Title: Revenge of the Gamgee Author: Limber and Deep Throat Rating: R Summary: We’ve all seen/read about Sam doing for Mr. Frodo. Well, now he’s getting a bit of his own back, so to speak. Pairings implied: Sam/Frodo, Merry/Pippin/anyone else, Gandalf/various hobbits Warning: Character death, sort of, but not if you don’t want. Just read it. Disclaimer: We own fuck all. We are in the middle of exams (hence the violent nature of this story), and if we owned any of this, we would richer, happier and thinner. Thank you to Mike Myers for being brilliant, and Tolkien for giving us the characters we shamelessly rip off. Comments: Well, we are really desperate for an excuse to procrastinate, so if you want to send comments, please do. It would be a damn sight more interesting than the crap we’re reading now. limber_deepthroat@yahoo.co.uk Revenge of the Gamgee “Yes Mr. Frodo?” “Sam, could you help me? It’s such a heavy burden I bear.” “Mr. Frodo, it’s a dinner plate. There’s nothing on it, and you cast the ring into Mount Doom 3 years ago, so the burden thing is wearing a little thin.” “But the strain of it all ...” “Mr. Frodo, missing a ring finger on your left hand should not interfere with carrying a dinner plate to the sink with your right. I mean, how can you possibly still be this useless?” “Sam!” “Oh, did I say that out loud?! I’m so sorry Mr. Frodo! Why don’t you go sit down by the fire, and I’ll finish up in here?” “Oh thank you Sam, what would I ever do without you?!” Frodo skipped off into the other room. “Die like the useless fuck that you are, I would imagine.” Sam muttered to himself. It had started off so well, Sam would be with his Mr. Frodo, and with his Rosie. Moving into Bag End had seemed like the perfect arrangement. But after a few years, the heavy burden was more on Sam than on Frodo, as Frodo seemed able to do less and less for himself. “Sam, can you draw my bath?” “Sam, my shoulders ache from looking over books all day. Can you get that book down from the shelf for me?”, even though Sam ached all over from tending the garden all day, cleaning the house, and taking care of Rosie, who was very pregnant on the day that request was made. Rosie had long since refused to do anything for Mr. Frodo. “If you want to do for him, go right ahead, but I have our children to look after, children who never see their father...” And now that the sexual favours were drying up...”Not tonight Sam, I have a headache. Visions of the eye haunt me still.”...Sam was at his wits end. He couldn’t take it anymore. Something was going to have to change, or Sam was going to snap. How could it have gone so wrong? Oh yes, Mr. Frodo was a whining little prick, that was how... Sam was lost in his reverie when he heard a scream that sounded like it could have come from Sam’s little girl. “What the hell does he want now?” Sam muttered as he made his way to the study. Frodo was standing on a chair with his hands on his head jumping around in a manner that would have made Sam laugh, well actually, in a manner that had made Sam laugh the first 50 times he had seen it. Sam didn’t bat an eye. He picked up a discarded book, walked over to the small spider and flattened it, scraped up the dead arachnid with his left hand and threw it in the garbage can on his way back to the kitchen. Rosie would have saved the spider and taken it outside, but Sam just couldn’t be buggered anymore. The next day Sam was digging a hole for a new plant that Gandalf was bringing in from Lothlorien for Mr. Frodo. Fantasies of fertilizing the soil with the bloodied remains of a certain whingeing little prick...he hadn’t noticed how the shape of the hole was becoming strangely coffin shaped... ”What a lovely hole you have there Samwise.” “Well, hello there, Mr. Gandalf sir. How’re you this fine day?” “Very well now Sam, very well. And how are you my old friend?” “Oh, I’m fine sir, but busy. Rosie’s expectin’ again, so I have my hands full with the children, and Mr. Frodo o’course.” “Yes, you are very good to your family Samwise Gamgee. Perhaps you should consider a holiday. I can see by the look in your eyes you are in need of some rest.” “Thanks Mr. Gandalf sir, I’ll think on’t. Can’t deny that a little time away would do me as much good as a good rain after a long drought. If you be lookin’ for Mr. Frodo, he’s most usual in his study this time o’ the day.” “Thank you Samwise, I shall seek him there. Oh, and I almost forgot, here is the plant I promised you.” Gandalf ambled towards the house, admiring Sam’s work in the garden as he went. Sam looked at the size of the plant and the size of the hole he had dug for it...”That hole’s more hobbit sized than plant sized, that’s for sure. Better start filling this hole in a bit before I put the plant in it.” Gandalf found Frodo lounging in the study, sipping a cool lemonade. “Hello there Frodo my boy. How goes it with you?” Frodo awoke from his reverie. “Hello there Gandalf! What a surprise! What brings you to Bag End? Oh and may offer you anything to eat or drink?” “Thank you, a glass of that fine looking lemonade would be lovely on this warm day.” “No problem, just one minute.” Frodo sprang up from his chair, skipped to the window and...”SAM!!!! SAAAAAAAM!!!!!!” A moment later Sam came running...or at least would have come running to a similar summons a couple of years ago. Five minutes later, after the plant from Lothlorien had been properly bedded, Sam strolled in. “You bellowed, Mr. Frodo?” “Yes, ages ago!” Gandalf started to look a little embarrassed, at least as embarrassed as an Istari can. “Gandalf would like some lemonade.” “Let me go fetch it right quick.” Sam trundled off to the kitchen. Gandalf came in a moment later. “I’m sorry Sam. I hadn’t realized that you would be called in to do this simple task I could have so easily done for myself. Is this how it has been since you moved to Bag End?” “Well, if I may speak plain Mr. Gandalf sir, it didn’t start out this way. I suppose I am as much to blame as Mr. Frodo. When I first moved in, I was happy to do every little thing for him. It was such a joy to have my Rosie here with us and for us to be like a big happy family. But recently I have been feeling unappreciated like, and with my brood of youngsters growin’ up and all the work in the garden, I do sometimes wish Mr. Frodo could do a bit more for himself.” ”Well, Sam, that’s understandable. It seems that our Mr. Frodo is taking advantage of your good nature and willingness to serve. I will reiterate my suggestion that you take a vacation, maybe with the family. I’ll talk to Frodo about it.” “Thank you Mr. Gandalf sir. I’d really be appreciatin’ that.” “Maybe a trip to visit Meriadoc and Peregrin would be just what the Istari ordered. And from the talk I’ve heard at Bree, they could relieve some of the...shall we say, tension...that I sense has been building up during the past while.” “Oh you don’t know the half of it Mr. Gandalf sir. Though it doesn’t surprise me, the talk in Bree. You remember what they were like on the quest.” “Oh that I do, young Gamgee, that I do.” Gandalf took his lemonade into the study to broach the idea of Samwise taking a vacation with the ever-whingeing Frodo. The following morning, Gandalf again tried to broach the topic of Sam’s vacation with Frodo. He had been strangely unreceptive to the idea the previous night. “It’s just the way he’s been saying Mr. Frodo lately...It’s a little bit disturbing. Do you think anything could be wrong?” “I think he’s a little overworked, Frodo. Maybe he and the family could take a trip...” “No! I couldn’t do without Sam for a day!” “Calm down Frodo. He wouldn’t be gone long, but mark my words, if our Samwise doesn’t get some time away from Bag End, there will be dire consequences.” “Maybe if he didn’t have to take care of Rosie and the children. You could take them to visit Merry and Pippin in Buckland? I’m sure it would be good for Rosie in her condition, and you have always been so good with hobbit-children.” “Well, I guess that’s an acceptable compromise for now. But if Sam starts exhibiting any unusual behaviour, I want you to send for me at Merry’s immediately.” With that, Gandalf rose to inform Rosie and the children about the trip and to aid in the preparations for the voyage. A few days later, Rosie and her children were packed off with Gandalf to Buckland, and it was just Frodo and Sam at Bag End. One evening, after a particularly taxing day taking care of Mr. Frodo, Sam snuck off to the Green Dragon for an ale. As he sat in the corner of the noisy tavern, a strange smile crept across his features. “You know,” he thought, “if I just stay here and drink myself into oblivion, I won’t have to kill Mr. Frodo. He’d just die. I mean really, he can’t even shit by himself! I mean, first it was carry me up Mount Doom, then it was carry me down. Then it was no don’t take me like this, but like this. Now it’s fuckin’ Sam can you wipe my ass because I can’t get a decent wiping action with a missing finger. He’s right-handed!!!!! And he’s always too fuckin’ tired to give decent head...not that he informs me of this before he cums...it’s just after when he can’t seem to reciprocate! Oh well, at least Rosie’s gettin’ more action as a result.” Sam started to giggle, a little conspicuously in fact, as other patrons of the tavern started to notice the insane sounding hobbit. He leapt onto the table, and shouted at the top of his little hobbit lungs “I am going to jump of a bridge just so that Frodo Baggins starves to death with a dirty ass!!” And then he passed out. Sam woke up face down in the plant Gandalf had brought from Lothlorien. One of the guys at the Green Dragon must have got him home somehow. He staggered into the kitchen, his head pounding, searching for a glass of water. “Oh! By Elbereth! You gave me such a fright Mr. Frodo. I didn’t see you there!” “Where were you last night Sam? I was so worried.” “I am sorry Mr. Frodo sir, but I went down the pub for a bit of a night out like. I didn’t mean to worry you none.” ”Well, next time tell me where you are going. I was thirsty in the night and I called for you but you didn’t come. In the end, I had to get my own water.” “So? “But Sam! How can you be so blasé?” “I’m sorry Mr. Frodo, but I had been running about after you all day, and only snuck off when you were tucked into bed and sleepin’.” “So you admit that you snuck out, do you Samwise?” “No, I...Wait a minute?! Why am I justifying myself to you?! I am your gardener, and although you treat me like a manservant, my only paid duties are tending your freakin’ garden!” Sam staggered towards the sink, filled a glass with water, took a long sip, then hurled the half empty glass at Frodo’s whingeing face. Frodo ducked just in time and started backing out of the room as Sam grabbed a cleaver and started advancing towards him. “Sam...what are you doing with that knife?...Sam...put the knife down.” “I just thought I’d make your hands more symmetrical. At least then you might have a decent excuse for not doing a stitch of work about the house!” Frodo may have been a little dense at times, but he wasn’t that stupid, so he turned tail and ran to his study, locking the door behind him, just in time to see the edge of the knife come through the thick wood of the door as Sam threw it. He then proceeded to lock all the windows and curl up under his desk in a fetal position, crying like a baby. After a time, he got out from under the desk and wrote a hurried message to Gandalf. “Sam tried to kill me. I think he’s cracked! Come quickly!!” Now, I know you are wondering how on earth Frodo, useless as his has become, could possibly post this letter. Especially since he was too scared to leave his study, for fear of getting whacked by his gardener. All we’re saying is, if Deus Ex Machina is good enough for Tolkien, it’s good enough for us. And, with that, the sound of rushing wings filled the air, and Gwaihir, lord of the eagles, arrived at Frodo’s window and carried his letter to Buckland as fast as his rather large wingspan could carry him. The next morning, hoping that Sam had gotten over his homicidal rage, Frodo cautiously opened the door of the study to the smell of bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, fresh fruit, tea and biscuits. “Either Sam was trying to put things right, or all of this food was poisoned.” thought Frodo. But considering Frodo had gone without a single meal the day before, he decided that if he was going to die, he would at least die on a full stomach. “Morning Mr. Frodo!” Sam called. He seemed overly cheerful. “And how’re you this fine day?” “I’m well, I suppose.” replied Frodo tentatively. “You seem back to your old self this morning, Sam.” “Well, I must admit, I don’t remember much of the past day. I must have been really deep in my cups the night before!” Sam chuckled. He really did remember the day before, he just had no intention of apologizing, and he wanted to make Frodo sweat a bit. “I guess you must have been. Oh well, no harm done.” Frodo sat down to his breakfast, still a little uneasy. As he tucked into the delicious fare, the events of the past 24 hours faded away. It was only when he saw Sam methodically chopping mushrooms with the cleaver that spent the last few hours lodged in the study door that Frodo began to shake uncontrollably, like a Pope with palsy. The shaking caused him to drop his fork. Automatically, he called for Sam to fetch it for him. There was a loud bang as the cleaver came down hard on the cutting board. Sam started to twitch, but he got the fork without comment. Frodo decided to strike up a conversation. “Isn’t it nice here, just the two of us?” Frodo tried to sound at ease. “Yes, I suppose so, Mr. Frodo. O’ course I do miss my Rosie and the children.” “But if you had gone with them, you would be missing me right now, wouldn’t you Sam? You couldn’t do without your Mr. Frodo any more than I could do without my Sam.” The twitch started getting worse. “What was that Mr. Frodo?” “I mean you couldn’t live without me could you?” “Oh there are times when I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot.” said Sam, as he brought a frying pan full of mushrooms over and started serving them to Frodo. “I can’t believe you said that Samwise! What would you do without me?” The frying pan started shaking as Sam turned bright red. You could almost see smoke coming out of his cute little hobbit ears. Frodo sensed he had gone too far. Without warning, the frying pan solidly connected with Frodo’s head...repeatedly...until the blood on the pan made Sam’s grip slip. Sam stood there, dumbstruck, staring at the still warm but unrecognizable corpse that was once his best friend and lover. “Oops.” said Sam, “Well, it would be a shame to waste this breakfast. I’ll clean up later.” as Sam dug into Frodo’s breakfast, which was now covered in Frodo. The next day, Gandalf arrived, slightly out of breath. He had obviously raced to Bag End from Buckland. He entered the house to find Sam merrily whistling and cooking an amazing looking rump roast. “Hello there Sam. Is Frodo around?” “Oh hi there Mr. Gandalf. He’s lying around here somewhere. It’s right odd, I haven’t heard a peep from him all day.” “That is odd. I noticed you moved the plant I brought you.” “Oh yes, that bed was clearly intended for something else entirely. SIt down and have a bite to eat.” “Don’t mind if I do, Samwise, don’t mind if I do.” Gandalf looked around, looked at Sam and sat down. As Sam brought him his roast, Gandalf gave him a patented Gandalf wink, and they tucked in to their meal together. Well, that was ending one...we liked it, but if you don’t here are two more...pick your favourite. The Scooby Doo Ending (yes this is blatantly ripped off from Wayne’s World...but it’s a brilliant idea...brilliant like Mike Myers...go Canada) doodly-doo doodly-doo doodly-doo “Morning Mr. Frodo!” Sam called. He seemed overly cheerful. “And how’re you this fine day?” “I’m well, I suppose.” replied Frodo tentatively. “You seem back to your old self this morning, Sam.” “Well, I must admit, I don’t remember much of the past day. I must have been really deep in my cups the night before!” Sam chuckled. He took hold of the cleaver that missed its mark the morning before and walked towards Frodo, a maniacal glint in his eye. Just then, Merry and Pippin burst in breathlessly, with their clothes in varying states of disarray. Behind them rushed Sam, red-faced and notably not wielding a large knife. “What the?!” cried Frodo. All of a sudden, Aragorn leapt into the room, miraculously not bashing his head on the low-slung hobbit ceiling, brandishing a flaming torch and a sword (yeah, baby! grrr!). In a moment he had the Samwise impostor trussed up like a pig ready for slaughter. “We got here as fast as we could!” exclaimed Merry. “These brave hobbits flew to Gondor first to fetch me.” said Aragorn, son of Hottie. “We got your letter, but were quite confused, as Sam has been with us for the past few days, if you know what I mean.” said Pippin, subtle, as always. “So we raced back here as quick as that eagle chap could carry us. Oh Mr. Frodo! I’m so glad we got here in time!!” “The last thing to do is find out who’s behind all this.” said Aragorn, as he ripped the mask of the imhobbitater. Everyone gasped as it was revealed that Gandalf was the one trying to end Frodo’s life. “What?!” he exclaimed. “Can anyone honestly say that they want to spend eternity with that?!” he pointed at Frodo. “Once we get over to the Undying Lands, he won’t die!! He’ll be whingeing at me FOR-EV-ER!! Gandalf, why didn’t you meet us in Bree? Gandalf, look at my hand! Gandalf, it was such a heavy burden! What the fuck did he think the rest of us were doing? Having a fucking picnic on the plains of Pelennor?! For the love of the Valar! I mean, we coulda been having our nails done in Helm’s Deep, but oh wait! There were 10 000 cock sucking Uruk-hai, trying to kill us! How could I have forgotten that?! And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling hobbits!! Fool of a Took!!” And finally, the mega-happy ending (try to keep your second breakfasts down) doodly-doo doodly-doo doodly-doo “Morning Mr. Frodo!” Sam called. He seemed overly cheerful. “And how’re you this fine day?” “I’m well, I suppose.” replied Frodo tentatively. “You seem back to your old self this morning, Sam.” “Well, I must admit, I don’t remember much of the past day. I must have been really deep in my cups the night before!” Sam chuckled. He really did remember the day before, he just had no intention of apologizing, and he wanted to make Frodo sweat a bit. “I guess you must have been. Oh well, no harm done.” Frodo sat down to his breakfast, still a little uneasy. As he tucked into the delicious fare, the events of the past 24 hours faded away. It was only when he saw Sam methodically chopping mushrooms with the cleaver that spent the last few hours lodged in the study door that Frodo began to shake uncontrollably, like a pope with palsy. The shaking caused him to drop his fork. Automatically, he called for Sam to fetch it for him. There was a loud bang as the cleave came down hard on the cutting board. Sam started to twitch, but he got the fork without comment. Frodo decided to strike up a conversation. “Isn’t it nice here, just the two of us?” Frodo tried to sound at ease. “Yes, I suppose so, Mr. Frodo. O’ course I do miss my Rosie and the children.” “But if you had gone with them, you would be missing me right now, wouldn’t you Sam? You couldn’t do without your Mr. Frodo any more than I could do without my Sam.” The twitch started getting worse. “What was that Mr. Frodo?” “I mean you couldn’t live without me could you?” “Oh there are times when I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot.” said Sam, as he brought a frying pan full of mushrooms over and started serving them to Frodo. “I can’t believe you said that Samwise! What would you do without me?” The frying pan started shaking as Sam turned bright red. You could almost see smoke coming out of his cute little hobbit ears. Frodo sensed he had gone too far. Just then, Gandalf burst into the room. Sam was so shocked that he dropped the frying pan. “Now Sam, think before you act.” said Gandalf, giving him a knowing look. Sam started sobbing like a little girl...not unlike the sobs coming from Frodo earlier in the story. “I’m so sorry Mr. Frodo! I don’t know what I was thinking on! I love you so much!” “I love you too Sam, and I’ve realized that soulful blue eyes, perfect skin and pouty lips can get you far in Middle Earth, almost to the top, but it can’t get you everything. I’m sorry too.” Frodo and Sam fell into each others’ arms, sobbing some more. Gandalf took one look at them and realized that his work there was done...which of course means, time for a hobbit orgy. He left, giddy with anticipation. Sam and Frodo stayed holding each other for a long time. When they grew hungry (ok, so maybe long time was an exaggeration), Frodo helped Sam cook breakfast, and they sat down in front of the fire, like the old friends that they’d always been and always would be...sniff...it’s so beautiful...”Now if we could just get Rosie interested in a threesome...” Frodo said with a twinkle in his eye... “Oh Mr. Frodo, how I’ve missed that look.”... The End