here!" said Ôsh-gosh. All the other orcs groaned.
"No, no. We've made a plan. Behind us we are followed by those orccs we dropped over the elves, and they in turn are being chased by elf hunters. I'm here to select those of you who will guide the elves to the troll. Once the elves have killed the troll, we'll be back on the road."
Several more cheerful orcs clapped. "Yay!" they said.
"And what about those who will lead the elves to the troll?" said Ôsh-gosh, "What's in it for us? Are you just going to leave us stranded in Mirkwood?"
"Pretty mu- I mean, uh, um," Ringwraith #4 searched his mind for a good reward.
What would the Witch-king say? "You will earn undying power and glory."
"Hooray!" said those more cheerful orcs who had before said yay.
"Good enough for me!" said Ôsh-gosh. He started picking his best orcs for the task. He soon had four others, including his brother Bigôsh.
"I've picked Bigôsh, Hâsh-brâwn, Snûpi, and Grupí. Lead us to the troll!"
Ringwraith #4, keeping his distance from the slimy, filthy orcs, led the five orcs to the hatch through the bottom of Minas Mor-go. He opened it, and with a reminder to lead the elves to the troll, the orcs dropped through one by one. Ringwraith #4 shut the hatch, and made his way back up to the Witch-king on the gates. (though with a short stop at a restroom to wash his hands. Those grimy, germ-ridden orcs!)
He returned to the gates, where he found the Witch-king waiting.
"Sir, I've sent the orcs below into Mirkwood. I've sent five of them!"
"Excellent! Come see them run! Come over to the side here!"
Ringwraith #4 came to the Witch-king's side and peered down into the forest, where he could see the five orcs running to the troll, with the elves in hot pursuit. First Ôsh-gosh was killed as a flashing arrow stabbed into the back of his heart, and next Bigôsh was beheaded by an elf who had came close enough to use his sword. Then Hâsh-brâwn and Snûpi were killed by the same arrow. It went straight through one and right into the other. Grupí was now the only one left. He ran and ran, more scared now than at any point in his life, caught between nasty elves and an ugly troll. And all the while the elves could be heard singing:
"Tra-la-la-lally! We will hunt down all orcs and slaughter them and the paths of Mirkwood will run black with their blood! Ha ha!"
Grupí had now ran into the troll. "Pay toll!" the troll shouted as it smashed Grupí into a pulp with its club. But now the elves were unleashing a volley of flashing arrows onto the troll, and in seconds it was reduced to a bloody pincushion. The elves dragged away the troll's body, still singing.
"Tra-la-la-lally! He will make a good sofa! Ha ha!"
The Witch-king turned to Ringwraith #4. "That was fun to watch! They should turn that into a reality show. I'd watch it all the time on the Ithil stone." He returned to his comfortable armchair. "Well, Ringwraith #4, I say we continue due west. What do you think?"