Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

Lights, Camera, Action! Take Three

Author: GW Katrina
Title: Weird Fic: Lights, Camera, Action! Take 3
Beta: None. Suffer.
Disclaimer: Don't own them or the products.
Feedback: Of course, you silly Tooks.
Notes: First off, I'd like to thank Claire for getting me the jingle
for Doublemint gum. I hope she likes what I've done with it. Second,
it's been a very, very long time since I've posted the first two of
this inadvertant series. There are also some refrences to my fic
"The Show", another humorous piece. If you want copies of any of
them, just ask.

Lights, Camera, Action! Take 3

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"

Her assistant was starting to get worried as the director continued
to stare into space.

"Ma'am, they're going to be here soon."

That got him a small whimper.

"Ma'am, please, I don't think I can handle them all. Besides, I
don't want to face Frodo because you lost it."

Another whimper, one that was different from the first. "Frodo?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Frodo's shoot is today, remember?"

"Get me coffee. See if you can't lace it with something."

"All right, Ma'am."

***

"Everyone, listen up. I know some of you were here yesterday. Same
thing applies. If you do what I tell you, nobody will be killed.
Piss me off, and I will maul somebody. Got it?!"

Everybody nodded at the director's growl. Satisfied, she looked at
her assistant. "Not laced?"

"Sorry, Ma'am. We don't have anything."

"Damn. Oh, well. Let's start this circus."

***

Elrond is looking into a beautifully decorated mirror, slowly and
delicately rubbing cream into the skin around his eyes. As he does,
he begins to speak.

"As the ruler of one of the most beautiful of elven lands, it is
expected of me to represent the best of my home and my people. As a
half-human, I tend to develop fine lines that none of my people will
ever have. So, to look my best, I use Oil of Olay to keep my skin
looking it's elvish best."

"Good. Cut!"

Legolas and Aragorn glide up on either side of Elrond. "Lord
Elrond," purred Legolas. "Arargorn and I have something else that
will help you remain as youthful as the rest of our people."

With a small smile, Elrond allowed himself to be led away. Several
crewmembers followed, pulling out notebooks and pens. One woman even
brought out a cam-corder.

***

Gimli stands before sheer stone walls, eyes barely visible above his
mustache.

"Everyone knows that dwarves love company. That is why dwarven
hospitality is known throughout the land. However, dwarves also
love a cold brew, and if you show up without a Icehouse, they throw
out dusty skeletons and pretend to have been killed in a great
battle."

Gimli held up a cold bottle of beer, water beading on it.

"Icehouse-gets you into the house."

"Wonderful. You're free to go. Wait. Give me that beer, first."

As Gimli starts to hand over the bottle, a howl goes up. "My
Precious! Never gives us a beers."

With a shriek, Gimli drops the beer and flees, barely keeping ahead
of Gollum.

Looking wistfully at the beer now fizzing on the floor, the director
sighs.

"NEXT!"

***

A river swirls next to a dark forest, lit only by the light of a
pale moon.

Suddenly, the darkness is broken by a brightly shining elf, riding
on the back of a white horse. The pair draw to a stop, reflecting
off of the river in a blinding display. The light dims a little, and
Glorfindel began to speak.

"As an elf of the First Age, I hold the power to drive back the
darkness. However, not all people are so fortunate. For them,
there's Maglite. Whether you're trying to find your way, or trying
to bash a Nazgul over the head, Maglite has the right light for you."

"Cut!" Eyes looked at the elf from behind sunglasses. "Can people
get a tan off of you?"

Before Glorfindel could answer, a crew woman tackled him, knocking
him to the ground.

"Pretty, shiny elf," she giggled as she dragged the unresisting elf
away.

"Why me? I could have really used that beer."

***

The camera zooms in on a smiling hobbit. Bilbo runs a hand through
his curls, looking just a tiny bit nervous.

"For years, I used to get compliments about how young I looked. Now,
after Gandalf's discovery, everyone thought it was because of the
Ring. Not true. Good blood was most of it. The rest of it was
Clariol. Their line of wonderful hair dyes help me keep my curls the
same rich and natural color they were in my youth."

"Wonderful. We got it."

The director turned towards one of the tech people. "We'll be able
to edit out Gandalf's legs, right?"

The young man nodded. "Sure. Your cameraman might need therapy,
though."

One look at the twitching man, and she agreed. "It's not our fault
that Bilbo refused to come out from Gandalf's robes."

***

Pitch black. Then music starts, familiar but very, very slow.

"Double your sentiment, your merriment"

As the first line is drawn out very slowly, two spotlights come on,
lighting up a pair of dark haired twin elves. They stood still,
posed so everyone could see them clad in leather and silk.

"Double your moments of fun"

Another line is crooned out as the twins let their bound hair loose.
It flowed down their shoulders and back, swirling like the pale silk
they wore.

"Double your delightment, with the right mint"

Nimble fingers helped undo the leather ties of each other's vest, as
both twins swayed to the music.

"For refreshment, it's the only one"

Now the fingers moved to buttons, and Elladan bent back, Elrohir
leaning against him in order to push the shirt off. Then Elladan
returned the favor, leaving spotlights to reflect off of golden skin
and black leather pants pressed to each other.

"Double you pleasure, double your fun"

Next to go were the lacing that ran up slender legs. Surprisingly,
it didn't take long, and both shimmied out of their pants, pausing
to help one another slid out of tight leather.

"That's the statement of the great mint"

Elladan and Elrohir were now down to a pair of speedos and long,
black hair. With naughty grins, they thumbed the waistband on their
tiny little coverings.

"In Doublemint gum."

With the last line of the jingle, the twins yanked off the Speedos,
leaving themselves glad in barely-there thongs, the same shade green
as Doublemint gum packages.

A few seconds passed of dead silence.

The woman who had tackled Glorfindel leapt onto the stage, followed
by the blond elf himself. They each grabbed a twin and ran away.

There was a general uproar, and most of the crew and actors ran
after the fleeing foursome.

"Lu.... LUNCH!" yelped the director, who then threw up her hands and
joined in the chase.

***

Back from the lunchtime chase, the director looked around. About
five people had actually come back. More than she had expected.
Plus, the people for the next commercial were there.

"Forget beer," she growled. "I want mead." A deep breath. "Next
shoot, you guys."

***

On the counter laid copies of the live-action and animated movies
based on Lord of the Rings. Beside them sat the One Ring and a check.

Behind the counter, Gandalf picked up the check. He looked at it,
then down at the Ring.

"Do you have any ID?


A deep voice began to chant.

"Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh
burzum-ishi krimpatul."

"Very catchy," said Gandalf, sounding very bored. "But I'll need
more than that."

Letters of red flame began to appear on the Ring. Once again, the
chanting began.

"I'm sorry. If you don't have any ID, I can't take your check. NEXT!"

The deep voice sounded again.

"Visa Check Card. Gets you in, out, and on with your plans to
destroy Middle-Earth."

"Must you say that?


"Bwahahaha!"

"Forgot. Ring of all consuming evil. Best we'll get. CUT! Set for
next scene. Oh, and people, no kidnapping the star."

***

After throwing back a large glass of mead, the director was back on
the set. A little wobblier, but much calmer.

"All right, people, let's get this one going."

On the stage is a large bed, with, thankfully, only one person on it.

Frodo sat up, completely nude except for a well placed sheet, and
the Ring, which was on a chain that rode low on Frodo's hips.

"Serta. For when you want a good night of...." He trailed off,
lowering his head until he was looking at the camera through his
lashes.

"Well, a good night of just about anything," he purred.

"Cut! Frodo, get dressed. Before I lose you and am hunted by a
bloodthirsty crowd. Mainly your cousins."

A crewmember laughed. "You might get chased anyway if you make him
get dressed."

"Shut up. We need him clothed for the next one."

Feeling her happy mood being disrupted, the director snarled at
them, her face going slightly freaky. Frodo thought she looked
rather like Bilbo in Rivendell, when he had been nudged by the Ring.

"NOW!"

***

Another dark forest. Frodo is darting through the trees, carrying
something close to his body. All around are the cries of the Black
Riders.

Closeup of Frodo's face, who looks frighten. He glances over his
shoulder, and his eyes get larger.

The screams are louder, and there is a closeup of one of the horses
the Nazgul ride, red eyes gleaming.

Frodo stumbles over a hidden root, but catches himself before he can
fall. However, that is all the Riders need to surround him. They
slide off their horses, circling around the hobbit, who continues to
try to back away, clutching something to his chest.

The Witch-King screamed.

The Nazgul fall upon Frodo, all with the same cries. A few seconds
of struggling, and the Witch-King stands.

Across his face is a streak of white, and he holds up a bottle.

"Got Miiiiiillk?"

"Perfect! But did you have to strip the hobbit?"

***

As the actors straggle off the set, the director begins to do a
happy dance. "We're done, we're done! No more commercials!"

"Er, not exactly."

The woman froze, her eyes going to the person who stood beside
her. "Frodo, I hope you are just making conversation so we can have
a shag later."

The hobbit blinks. "Well, actually, with the new movie out, your
boss has let us have you again to film the new commercials. Some new
people, some old."

The director whimpered, then curled up into a ball. "What did I do
wrong? Why does my boss hate me so much?"

"Doesn't hate you. We like you. Want to shag?"

A second or two of silence, the the director popped up to her
feet. "Sure. But don't expect me to like doing more of these things."

"It will be fine. This way."

The End (for real)