Gandizzle: He's a bad mutha.. Shut yo' mouth!
He come struttin' into a room like he own da place. You can almost hear the theme song from "Shaft" playin' in the background. Dressed fly in a purple crushed velvet pimp suit with flared pantlegs, he comes struttin' in to the beat playin' in his head. Ain't nobody can pull off a crushed velvet cape with zebra stripe trim like he can, yo. Your eye travels from his matching purple velvet wide brimmed hat, down his fly suit, all the way to his glass platform heels. Are those goldfish in dem heels? Sho' you right. He takes off his large round diamond encrusted sunglasses, puts his left foot forward, and leans back on the right foot and his walking stick with a huge diamond at the top. Awww yeeaaahh. He run da show, B.
He's Gandizzle, the baddest pimp in town.
Part 1: Tha Gandizzle Arrives
Pullin' up to Hobbiton in his fly white convertible Continental, Gandalf gets stopped by Frodo, standing on the bank just above eye level.
"What da fuck man, you late!," says Frodo, crossin' his arms in mock disgust.
"The G ain't never late ni'a" replies Gandalf, looking up at him from under the brim of his purple velvet hat, "and he ain't never early neither. Gandizzle come when he damn well want to, fo' sho'". They try to keep a straight face and stare each other down. But just when it looks like someone 'bout to bust a cap in someone's ass, they both start laughin', and Gandalf pumps the hydrolics on the car to get that bitch bouncin'. Frodo jumps off the bank and into the passenger seat. As they speed away, you can barely make out the license plate through the dust: SHDWFX1.
For shizzle ma nizzle.
Part 2: Tha Gandizzle Goes to B-Dawg's Crib
After chillin' with Frodo for a little while, Gandalf drops him off downtown so he can scope some honeys. Gandalf makes his way up to Bilbo's house.
As Gandalf gets out of the Conti, he notices a sign on Bilbo's gate: it reads "Unless you here 'bout the party, best be on your fuckin' way fo' sho'!" He of course ignores this, being the Gandizzle, shiiittttt, and makes his way to the door.
*knock knock knock*
(From inside): "Who dere?! We don't need whatever the fuck you sellin' look at the sign on the gate ni'a, can't you read?!"
Gandalf, taken aback by this, replies: "Man, you better check yo'self, you yellin' at tha double G Gandizzle son, don't make me kill yo' little ass before you get to be 111!!"
Recognizing the voice, Bilbo comes to the door. "Awwww shit, my bad, my bad! Whazzup G-dog, I ain't seen you in years brotha!!" Gandalf smiles, and after an extensive and intricate handshake, replies "Shit B, I thought I was gonna have to put some magic smack down on yo' ass for that lip! You lucky we homies from way back Bilbizzle, yo' ass woulda been gacked!"
Bilbo looks a bit sheepish. "Well come on into the hizz-ouse yo'. I got some Crys-tal chillin'"...
Part 3: Chillin' and Tokin' With Bilbizzle and Tha Gat Gandizzle, Son
The sun was just setting over Hobbiton, while Gandalf and Bilbo sat overlooking the birthday party field.
"I gots to give props where they due, yo: you da man, B dog!" Gandalf said while inhaling smoke. After a slight pause of holding it in, he continued. "It always good to come back to da hood, kick it with the homies, and chill with a fat spliff. An' you always got the good shit too." Gandalf exhaled.
Bilbo nodded, also trying to hold in the smoke. "Ol' Tobey man, dats tha shit. You best be gettin' down and seein' Da Gaffa with the quickness if you gon' be stayin' long, tho'. Shiitt. Best be gettin' yo' own damn weed, fo' sho'." With this, Bilbo blew a smoke ring into the night air, and they watched it as it got larger and trailed off into the distance. Gandalf, since he was the Double G Gandizzle (sho' you right) and could not be played ni'a, made a smoke figure of his own. As he blew, the smoke he exhaled took the form of a large dollar sign, and just as it reached Bilbo's piddly-ass ring, the words "Bling Bling!" appeared next to it.
Bilbo chuckled. "Always gotta be showin' me up, ain't you G?"
Gandalf flashed a gold tooth and said "I cain't let no little hobbity-ass muthafucka be betta than the Gat Gandizzle son, even if it is yo' birthday!"
Again, Bilbo Laughed. "Word.. word.. we gots to get down to the partizzle and get our drink on and our snack on, yo'.. and I'm sure the honeys be lookin' fly tonight! Tonight.. They ain't nevah gon' fuhget the shit that's about to throw down right here, G!"
Gandalf put on his fly purple velvet hat and stood. "Then let's get up out this biz-natch!" he said, and they walked down to the party field...
Part 4: The Birthday Party
The party was hoppin', yo. Everybody had they asses on the dance flo', shakin' dat ass and gettin' jiggy. Bilbo was sitting in a corner of the room, surrounded by a group of young homies, tellin' them about his early days in da hood. "We were surrounded. They we're livin' tha thug life fo' sho' yo, and theys was talkin' 'bout takin' us out!" The youngins were shocked by this, with a chorus of quiet "daaaaammmmnn"s and "ohhhh snaap!" amongst themselves. Bilbo continued. "An' I was just about to reach fo' ma nine and gank they punk asses, when they flat out turned to rock! I was like 'what da fuck was that yo?!', you know what I'm sayin'? I was straight buggin' yo!" Bilbo laughed, and took a swig from his forty.
Gandizzle was off in the corner, runnin' a game of Three Card Monte on top of a keg with a group of young thug hobbits, so he didn't see Merry and Pippin creep up on the sweet-ass Continental. While Merry kept an eye out for da man, Pip climbed into the passenger seat and opened the velvet and jewel-encrusted glove box. Inside was Gandalf's private weed stash, yo, just like they thought. Pippin grabbed a bag and held it up for Merry's approval. "Nah man! We gots to jack da big one potna! Da big one!", Merry said, dismissing Pip's first attempt. Pippin reached in again, and pulled out a bag as big as his hand. Merry smiled broadly and just said "Boo-yah!! Dat's what I'm talkin' 'bout yo!" with a hand to his mouth, and they both snuck off into a nearby tent.
Gandizzle was makin' all da benjamins G, not to mention some PHAT gold chains. He stood up to stretch his back, hands at the small of his back, and thought "Damn these muthafuckas are short!" as he looked around the party. Then tent near his Conti had small plumes of smoke coming from it's post holes. Suspicious, he grabbed his winnings and headed to the Conti. As he got closer, he smelled the unmistakable smell of his private stash. As he opened the tent flap, a cloud of weed smoke billowed out, and he couldn't see around the tent. As he entered, he heard giggles and the crinkles of plastic bags coming from the far left corner. As he got closer, he saw Merry and Pippin sitting on the floor, smokin' his fuckin' stash bitch!, surrounded by apple cores and empty Doritos bags. They all up in his shit, and they ate the last of his Cool Ranch! He was pissed, B.
Bilbo climbed up on the makeshift stage for his birthday speech. From his new height, he could make out Merry and Pippin washin' the Conti down like Gandalf's bitches, with the Gandizzle watching them closely and just lookin' for an excuse to pimp slap them if they so much as look at him wrong yo. Daaaaaammmnn. Bilbo lifted what was left of his forty, and poured out the rest of the bottle's contents for tha homies. He then cleared his throat, and delivered his speech:
"Mah peeps! Badasses and Homies! Pimps and Playahs! Dawgs, Boos, Ma Regulahs, Ballers, Beyatches, and Proudfoots." "ProudFEET, cuz!" came a voice from the back. Everyone laughed, and Bilbo continued. "I'm the O.G., no diggity, and today I'm 111 years old, straight up. 111 years ain't enough time to be kickin' it with ni'as that's all 'bout it 'bout it! I ain't know half y'all as good as I want, and the rest of y'all can kiss my ol' hobbit ass! I gots shit to do yo, and I best be bouncin'. I done stayed around here fo' too long, and I best be up out. Peace. I'm outie!"
And with that, Bilbo disappeared...
Part 5: Bilbo Leaves, Frodo Gets Da Bling
Bilbo opened the door to Bag End with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. He could still hear those stupid fucks making a hella big noise down in the party field, thinkin' he just flew away or some shit like some crazy-ass angel. Shiiittt.
He walked into the living room to grab his things. An angry voice came from near the corner. "I bet you think you hot shit now, B" said Gandalf, his goldfish platforms clicking against the floor as he crossed to the fireplace. Bilbo chuckled to himself. "Aw shit Gandizzle, I's just playin' wit them yo! That shit was da bomb!" Gandalf was not amused. "When you gone, that shit better be leff here Bilbizzle, you 'bout played out wit it." Bilbo turned around angrily, fists up ready to fight, and said "You want this bitch for yourself! If we gots to throw down then bring it!!" Aw that just pissed off the Gandizzle. You ain't never want to do that son.. The room went dark, and Gandizzle seemed to grow where he stood. Even his goldfish were scared out of their fuckin' minds. "BILBO BAGGINS, YOU LITTLE MOTHAFUCKA!! I AINT NO PLAYER, AND I AIN'T TRYIN' TO JACK YO SHIT!!" The light in the room seemed to slowly fade back in, and Gandalf relaxed some. "I'm tryin' to help you out B." Bilbo broke down, and he and Gandizzle exchanged a heartfelt, yet still very intricate handshake, then bumped shoulders. "My bad, my bad, I was straight trippin'" Bilbo apologized. Gandalf reassured him that it was all good. Bilbo left the ring behind, and he set off for Rivendell.
"Bilbo?! Bilbo!"
Frodo opened the door to Bag End with the quickness, and stepped inside. "Ow! Fuck!" he said, has he felt a sharp pain climb up his left leg. He lifted his foot to see he had stepped on Bilbo's ring. "Well what the fuck is that doing there?" he thought, as he picked it up and headed into the house. He saw Gandalf sitting by the fire, talking to himself.
Gandalf turned as he realized Frodo was in the room. "Heh. You gots da bling" he said, as he eyed Frodo's hand. Frodo subconsciously closed his hand over the ring, and looked sternly at Gandalf. "Where the fuck did Bilbo go, G?" Gandalf smiled slightly and said "He split. Were'nt you listenin'? He said he got shit to do. He left you da bling, and all his other shit too, for shizzle." Gandalf held an envelope up to Frodo, for him to put the ring into. "You mailin' it off somewhere? I thought it was mine G?" Frodo asked. "Nah man, you gots to hide that shit away yo. Don't wanna be messin' wit shit you don't know 'bout," Gandalf replied, and Frodo placed the ring in the envelope. "Now go hide that bitch somewhere where ain't nobody cain't find it."
"Where the fuck you think you goin'?!" Frodo said, as Gandalf headed for the door. Gandalf turned around and said, "I gots to be up out yo, I got shit to do. I'll be back tho'." As the Gandizzle grabbed his walkin' stick by the large diamond at the top (talk 'bout bling bling yo!), he place his other hand on Frodo's shoulder, leaned into his face, and said "Don't say shit. Don't fuck wit it". And with that, he was gone.
Extra Scene: Raise Da Roof at The Green Drizzagon, Yo.
It was a rowdy night at the Green Drizzagon, yo. Folks was buck wildin', and Merry and Pippin were no exception. Drunk and feelin' like they could bust a rhyme, they got up on the table. Merry started doin' a mad beatbox yo, and fuck me dead if he wasn't the shiz-nittle-bam-shiznit! Pippin got into the beat, bobbin his head, and started a round of "Hey! Ho! Hey! Ho!" with the crowd. Then he bust these mad funky rhymes yo:
"Hey! Ho! To the bizzotle I go!
When I'm straight up trippin' or lost ma ho
Shit go down, ain't fly no mo'
But I still goooooootttttttttsa get up out yo!
Kickin' it old school, bring da pain
Wit ma boy MB put y'all to shame!
Mo' betta n' a sweet-ass rhyme n' hook
Is a 40 all up in this Took!"
At the end of the rhyme, Merry and Pippin stood with their backs together on the table, arms crossed in front of their chests. They da bomb. Fo' shizzle.
Part 6: Da Return of Da Gat
Frodo entered the house, stumblin'. "I prolly shouldn'ta had that last 40. Daammn", he said to himself, as he almost lost his balance turning around to close the do'. He had a strange feeling as he entered the darkened living room, as if he was being watched. Just as he was reachin' fo' his gat, a large hand clapped him on the shoulder and wheeled him around.
"Did you say suh-in? Did you fuck wit it?"
The Gat Gandizzle looked like shit, yo. His eyes all bloodshot an' shit, look like he hadn't re-done his corn rows in some time, cuz they was hair stickin' out all over the place. He also looked like he hadn't slept in days as Frodo saw him in the light of the fireplace. He approached Gandalf with the envelope containing Bilbo's ring in his left hand, since Gandalf had asked him to see it. Gandalf snatched the envelope from Frodo's hand and tossed it into the fire. "Man I'm gonna FUCK YOU UP!!" Frodo said enraged, as he watched the envelope curl into black whisps. Gandalf didn't even look back as he replied, "Chill yo, cain't shit happen to this mothafucka." Gandalf reached into the fire with a pair of long tongs, and retrieved the ring from the ashes. "Hold out yo' hand bitch" Gandalf said, as Frodo backed up a step. "Don't be such a chickenshit, it's not even hot homes." Frodo held out his hand and Gandalf dropped the ring into his hand, then stepped away with his back to Frodo. "You see somethin'?" Gandalf asked, while Frodo studied the ring "Nah." Gandalf breathed a slight sigh of relief. Suddenly, words came to light on the ring like it had been set on fire, the glow reflecting in Frodo's face. " Hold up, there chinese or some shit on this bitch, I can't read it" Frodo said, turning the ring and trying to make sense of the new engraving. Gandalf was solemn. "It's Black Speech you ass, ain't no chinese people in Middle Earth! It say: 'One Bling to run da show, one bling to look they shit up, one bling to get those bitches down here, and in the dark fuck them bitches up.'"
Frodo breathed heavy and said "Well Fuck."
Gandalf placed his hand on his shoulder and said "You ain't know the half of it F-dawg. Let's get our drink on, and I'll tell you what's goin' down"...
Part 7: Saurizzle, Frodo gets sent off, and Sam gets caught creepin'.
Frodo and Gandalf sat across from each other at the kitchen table silently, the ring between them.
"Well fuck me dead. So this is the muthafucka huh?" Frodo said, half dazed as he picked at a curl in his caucas-fro with his left hand, elbow on the table. Gandalf looked up from his hands, a worried look across his face. "Ya damn right. This is Saurizzat's ring, fo sho'. An' he pissed that it's gone, yo. All his boys out lookin' fo' it now."
A wave of comprehension passed across Frodo's face. "He found it in that fuckin' crack den where Gollum lives din't he? Damn, that was a long ass time ago, G!"
Gandalf agreed. "Hells yeah F-dawg. He done nothin' but try to find this bitch for 60 years, and all that time Bilbizzle had that shit hid away, fo' shizzle! But we gotsta keep it away from him yo. If he gets it back...
He. Will. Fuck. Y'all. Up."
Frodo stood up, and headed for the main hall. "A'ight then, we hide the shit again! Ain't nobody know where it is anyway, and ain't no one gon' find out if we keep it on da down low! Right G? G?"
Gandalf was standing in the doorway to the main hall. "Nah man. That little crackhead Gollum knew Bilbizat had da bling. He ratted you out, yo. They know a Baggins has Da Man's bling." Frodo suddenly got nervous, and tried to give the ring to Gandalf. "Then you take this bitch Gandizzle! Nobody know you got it if you just put it on, you got so many already!" Gandalf chuckled to himself, and said "Well I am the shiznit.. heh.. but I can't take it, yo." Frodo was insistent "You HAVE TO G!" Gandalf's eyes widened, as it looked like Frodo was just gonna throw it at him. "I can't take your shit yo!! It would make me straight trip. You don't want that yo, I would go ballistic on yo' ass, and not know it!"
Frodo folded his hand around the ring, resigned to the fact that he had to keep it. "The fucker can't stay in the Shizzire yo. Where da fuck I'm gonna go??"
Gandalf and Frodo started packing a bag. They had to make sure they had everything... clothes, food, an extra fro pick, plenty of weed... "You get yo' little hobbity ass to Bree, I'll meet you at the Inn. Don't tell nobody yo' name either, you'll get yo' ass gacked befo' I even get there! Sauron's boys'll be out lookin' fo' yo' ass, so stay off tha road."
Suddenly, a noise outside the window caught Gandalf's attention. In one motion, he reached below the window, whipped out his nine, and held it on a very surprised and shittin' himself Sam Gamgee. "You nosy little mothafucka! Whahchoo think you doin' creepin' around tha window kid?? What tha fuck you hear?? Speak Bitch!" Sam's eyes widened as the gat got closer. "I wa'n't doin' nothin'! I heard somebody yellin' and I just thought someone was afta mah dawg and I was 'bout to throw down! But don't hurt me yo'! You da man! You da man!" Gandalf, amused at his little punk ass givin' the Gandizzle lip, smiled and let him up. He put his gold plated gat away. "Yo' snoopin' ass is goin' with Frodo. You best keep up wit him, or yo' shit is gacked."
Part 8: Sam's a pussy, Frodo's pissed, and Merry and Pip can't watch where the fuck they goin'
Sam stopped at the line that separated the field they were crossing and the field they were about to enter. Frodo, realizing he was now walking alone, turned to look at Sam, as he stood staring at his feet.
"As soon as I move, I'm someplace I ain't never been," Sam said quite seriously. Frodo, quiet and serious at first, trying to comprehend just what the problem was, finally said "Are you fuckin' shittin' me with this?? Quit being such a fuckin' pussy Sam. We gots a hell of a long way to go." Frodo began walking again and Sam, now feeling like quite the ass, followed him into the corn field ahead of them.
Sam was feeling sorry for himself and again watching his feet, so his slow ass didn't see Frodo had gotten quite a lead on him. When he looked up, Frodo was nowhere to be seen. "Frodo? Frodo?! Where the fuck you at?!" Frodo appeared from around the corner, wondering what had gotten Sam all worked up again. "I'm right here Sam. You're not going to be such a fuckin' baby for this whole trip, are you?" Sam, now full-on embarassed, dismissed the idea with a wave. "Nah, nah. It ain't that, yo. I promised tha Gandizzle that I got yo' back. He said 'Don't you lose him Samwise Gamgee', and I ain't gonna." Frodo was quiet for a second, then laughed. "We still in the Shire, Sam. Ain't nothin' ever happens in the Shire. If you gon' be a little bitch for this whole trip then I'm gon--"
Before he could finish, he and Sam were knocked over as Merry and Pippin came running at them through the corn. From under Pippin, Frodo's now exceedingly aggravated voice bellowed "Can't you fuckin' potheads watch where the fuck you goin'?" as he pushed Pippin off of him. Pippin stood up and straightened his scarf. "Mah bad man, mah bad. Look Merry, it's Frodo!" Merry looked over from on top of Sam, who was trying to get up as well. Merry smiled broadly and said "What up F-dawg!" just as Sam pushed him away and stood. Sam realized what it is they were doing in the middle of a cornfield, and for some reason it pissed him off. Maybe he was already on edge about the whole pussy thing. "Y'all been jackin' Farmer Maggot's shit, ain't you?? If you fuckers wouldn't toke up so much, you wouldn't always be havin' the munchies!! Maybe y'all could get somethin' done for once! And what the fuck you doin' in a corn field anyway? Farmer Maggot ain't growin' no fuckin' Doritos out here yo--"
Merry, ignoring everything Sam just said and cutting him off before he could say anymore, handed him the bag he was holding, grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, and took off deeper into the field. Farmer Maggot was comin', and he was pissed too.
Damn G, ev'body's pissed off today, ain't they?
They ran through the field as fast as they could, all the way to the edge of the field, where the land dropped off in a steep slope to the road below. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin stopped at the edge barely in time to save themselves from a nasty fall, but then OHP! STUPID SAM! Sam ran right into them as he watched behind him for Farmer Maggot, and the four of them tumbled down the hill to the road below.
Trust a fuckin' Gamgee...
Part 9: The Nazz be Rollin' Up In Here
"Ah fuck." Merry sighed, pushing Frodo off him. Sam was clearly upset. "Fuckin' potheads, you cain't never trust the fuckers" he said as he stood. Merry was not impressed. "Us?! We all stopped at the edge bitch! You ran into us and knocked us off the edge yo!" he said, dusting himself off. "Well who the fuck told you to run towards a cliff?! Who the fuck runs toward a dead end? They ain't no snacks here yo! You shoulda ran into the woods or somethin'." Merry stood right in front of Sam, bumping chests with him as he spoke. "You steppin' to me foo'? Cuz I'll take. Yo'. Ass. Out." Pippin stood up, placed a hand on each of their chests to separate them, and looked at the two of them. "When you bitches are done, I'll be over there gettin' some fine-ass mushrooms," he said, as he walked off with Merry's bag. Merry and Sam looked at each other, then at Pippin, and followed him toward the mushrooms. Gettin' yo' snack on is more important than a beef any day, kid.
Frodo was lost in his own little world, staring down the lane at the leaves. He felt somethin' comin', yo, and it wa'n't no ride Rivendell, that's fo' sho'. "I think we best get off the road" he said, almost to himself. The feeling grew, and Frodo started to panic. "GET THE FUCK OFF THE ROAD!!" he yelled, and the four hobbits jumped into a hollow beneath a tree.
As they sat there, trying to be quiet, they heard the low rumble of a motor behind them. A sleek black Mustang rolled up on the tree the hobbits were sitting under. In the driver's seat, a Nazgul sat low in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel, one hand on the windowframe of the door. In the window hand, the Nazgul held a black nine, ready to gank some hobbit ass. He took a big sniff out the open window, tryin' to smell the little bitches. After all, months in the same clothes? Theys got to be stank, G. The car idled just above them, as the hobbits sat terrified. Bugs was crawlin' out and shit. That Nazgul was a baaaaaaddd mothafucka.
The Nazgul drove on slowly, with no sign of Da Bling and the little fucker who carried it. He'll find it. Yes.
Part 10: Do not Fuck wit Da Gat. Unles yo' name be Sarumizzle, fo' shizzle mah nizzle.
Gandizzle drove around the corner a little too fast, the Conti fishtailing slightly as he corrected for it. He was speeding along, trying to get to Orthanc as fast as he could. He needed to get back to Frodizzle with tha quickness, yo.
Gandalf approached Orthanc in its shadow, driving down the path in the woods. As he got closer, he began to make out the form of the friend he came to see. Saruman walked down the front steps of Orthanc, sportin' a fly-ass floor length white leather duster. His wide brimmed hat, edged in white feathers. With every step, a flash of red appeared below the duster, as his white thick-soled boots were decorated with red flames around toe. He took each step like he was on display, leaning back slightly, leading with the gold plated tip of his long white staff. He da man. Shiiiittt.
"Tha mountain be smokin', the time be flyin', and tha Gat Gandizzle come give me a shout out," Saruman said to no one in particular as he approaches the bottom step. He reaches the path as Gandalf closes the door on the Conti, clicking the button on the alarm, which made the Buh BWAHP! sound. Don't want nobody jackin' Tha Shdwfx, yo. "Thas why you here, ain't it G Diddy?" Saruman says, reaching out to grab Gandalf's hand by the thumb. "Sa-ru-mizzle!" Gandalf replies, and they happily bumped shoulders.
Gandizzle and S-Dawg took a walk along a path in the trees, as Gandalf explained the situation with The Ring. Saruman was surprised. "You sure?" "Fo' shizzle, ma nizzle," Gandalf replied. Saruman put his hand to his chin. "So da bling been found" he said, almost to himself. Gandalf chuckled. "Tha whole time that little hobbity-ass mothafucka be havin' that bitch!" Saruman shot a glance at Gandalf over his shoulder. He was not impressed. "And you didn't know it? That fuckin' weed be makin' you trip!" A slight wave of embarassment crossed Tha Gandizzle's face, barely visible below the brim of his fly purple hat. "We still got time to squash it B, as long as we get on it with da quickness!" Saruman stopped and turned to Gandalf, the gold handle of his walking stick flashing in the sunshine. "Time? What time you think we got, kid?"
Inside Orthanc, Sarumizzle broke out some Crystal. Gandalf took off his hat, absent mindedly running a hand over his corn rows, smoothing them down. Saruman took off his hat as well, the waves in his hair lookin' fly. I gots to remember to get Lakeesha to do that to my hair next time dawg, Gandalf thought to himself, and took a seat on the edge of Saruman's desk. Saruman began to speak. "Tha Saurizzat is gettin' all up in it, he almost da shit. In his crib in Mordor he chillin' like a villain, gots his eye on everythang, you know what I'm sayin'? He gots all da bad ass pimps and ho's from da hood gettin' they ass to him, fo' sho'." Gandalf leaned in to Saruman, lowering his voice in amazement. "How you know?" he said, in an anxious whisper. Saruman leaned back with a smirk and said "I seen dat shit."
Gandizzle was pissed. "That shit is dangerous, you cain't use it, son! You ain't know who gots the other stones!" He covered the Palantir with the black cloth, as the Eye of Sauron flashed briefly in his mind. He glanced at Saruman, realization dawning in his mind. Saruman strutted to his gold plated seat. Nah, man. That shit be a throne, G. He be mackin'. He took a seat and looked back at Gandalf. "Time be flyin' like a mothafucka G. Tha Nazz left Minas Mordor already. They crossed the river couple months back."
Gandalf's eyes widened. "Fuck me dead. They at the Shire." Saruman smiled. "They will find his shit, and kill tha bitch that gots it." Gandalf headed for the door, and it closed. He turned toward another door, and it also closed. Saruman laughed to himself. "Ain't nobody gon' beat Sauron, son. We gots ta come correct yo. We gots to help him out."
Gandalf turned to face him. "Tell me. Bitch. When did Tha Mackin' Sarumizzle lose his everlovin' mind?" Ah, shit. Saruman stood, pissed off like nobody's business. "Oh, you don't want a piece a' this mothafucka right here" Saruman said, thumping his chest dramatically. Gandalf stepped all up in his face. He snapped his fingers in front of Saruman's face, and emphasizing each word with a quick sideways motion of his head and neck, said, "Bring. It. Bitch. It's ON."
They. Threw. Down. They was hair gel and weed packets flyin' everywhere. Saruman's gold ring got ripped off his finger. Gandizzle broke one of his shoes, poor Lamar flopped around on the floor pathetically. You can mess with tha Gandizzle, he can hold his own. But you don't Fuck with Shaqueeda and Lamar. Gandalf rugby tackled Saruman, knocking him on his ass yo. But Saruman pulled some magic shit on him, had his bitch-ass spinning on the floor like some crazy ass... uh... spinning thing. With a flick of his wrist, Saruman had that bitch spinning toward the roof of Orthanc, and all went dark.
Part 11: Kickin' It at Tha Prancin' Pony
The rain poured down on them like lots of water falling from the sky. They were soaked to the bone, and with Merry limping from a humongous titanium splinter he obtained from the other side of the bridge (now safely in his pocket for later framing), they were making slow progress. They reached the outer gate of the town of Bree, mired in a huge puddle and curiously outlined by golf balls. If Merry weren't still being a whiny little bitch about his splinter, he might have one of those. Frodo reached up, knocking on the dilapidated wood of the door.
A peep hole opened, far above their heads, and they heard the muffled swears of the gatekeeper as he closed it again. He opened a lower peephole, hobbit-level, and spoke to them in a gruff voice. "What the fuck you want?" Frodo squinted as he looked into the peephole, trying to see who was speaking. "What the fuck you think we want?! We want in, homes!" The gate keeper closed the peephole with a clack, unlocking and opening the door proper. He looked down on the little Hobbits as they huddled together to keep warm. "Well fuck me dead, if it ain't some hobbits! Four o' y'all too, and from yo' accents I'd say you straight out the Shizzire! What the fuck you little G's doin' out in this shit??" Frodo was in no mood for this shit. He was tired, wet, and had just listened to Merry bitch about his fuckin' splinter all the way across the river to Bree. He was also still pissed off that those fuckers after the ring made them run all over the woods in the middle of the night. Why cain't shit ever be easy?! "We goin' to the Prancin' Pony.. and what we gots to do there ain't yo' fuckin' bid'ness, kid." The gatekeeper, a little taken aback by this sudden hostility, stepped out of the way to to let the Hobbits through. "Daaaaaaaammmmn yo!" he said in a high pitched voice, "Just lookin' out for mah hood, B, din't mean ta front! Go 'head through! Shiiiiittttttt.."
The Hobbits stepped through the gate hastily, trying to wind their way through mud puddles and the humans that occupied Bree. In the center of town they found it, it's carved wooden sign swaying in the breeze and dripping from the rain. They step inside, taking down their hoods and shaking the rain off as best they could. As they approach the front desk, an extremely large (well, by Hobbit standards anyway) man leans over the counter with a broad smile, his boisterous voice filling the air. "Wasssuuppp?! How you livin', mah niggaz?! How can I help a brutha out?!" All four Hobbits looked up at the man, his large smiling face looming over them warmly. Frodo was the one to speak. "We chillin, chillin. You know how we do." The other three Hobbits joined in with a quiet chorus of "word.. word.. shiiiit... das right..", and Merry threw the Barman a West Side gang sign. The Barman nodded approvingly, holding up a gang sign and thumping it against his chest twice, rapidly. He looked back to Frodo as he spoke again. "We afta Tha Gat Gandizzle, yo, where he be at?" The Barman looked down at Frodo slightly confused, thinking out loud. "Gandizzle... Gandi.. OHHHH! YEEAAH! Dat boy is the SHIZNIT son!!" The Barman spoke with his hands excitedly, one hand coming to his mouth to try to control his giddiness as he continued. "He got tha fly trench and that mad pimp cane wit tha goldfish in the shoes B! He be da Pimp MASTAH! And he got dat fly hat, yo?!" The Barman slid his fingers around the wide brim of an invisible hat, big smile on his face. "I bet that fly nigga gets all dem FOYNE bitches, B! They all want to GIT. WIT. HIM!! OHHHHH SNAP!" Frodo nodded, amused by the Barman's enthusiasm but needing to get on with it. "Yeah, he da man, yo, word. But where he at, son? We gots to find him." The Barman's smile faded, as he thought for a second.. "Oh.. well, he ain't here.. uh.." "Underhill.. My name's Underhill" Frodo said quickly. "Well he ain't here, Underhill, he ain't been here for 6 months, kid. But ya'll welcome to wait fo' his ass if y'all want to. We got rooms your size." Frodo nodded, then headed toward a table in the main dining area.
As they sat eating their dinner of cheese and bread, Merry hobbled over to the table with a BIG ASS tankard. Pippin, absolutely mesmerized by it, turned to him as Merry carefully set the tankard down on the table. "What the fuck is that shit?!" Pippin asked, eyes wide. Merry, staring at the tankard, licked his lips and spoke. "This, mah niggah, is a pint." Scrambling to get up from the table, Pippin said excitedly "Oh I gots to get me onna dose yo!!" and rushed to the bar. Sam, once again annoyed at Pippin for no apparent reason, called out after him. "Sit yo' ass down, bitch! You already drunk off yo' ass as it is!! You don't need no mo.." but Pip already had his tankard and was chatting happily with the people at the bar.
"Fuckin' lush," Sam said with disgust, ripping another hunk of bread off the loaf. Merry flipped him off discretely as he tilted the tankard and took a long drink.
Part 12: Merry is Da Shiz Nittle Bam Shiznit, an' Dat Strider be Jockin', yo.
Sam sat at the table twirling his tankard in small circles on the wood as he watched the man in the corner, cloaked and sitting in shadows. Sam leaned into Frodo's shoulder, speaking in confidential tones.
"Yo peep dis dawg..." Frodo leaned backward, looking in the same direction as Sam as he listened. Sam continued. "See dat muthafucka in the corner over dere?" Frodo nodded, eyeing the man in the corner as he took a long drag off his fat spliff, the cherry lighting brightly in the shadows. "Dat bitch been jockin' yo' shit ever since we came up in dis joint." The Barman walked by just then, and Frodo grabbed his apron. The large man leaned over the table, inquiring with a look as to what Frodo might need. "Excuse me mah brutha, but who dat?," Frodo said as he motioned discretely toward the man in the corner, looking only at the Barman. The Barman snorted, shrugging. "Ain't nobody know who dat, yo. He be one of dem G's dat be out creepin' in da hood, one of dem rangers. All the bruthas 'round da way call 'im Strider, cuz nigga be struttin' like he own da place." Frodo nodded, sneaking a glance at the man in the corner as the Barman continued to another table.
Sam and Merry started eyein' some fly-ass sistas standin' over in another corner, talkin' 'bout who they wanted to hit it wit, as Frodo felt him self doze as if in a waking dream. Unaware of his actions, Frodo slowly turned the ring over between his fingers under the table, blinking slowly as his surroundings became a haze. He barely heard Merry get up to go work it to dem fly ass honeys, Sam giving him some last minute encouragement in the form of "Yeeah you da man! Dat shit is tight! You gots mad game, B!".. The voices around him became an echo of what they were, overtaken by a hissing whisper from some far off place... Bagginnnnnssss..... Baggginnnnsss.... muthafuckin' Baggggginnnssss...
"Baggins! Hells yeah! He been mah homie since back in tha day, yo!" Frodo snapped out of his trance-like state, the sights and sounds around him becoming crisp once more at the sound of his name. He clutched the ring tightly in his right fist, turning quickly toward the bar. Pippin stood at the bar with his BIG ASS tankard, happily chatting up the cluster of men that had gathered around him. One had apparently asked him if he knew a Baggins. "Know 'im? Nigga owes me ten bucks!" Frodo hastily rose from his seat at the table, knocking into Sam and earning an annoyed glance (Sam had been cheering Merry on from afar, giving him the Arsenio Hall Dawg Pound Fist Pump as Merry sidled in between three sweet honeys, all flirting with him at once).
Frodo reached Pippin, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him back sharply. "Nigga. please." Pippin said, more than a little annoyed at Frodo's interruption, emphasizing each word with a tilt of his head, first one way then the other. Frodo stepped back with the thought to play it cool and say "mah bad," but he stepped on someone's foot behind him and stumbled, falling to the floor. As he hit, the ring flew up outta his hand like some crazy-ass ring toss game... and being a ring toss game, there's only one way to catch it: extend one finger and loop dat shit.
As the ring landed on Frodo's finger, the room took on an other-worldy appearance, sound tearing through it like a strong wind. He didn't hear the patrons at the bar gasp as they watched him disappear. He didn't hear Merry, chillin' in the corner with one ho on each arm and one on his lap, go dead silent. Nor did he hear Pippin say "fuck me dead" through a sharp inhaling gasp. All he heard was the sound of wind, and a whirling raging wind at that. He turned over on his stomach, looking up at a source of light above him. Superimposed over where the Innkeeper's desk stood was a great eye, wreathed in flames and angry lookin'. He got to his feet, staring awestruck at it, when holy shit, dat shit started talkin' to him B! The words came from it in an angry hiss. "You gots mah shit, G.." Frodo stumbled backward and fell on his ass (again) against the post of a table, tugging desperately at the ring and getting it off. The world returned to normal as Frodo sat there under the table, catching his breath.
Suddenly a hand grabbed at him, hauling him out and onto his feet. The man from the corner spoke in a scolding tone. "You think you tha shit, Underhill. You need to check yo'self." Strider pushed Frodo roughly up the stairs, bringing him to one of the rooms and shutting the door. Frodo stood at the fireplace, a mixture of scared and severely pissed off.
"You got beef, yo?!" Frodo exclaimed, staring intently at the man. Strider pulled his hood down, looking Frodo up and down where he stood. He obviously didn't take no shit. "Yeah I got beef. You gots to chill da fuck out, little G. Dat ain't no regulah ice you got dere."
Frodo was defiant. "I ain't got shit."
"What tha fuck eva!" the man said as he laughed lightly, showing how manly and tough he was by putting out the candles by the window with his bare fingers. "I can be up out wit da quickness, but I cain't just disappear like some ghost an' shit, yo. Dat take some special skillz, kid." Frodo narrowed his eyes, turning toward the man more directly. His tone softened, the "pissed off" giving way as the "fear" part started to take over. "Who the fuck you think you are?" Strider pushed the curtains aside, checking the streets below before turning to Frodo, brow furrowed. "You scaid bitch?" Frodo felt his anger flare up once more, offended that this stranger could read him so well. He wanted to say "Hell no," or "Fuck you, mothafucka!," or something equally witty and offensive, to show this punk that Frodo Baggins was nobody's bitch.
"Maybe."
Strider smirked, stepping toward Frodo. "You bes' be mo' sho' than maybe, homie. I know what's comin' aftuh yo' ass."
Just then the door flew open. Strider wheeled around and drew his sword, facing Sam, Merry, and Pippin standing in the doorway and lookin' all hard an' shit. Merry had hisself a lamp or some shit, and Pippin had hisself a chair. Sam stood in front of them both, holding up his fists and flashin' his guns yo, yelling angrily at the man. "I will BUSS. YOU. UP!" Strider re-sheathed his sword, facing Sam and the hobbits. "You got balls, yo. But you bes' be chillin' da fuck out like my little G here." He turned to Frodo. "We cain't kick it here an' wait for Tha Gat Gandizzle no more, homie. The Nazz be on yo' ass. Fo' sho'."
Part 13: The Nazz roll all up into Bree, Gandizzle waits fo' his ride, and the Hobbits get they asses goin'.
Sam stirred uneasily in his sleep. For some reason, he kept having dreams of getting tackled repeatedly on some football field in a place called Notre Dame. The throngs of people that were watching in the stands were chanting something.. what, he couldn't quite make out. He was pretty sure they were chanting for him, which was a sight better than the dream he had last night.. Yes, having a crowd of people chanting something that was probably your name was far better than being chased through a bunch of caves by a family of Italian mobsters, if you catch my meaning. He awoke with a start when a high-pitched scream filled the air, coming from the inn rooms across the roadway. Slowly he came back to himself, remembering his journey so far, remembering he was in Bree, as he sat up quickly. Pippin and Merry, sleeping beside him in the man-sized bed, also sat up breathless. Sam looked at Frodo where he sat on the edge of the bed, then beyond him to Strider. Pippin rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at Merry. "What the fuck was that??" Merry shrugged his shoulders, and the two of them looked over at Strider.
Strider didn't turn, but continued to stare out the window. He looked down at the idling 'Stang rumbling in the road below, one of the Nazgul still chillin' in the drivers seat. "Thas tha Nazz, yo. Thas what been followin' yo' ass. Lucky fo' y'all they ain't that smart... who'da thought them bad ass killaz would fall for the ol' pillows-in-the-bed trick. Damn." Strider cracked a smile, the first the hobbits had seen. It faded quickly as Strider continued. "They come from Mordor.. they work fo' Da Big Man, Saurizzle."
Frodo's eyes went wide at the mention of Saurizzle, which you wouldn't think was possible since his eyes were already so freakishly huge. "Sauron.." he whispered.. Strider looked at Frodo.
"Yeah Sauron. And he'll have his boys jockin' yo' shit until he get what he want, fo' sho'."
There was a silence in the room as the realisation set in that they were being chased. Everyone was lost in the thought of the danger they faced.. except one. The look on Pippin's face grew more and more confused, and Merry knew what was coming before he even said it. "But... why didn't they just come across the street?" Merry looked at Pippin. "Maaaaannn, shut the fuck UP, yo."
Gandalf sat at the top of the tower, his fly-ass hat sitting on the ground next to him, his Pimp Masta cane laying across one corner of the brim. He had nothing to do up there but re-braid his corn rows, and watch Shaqueeda swim around in his remaining platform shoe. That bitch Sarumizzle was gonna pay for the death of Lamar, and THAT be a promise. Motherfucka think he can fuck wit The Gat, he gots a hard lesson to learn. Fo' mothafuckin' SHO'. He then spotted a moth flyin' towards him, a big-ass moth. The moth landed in his palm and Gandizzle smiled wide, gold tooth gleaming in the moonlight.
"Ohhh Snap! Whazzup Mini Pimp! How you livin', Lamont?? I haven't seen you since back in tha day, son!" Lamont nodded. "Chillin'.. chillin'.. you know how we do."
Gandalf nodded. "Word dawg. Word."
Lamont looked up at Gandalf. "I heard about Lamar, Gat.. All his homies back in da hood poured out a forty in his honour. Gots ta give props."
Gandalf looked down at his broken shoe. "Yeah, mothafucka'll pay fo' DAT, belee-dat."
Lamont looked down. "Lamar was good peoples. Damn shame to go down like dat."
Gandalf nodded again, then after a moment spoke. "Listen Lamont. You remember old Pookie, had all those big-ass birds?"
Lamont nodded. "Yeah yeah! We always thought that bitch was crazy! Spent all his time with those birds, covered in big-ass bird shit.."
Gandalf was a touch impatient. "Yeah yeah.. listen.. Can you get him to send me a ride up here? I gots shit to do, son, and it's cold up here!"
Lamont nodded again "Yeah no prob, G. I'm on it. I'll be up in there as soon as I can. Peace out G."
"Thanks man, I owe you one." And with that, Lamont flew off, and Gandalf was alone once more.
Strider led the way through the woods with his horse, Pippin following behind him. Sam trailed behind, leading Bill the pomey pony. Merry, who was walking along beside Sam, caught up to Frodo. He leaned over toward Frodo, keeping his voice down. "How do we know this Strider ain't trippin' 'bout knowin' Tha Gandizzle, Fro-Dawg? I mean, we just picked his ass up in a bar in Bree.. how do we know he ain't straight playin' us?"
Frodo kept his eyes on Strider, leaning back toward Merry. "I think a playah afta tha Bling would be jockin' more, and be frontin' like a mothafucka."
Merry adjusted his cloak, his eyes at Strider's back. "He be frontin' enough, dawg."
Sam, overhearing the conversation, pulled Bill along to catch up. He kept his voice down as well. "Where the fuck he takin' us, yo? We been walkin' fo' days!"
Strider stepped over a log, then spoke loudly. "We goin' to Rivendell, mah niggah. No frontin'."
Merry looked up quickly when Strider spoke. Sam perked up. "No shit!! You hear that, B?? We goin' to see the elves!"
Frodo shook his head with a smirk. Sam and his fuckin' elves, yo.
Part 14: Tha Nazz creep up, an Strider saves some hobbit ass.
They was forties a' flowin' yo.
Sam, Merry, and Pippin sat around a campfire at the base of of the watchtower, smokin' a fat blunt and roastin' some tasty shit. Strider was nowhere in sight, and the boys snickered from within a cloud of weed smoke at just what exactly 'going off to polish his sword' probably meant. Frodo lay nearby, dreaming of some brotha named Jim making him wear a dress and shove green beans down the front of it an' shit. That shit was wack, yo. He woke up annoyed, and it only got worse when he realised the other three were cookin' and laughin' loudly behind him. He stood and walked toward them briskly, hands clenched in fists. "What choo think this shit is?? Mothafuckin' camp?!" He stomped out their campfire, much to the dismay of the others. Pippin was pissed, brushing off the remains of his meal. "What you doin', bitch?? Just chill the fuck out and have some smoke dawg!! You done got fuckin' ash on mah shit!". "You fuckers are gonna get us caught!" Frodo hissed as he continued to put out the fire, just as the rumble of a 'Stang echoed up through the fog that had settled over the flatlands. Pippin, Sam and Merry stood as they heard the unmistakable sound of the ride rollin' up below. Merry drew out his gat, a look of concern coming over his face. "Ah fuck."
The 'Stang pulled up at the base of Amon Sul, growling to a stop. Tha Nazz got out wit da quickness, leavin' dat bitch runnin'. The hobbits ran to the center of the crumbling watchtower and stood back to back, holdin' up their pieces, turning to watch all ways in. Tha Big Man stepped into the center of the open area, towering over the hobbits. Four of his boys followed, and stood behind him strikin' a mad fly pose. Them Nazz is shit when it comes to lookin' hard, B.
The hobbits huddled together, trying they damndest not to look intimidated. Merry and Pippin stood side by side, lookin' da Nazz over. Pippin leaned into Merry while keeping his eyes on the head Nazz. "Yo. M. Where tha fuck is Strider? He's supposed to be tha man! Protectin' us an' shit!" Merry shot Pippin a look that said "whatchoo think??", miming a little polishing-the-ol'-sword action with his free hand. Pippin snorted in disgust. "mother. fucker."
Tha Nazz made a move toward Frodo all at once, and Sam had to represent. He stepped in of Frodo, holdin' his nine sideways and pointed straight at tha Big Man. "Bes' stay back mothafucka, 'less you wan' somma DIS!" Tha big man slapped Sam out of tha way like he wa'n't nothin'. Merry and Pippin stepped in front of Frodo next, tryin' to get their boy's back. But Tha Nazz put the smack down like it weren't no thing, and Merry and Pippin went flyin' the same way Sam just did. Frodo first stood staring up at tha Big Man, then tried to back tha fuck up and fell on his ass, B. He scooted backward in an attempt to get away, but them bitches just kept comin'. Frodo was in some serious shit, yo.
Frodo watched in horror as tha Big man leaned forward, reaching for the ring on its silver chain around Frodo's neck. Frodo looked quickly from him to the ring then back to him. Nah-UH, beeyoch. Cain't get whatchoo cain't see! the hobbit grabbed the ring and jammed it on his finger, disappearing from sight. Tha Nazz tho'... they could still see him. They looked like somethin' outta some 80's rock video, all flowy an' slow motion an' shit--but Frodo was still visible. This time it was his turn to say "Ah FUCK!" Tha Big Man was pissed that Frodo tried to front.. the little bitch jacked Saurizzle's shit and he think he can use dat shit ta hide from his boys?? Fuck DAT. He whipped out his knife and stabbed Frodo in the shoulder, pinning him to the ground before reaching for the ring. Frodo cried out in pain, resigning himself to his fate.
Strider lept out of... well I don't know where the fuck he came from, but dayum dat boy can make an entrance. Homeboy come out with a motherfuckin' torch, can you believe dat shit?? Where the fuck homie found a torch?? You know what tho', it don't matta. Cos homie be wieldin' dat torch like he motherfuckin' Sammy Sosa an' shit, an' set one of da Nazz on fire. The Nazz ran off screamin' like a little bitch, and jumped over the side of the watchtower. Bam. Bam. Strider took out two more, an' they were up out as quick as dat first bitch. The fourth Nazz tried ta represent and fight Strider, but nigga please. Strider parried every attempt tha Nazz put up, backing him down to the edge of ruin and sending him over the edge. Tha Big Man tried to be all ninja an' shit, sneakin' up on Strider from behind. Homeboy smiled mischievously, and turned quickly, throwing his torch at Tha Big Man. Dat shit stuck in his motherfuckin' face B. No. Shit. Tha Big Man went off the edge screamin' like a little bitch just like the first, flailin' his arms as he went up in flames.
Strider turned, scanning his surroundings for remaining Nazz as he heard tires screeching below. Strider nodded smugly, proud of hisself. Thas right, take yo' bitch-ass back to Mordor, fuckers! You ain't no match fo'... "STRIDER!" Sam yelled, bringing Strider back to his immediate surroundings. He ran over to Frodo, still lying on the ground where he reappeared after pulling off the ring. He was breathing heavily and gasping in pain, unable to move his left arm. Strider picked up the knife Frodo was stabbed with, tossed aside when Strider appeared. He turned the knife over in his hand, surveying the blade. "This ain't good, kid. I cain't fix dis. We need to get to the elves." Strider lifted Frodo and gently draped him over his shoulder, starting down the hill toward the woods.
Sam panicked. "The fuck you mean, need to get to the elves?? That shit be DAYS away, yo! He ain't gon' make it!!"
Frodo drifted in and out of consciousness, watching Weathertop fade into the mist and distance. His thoughts drifted... my fuckin' shoulder.. ow... ow... why the fuck did the Nazz look like they belonged in the video for Total Eclipse of The Heart?... ow.. ow.. I wish this motherfucker didn't bounce so much when he walked... ow.. ow... and where the fuck is.. "GANDALF!" Frodo cried out, before falling into darkness.