In the smithy sat Melkor, his feet propped up on one of the anvils, in one hand a bottle of miruvoore, and in the other a palantir remote control. He seemed to be watching "All My Eruhini."
"Yo, Aule! Whasssap?" quoth Melkor.
"Urghm," grunted Aule in reply.
"Right, so ummmm, anyways, I came by here to speak to you about a former 'friend' of mine. A rather strange little chap. Goes by the name of Arta.."
At that moment, Melkor's words were cut off by a bloodcurdling screech. Into the forge ran a somewhat dirty looking Maia child chased by another who seemed to be foaming at the mouth.
"Curunir!!!!!" roared Aule, "Stop chasin' yer brother! Adn Aiwe....Aiw.....and you, whatever the feck your anme is, git back in yer cage!"
"Charming children you have," commented Melkor.
"Who the 'ell are you?"
"I am Melkor, my dear, inebriated brother-in-law; and I am here to collect a Maia of yours who goes by the name Artano."
"Oh, 'im. He's probably upstairs playing with the tree bitch's makeup again."
And so he was. Artano looked absolutely dazzling in the rouge blush and coral lipstick he had applied, not to mention Yavanna's orange go-go boots. Melkor was so stunned by Artano's rather drastic change in looks that it took him quite a few moments before he was able to speak. But as soon as he recovered from the shock, it took him no time at all to convince the Maia to join his cause. All he had to do was promise to rescue him from his hellish foster parents, and provide him with an unlimited supply of beauty products.
Now we enter a new chapter in our dear Dark Lord's life. After joining Melkor, Sauron (as he is now called) soon learned to delight in evil and darkness, though a small part of him still longed for his makeup case that he had left behind. Melkor put him in charge of Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves, as he worried that Sauron was of a too delicate disposition to handle the stress of governing Angband. On this fair isle, Sauron spent many happy days torturing Elves and Men, singing fell songs, and playing frisbee with his pet wolf, Draugluin.
Alas, this idyllic period in his life was soon to be cut short by the arrival of Luthien the Fair, otherwise known as the original Warrior Princess. Unbeknownst to Sauron, one of the prisoners in his dungeons was a man by the name of Beren; this Beren also happened to be Luthien's lovey-dove, and she was quite eager to get him back. With this in mind, she and "the Amazing Talking Dog!" Huan assailed Sauron's pleasure palace, and slew every last one of his puppies; up and including Dragluin. Sauron was grief-stricken by this wanton slaughter, so he himself went to defeat Luthien, or die in the attempt (or at the very least, run away nobly). He therefore took the form of the greatest wolf that ever lived, and descended down to where the she-elf waited.
Unfortunately, combat had never been Sauron's strongpoint, and well, ummm.. to put it bluntly, he got his ass kicked. Badly.
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