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Author's Chapter Notes:
'I laughed so hard I drowned in my slushy!!'-Codename: The Jewish Midget

Don't flame, please review!!
(We see the fellowship and several others, seated in a large group therapy session. Legolas is busy braiding his hair, Gimli is hefting his axe, Aragorn is seated between Eowyn and Arwen, who are glaring at each other. Worm tongue is staring blankly at Eowyn, every so often using his binoculars to gaze at her longingly. Saruman is glaring at Gandalf who is falling asleep in his chair. Pippin and Merry are playing hkicky-ball, Frodo is clutching the ring around his neck, eyes darting around the room. Sauron and Galadriel are having a shouting match, Golem is hissing and hopping. Sam is seated, busy enjoying a super sized hamburger, while watching Frodo out of the corner of his eyes. Haldir is seated with his legs spread wide, a smug smirk on his face as he tries to catch Arwen’s eye. Lurtz is seated next to him, snarling and spitting. I’m watching the therapist, still dressed in my pjamas, wondering what the hell is going on.)

Galadriel: You can’t have the stupid ring already!! It’s been like eight billion years, find a new life goal!!

Sauron: It’s mine!! Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-

Saruman(rolling his eyes and sighing.): Here we go again.

Sauron(beating the floor with his fists and having a temper tantrum): Mine, mine, mine, mine-

Elrond(Looking uncomfortable with nothing important to say. Blurts out.): One Ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, one ring to bring them all-

Gimli: Not that again! If I have to listen to that twaddle one more time, I’ll put my axe through your skull!

Therapist(Her voice is bored and monotonous): Would anyone like to begin? *Aragorn raises his hand, meekly. Therapist nods to encourage him.*

Aragorn: My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as-

Therapist(surveying her nails in a bored manner.): Let’s skip the introductions, shall we? Cut to the chase, what’s wrong with you?

All: Hi, Aragorn

Aragorn: I have commitment issues.

Therapist: *Painting her nails* And how does that make you feel? (everyone returns to their seats and ches Aragorn.)

Aragorn: Uh…not good?

Therapist: To what do you have trouble committing to?

Arwen: (obnoxiously) Lets see…his girlfriend, moi, by the way. His kingdom-

Aragorn*shouting*: I don’t have a kingdom!! Not mine!! In descript ranger!!

Arwen: You know, I am so sick of all your excuses!! *getting up from her chair and pointing to Eowyn* And whose she?


Tbc.
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Sorry for the shortness of it, more soon.
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