The Tower of Isengard did not receive many visitors these days, except for the orcs who until recently had come to do Saruman's bidding. But for the second time in less than a week, a delegation had arrived to have some words with the wizard. Gandalf was in the lead, mounted on his magnificent white horse. Behind him were King Théoden, Aragorn, Éomer, Legolas, Gimli, Debbie the White, and Debbie the Purple.

"Now, you must watch your step around Saruman," Gandalf was saying. "He's very crafty and very persuasive. It's probably best to let me do the talking."

Both Debbies nodded in unison, in agreement with the wise wizard.

"Just let him get within reach of my sword, and he'll find that I can be persuasive too," growled Éomer.  He was still sulking at having missed the entire battle of Helm's Deep.

Legolas and Gimli appeared not to hear, as they were engrossed in a conversation of their own.

"I tell you, I've had them both more times than you!" the Dwarf was arguing, harrumphing at the Elf.

"But not both at once," Legolas pointed out.  "I have.  And Éowyn too."

"But you were with Aragorn as well, so that cannot possibly count."

"Oh no?  I thought you liked Aragorn," Legolas responded coolly.

"I'd temporarily lost my head there," the Dwarf stammered.  "Fangorn, you know."

"Will you stop mentioning that?" Aragorn snapped.  "I've been doing my best to forget it."

"Hush!" said Gandalf.  "We're getting very near the tower now."

The mounted party passed out of the shade of the trees and the horses began splashing through ever-deepening water.  As the party approached the tower, they could all clearly see that the great Isengard was but a shell of its former self. 

Perhaps more surprising than the destruction, however, was the sight of Merry and Pippin laughing and smoking high atop one of the ruined walls--and between them, another copy of the lovely Lady Debbie, scantily clad in red lingerie.  She waved to the approaching party.  "Hi, guys!" she called out cheerily.

"I knew there was a red one!" Gandalf exclaimed, vindicated.

Legolas and Gimli looked at each other.  "First one to get all three of them...alone?" Legolas asked.

"Done," said the Dwarf confidently.

Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin bounced to their feet, eyes fixed on the Debbies who rode behind the wizard.

"Look, Merry! There's a purple one too," gasped Pippin.

"I see that, Pip. And a white one!"

Gandalf rolled his eyes. "Hobbits."

"Didn't you just mumble something about a red one not more than a few moments ago?" Aragorn asked the wizard as he arched an eyebrow.

"We've come for a word with Saruman," Gandalf announced majestically, ignoring Aragorn. "It's time we dealt with him once and for all."

"Oh, that's too bad," Debbie the Red said as her smile morphed into a delicate little pout. "He's just left.  Gríma too."

"BLAST!" shouted Éomer in frustration.

"Did you rout them and chase them out of their stronghold, Lady Debbie?" Aragorn asked, his mouth a little agape.

Debbie the Red gave her tinkling laugh. "Well, something like that...with a little help from my friends...but mostly I just used the power of persuasion.  Have some food and I'll tell you all about it."

"What kind of food?" Gimli asked eagerly, patting his stomach.

Merry and Pippin looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"Oysters," they said in unison.

"Smoked," Merry added.

"And raw," Pippin chimed in.

"Packed in Fangorn Forest water," they giggled together.

"Fangorn, you say?" Gimli stammered, his gaze traveling equally between the storehouse and Aragorn.

"None for the Dwarf," the Ranger spat.

"Don't worry," said Debbie the White with a wink at Aragorn. "I can handle the Dwarf."

"I'd rather you handled me," the Man answered, but she had already turned to Gimli, and was whispering in his ear.

"Very well," said King Théoden, breaking silence for the first time. "I think we could do with a snack."

They all dismounted and sat on the wall.  Merry and Pippin graciously passed out tins of oysters to everyone and then Debbie the Red began her tale.

*******

"...And so they both decided the band idea was a good one," Debbie the Red finished. "Here's the poster I worked up for them."

She held up a flyer, artistically lettered on a piece of parchment. It read "Fires of Industry: Middle-Earth Tour 3019." Underneath was a rather well-drawn picture of Gríma--now Rigli Studtongue--in tight black pants and no shirt. Beside him was Saruman, now wearing a tie-dyed robe and small, round, dark glasses.

The others looked at the poster, stunned.

Gandalf was the first to recover. "I cannot believe Saruman would give up wizardry for the life of a traveling musician," he huffed.

"Well Rigli Studtongue was pretty persuasive--especially when he mentioned all the adoring female fans they'd accrue along the way," the Red answered with a smile.

"I can't imagine Gríma as this 'Rigli Studtongue,'" Éomer stammered in disbelief. "I mean, he was so..."

"He's not any more," Debbie the White answered, wiping some oyster juice from his chin. "I gave him a makeover."

"What I don't understand," Aragorn began slowly, trying to divide his time between the conversation at hand and keeping an eye on Gimli, "is how Isengard fell into such ruin. Why would Saruman trash his own stronghold?"

Debbie the Red giggled. "Um...he didn't, exactly. That was partly the Ents, and partly an effect of the backstage party we had after the first performance. Anyway," she continued, turning to Gandalf, "Saruman left the tower open and said to tell you you could take anything that looks useful."

"Good," said Gandalf. "I was thinking his palantír might give us some advantage."

"Later," said Théoden lazily. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed while Debbie the Purple dropped oysters into his mouth.

There was a long pause as they all savored their food.

"I must say, these oysters are rather...potent," Legolas commented.

"Indeed," said Éomer, eyeing one of the Debbies.

"Brings back memories," said Gimli, looking at Aragorn.

Aragorn's face developed a hunted expression; he lunged for the nearest Debbie and started kissing her madly. Merry and Pippin, with whoops of joy, set upon a Debbie of their own. From there it was every man, woman, Elf, Hobbit, Wizard, and Dwarf for him- or herself.

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