DEBBIE DOES THE TWO TOWERS

Chapter Eight:  Stranger And Stranger

 

Looking like an exotic tropical bird, Debbie the Red wandered through the cool green and brown undergrowth of Fangorn Forest. Merry and Pippin followed eagerly at her heels. Their progress through the forest had been sporadic, as they had all frequently felt the need to stop for...refreshment since stepping under the trees.

"Say, Lady Debbie, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Merry began slowly.

Debbie flashed him her enchanting grin. "Sure, what's that?"

"Cousin Frodo told me once that you'd said you hated killing things, even spiders. So how is it that you didn't mind killing all those orcs?"

"Well, I couldn't let them hurt you guys! Besides, I think killing orcs is *good* for your karma."

The two hobbits nodded as if this explanation made perfect sense.

After a few more minutes of walking, Debbie felt compelled to take a rest. "These high heels are nice-looking, but they're not the most practical things for walking through a forest," she sighed, sinking gracefully to the ground under a large tree. Merry sat down beside her.

Pippin looked up into the branches. "I think there's some apples up there, Lady Debbie. Would you like me to get you one?" Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled onto the lower branches and rapidly began climbing.

Merry and Debbie both tilted their heads back to watch Pippin's progress through the leaves. "He can really move!" Debbie remarked. "But then again, so can you...."

"I'm in the mood for a little 'moving' now," said Merry, waggling his eyebrows as he made a playful grab for Debbie.

Pippin's voice floated down. "Don't start anything without me! I'll be down in just a second!"

"And I'll be up by then!" Merry called back as his hands began to move over Debbie's lace-covered waist.

"Ooo, Merry," she giggled. "That tickles!"

Debbie's high-pitched squeal was echoed by another high up in the branches of the tree. Merry and Debbie quickly broke apart and craned their necks in an attempt to see what was happening to Pippin.

"Pippin? Are you all right?" Merry called anxiously.

"Pippin?" added Debbie after a few moments.

The only answer was a noise that sounded oddly like "Hoom."

Suddenly both Merry and Debbie found themselves swept off their feet by huge, bark-covered hands and lifted up to gaze into a pair of equally huge, amber-colored eyes. Pippin was clinging to the trunk of the tree near the gigantic face.

"The tree is talking, Merry!" he called desperately.

Merry's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, making him look very like a goldfish. Debbie, however, relaxed instantly. "That's no tree, that's an Ent!" she answered happily.

"Little...orcs?" said the Ent doubtfully.

Debbie tapped her red shoe playfully against the Ent's bark. "Oh, come on, do I *look* like an orc?" she asked, leaning back so he could get a good look at her.

The Ent looked Debbie over thoroughly. Since Ents never do anything hastily, this required about ten minutes of silence. "Hoom...no," he admitted at last. "I do apologize. It has been so long since I have had visitors that I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Treebeard."

Debbie smiled, and cheerily responded, "I know." She settled back in Treebeard's hand as comfortably as if it were a chaise longue. "Tell me, Treebeard, there's something I've always wondered about...are you a hardwood?"

********

Many miles away, Debbie the Black sat in a sunny patch of fragrant herbs with her back to a ruined arch and her laptop on her lap. Frodo and Gollum sat on either side of her, gazing intently at the crystal window. "It's lucky that I happened to have this 'Home Psychoanalysis' CD-ROM in my bag," she commented as she clicked on an icon. A shapeless black image appeared on the screen. "Okay, Sméagol, Gollum, I want you both to tell me what this looks like."

Gollum peered at the shape. His eyes narrowed. "Preciousssss...." he hissed. "It looks like the Precioussss." Then his eyes grew round and innocent. "No, no," he responded to himself in a happier voice. "Looks like fissssh!"

Sam called from the campfire he was preparing a short distance away: "First it's one thing, an' then it's another. Make up your mind, why don't you?"

"Can I play too?" asked Frodo eagerly. "I think it looks like Gandalf's hat."

Sam walked over and glanced at the screen over Debbie's shoulder. He clicked his tongue impatiently. "Any fool can see that's a balrog."

Gollum shot a glare of pure hatred at Sam. "Not Balrogs, precioussss. Balrogs don't have wingses," he hissed.

Sam folded his arms. "They do so. I should know--I've seen one, and you haven't."

Sméagol nodded his head enthusiastically. "That's right! Wingses!"

Gollum snarled back at himself. "No wingses!"

"Wingses!"

"No!"

Gollum/Sméagol rolled onto the ground, seemingly trying to throttle himself.

"You know, maybe I can do this diagnosis without the computer," Debbie mused.

As the pitiful creature rolled further away, Frodo leaped up with a concerned cry and followed him, trying to prevent him from harming himself. Sam merely watched, shaking his head. "'Opeless," he muttered. "So what do *you* think that blot is, Miss Debbie?"

Debbie considered the computer image with half-closed eyes. "A herd of beautiful wild ponies running free across the plains," she decided.

Sam smiled at her. Since he was standing and Debbie was sitting, his hazel eyes could gaze directly into Debbie's green ones. "That's right pretty, Miss Debbie."

"Thank you, Sam," she said with a blush. The sounds of Gollum's struggle and Frodo's pursuit were growing fainter.

Sam stepped closer. "They'll be gone for a while," he whispered huskily into her ear.

Debbie smiled back at him. "So...do you want to?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Sam cried, and launched himself at Debbie with all the strength of a very frustrated hobbit.


 

 

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