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Narrator: Somewhere in darkest Middle Earth...
Gangoon: My name is Neddy Gangoon! I am trying to lead
my fellowship of weary questors into Mordor...
Smeagles: Hello?...
Gangoon: Shut-up Smeagles!
Smeagles: Shut-up Smeagles!
Frobottle: Enter Frobottle! (waits for applause - not
a sausage...) I am
Frobottle, bearer of The Ring, carrier of Sting...
Gangoon: Frobottle How are you? Here have a lambas!
Frobottle: No thanks, I'm trying to give them up.
Gangoon: (waves staff) Forward everyone - this way!
Frobottle: Ugh! Now look what you done! You tored my
ear off - I only had it for the day!
Sauriarty: (aside) <evil snigger> Little do they know...
<evil snigger>
Gangoon: (aside) Little does he know, how little I know,
and if I knew the
little he knew, I'd know a little!
Balrog: <growwwwwwwwllllll!>
All: Argh!
FX: running feet, clanging of pots and pans, the sound
of a soggy lembas
hitting someone on the head.
Narrator: The sounds you have just heard we those of
our intrepid questors
trying to avoid a hurled soggy lambas... for the chicken
noises, we can only apologise...
Gangoon: What, what, what, what, what, what???
Sauriarty: <evil sneer> What Gangoon? Only six watts?
You're a bit *dim*,
aren't you?
Gangoon: It's the dreaded Soggy Lambas Hurler! Run you
fools!
FX: Gangoon slipping off a ledge...
Frobottle: He fallen in da water!