Warning: This is AU, freakishly wrong, OoC, and downright random. Don't read if you don't like.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gandalf, Faramir, Éowyn, Aragorn, Arwen or any other characters or places I mention.

A/N: I am aware that Faramir and Éowyn had a son named Elboron.

So, with all that said, enjoy...or not.

-Chapter 1 – Plans-

It was such a fine morning in Minas Tirith. Gandalf Christina the White was in front of the steward Faramir's royal house thing with his nauseating green pony. Gandalf was wearing his signature white sweatpant-ish things, except he had turned mod and wrote 'Suga Diva' on the butt so the young maids of the city wouldn't laugh at him for being uncool. Gandalf wore a too-short navy blue tank top with a built-in bra that he bought from Limited Too for only sixty-seven dollars. He was also wearing rainbow toe socks with red transparent sandals...something that should never be worn.

Although it might have seemed like Gandalf was going to a drag queen festival or a slumber party hosted by his giggly ten-year-old friends from the girls' PTA soccer team, he was actually going to make evil plans to overthrow the government. His odd friends, Faramir and Éowyn, had a summer home in Minas Tirith. They too were unhappy with the government. Gandalf had suggested that they join the Norwegian Mafia, but Faramir had said that they'd have to meet sometime and discuss their options.

Gandalf sighed and looked for a doorbell. He finally found the doorbell (which was right in front of his face) and pressed it. The whimsical tune of the Cha-Cha Slide filled Gandalf's wrinkled old ears with happiness and, well, the Cha-Cha Slide.

Several minutes had passed since Gandalf rang the doorbell, so he was quite pissed. Perhaps Faramir and Éowyn weren't there. After all, it was winter and this was their summer home. But alas, he was having loads of fun doing the Cha-Cha Slide.

"Slide to the left," said the really scary recording of the Cha-Cha Slide dude.

Gandalf slid to the left.

"Slide to the right."

Gandalf slid to the right and started clapping like an idiot. Just then, the door opened and Gandalf came face to face with an ugly housekeeper of some sort. Gandalf immediately stopped clapping his creased hands and stared at the ugly woman. He then smiled evilly for no reason.

"Hi," said Gandalf enthusiastically. "I'm Gandalf Christina the White and I'm here to see Faramir and his bouncy wife."

"I know very well who you are," spat the housekeeper. "You're that wizard who eats light bulbs."

Gandalf blushed. "How did you know that I eat light bulbs?" he muttered, looking down at his coloured toe socks.

"Oh, Faramir has a new obsession...eating light bulbs. I asked him about it and he told me that he picked it up from you, ma'am. Can I interest you in purchasing a bogtrotter?"

"AREN'T YOU GOING TO DAMN INVITE ME IN?" he yelled, slapping the housekeeper across her vile face. He didn't care about acting like a civilized person anymore...he was going to Faramir's and he was going to eat light bulbs. Aaah...precious light bulbs.

The ugly housekeeper sighed and stepped back, letting Gandalf enter the house.

"Howdy doody, Harold! A Star Trek fan club!" Gandalf whispered, admiring his appealing surroundings. The living room which he had just entered was a pretty one. The walls were painted a bright sunny yellow with large red polka dots. The windows were covered in purple cellophane for a hippie-ish effect. The carpet was the same nauseating shade of his pony; it reminded Gandalf of Buddhism for some odd reason. Many Power Ranger posters were hung on the dazzling walls.

"Gandie, please wait here while I go fetch your crazy friends," said the nasty housekeeper, walking out of the room.

"These people always make me darn wait for minutes," Gandalf said, jumping on a hot pink and black plaid sofa. He noticed that there was a plate of light bulbs on a coffee table near the sofa. "Oh, they won't mind if I eat just one...yeah, just one..." He reached for a light bulb and...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! NOOOO! NOT MY LIGHT BULBS!" shouted Faramir, who had just entered the room. "They're my preciouses!"

Faramir leapt onto Gandalf and started to beat him up. He laughed evilly as Gandalf's womanly body sank into the couch. Then, as if nothing had happened, Faramir stood up and cleared his throat.

"Yo, mah home slice," he said simply. Faramir was wearing a pair of pastel pink overalls with a white peasant shirt underneath. He had his hair in two ponytails. The pink ribbons in his hair made him look ultra sexy. Faramir looked like he was a little girl who was dressed in absurd clothes by his mother.

Gandalf smiled. "Yo, Homie F! Where's Homie É? Yo dawg, is dat mo fo at da damn zoo hittin' on dem apes again? Yo, she know dat ain't coo but da damn bitch do it jus to make us sexy pimps look like damn queers, yo. But mah man, what wit da clothes, home slice?"

Faramir picked up a light bulb and took a huge bite. "Actually, I have no idea where she is. Maybe she's flushing the toilet again...it's an amusing way to pass time when you have nothing better to do," he replied, little pieces of white glass falling out of his mouth. "And just to let you know, my mother and Éowyn pick out my clothes. Mum always sends me clothes for Hannukah, and I hate them, but Éowyn says it's a shame to not wear them because there are poor and very constipated fishermen in the world who would kill just to have my unused clothing. Help yourself to a light bulb, home slice."

Gandalf heaved a sigh of relief and picked up a light bulb. He raised it above his head. "Here's to a successful attempt at overthrowing the government!"

Faramir just stared at Gandalf and wrinkled his nose. "I can smell the little league baseball team from here."

"Hmmm...you're right. They smell like a man named Suzanne."

The two men sat in silence for an hour, waiting for Homie Éowyn to show up. Gandalf was quite pissed but happy at the same time. He was happy because, well, he had eaten 18 light bulbs and he was going to overthrow King Elessar. He was pissed because Éowyn didn't know that when you plan a meeting, you actually have to show up or a mob of angry pencils on cocaine, crack, and marijuana will coat your humble abode in spoiled mayonnaise.

All of a sudden, Gandalf spotted a bunch of hiccupping (and very drugged) pencils holding jars of spoiled Hellman's mayonnaise and butter knives. Oh no! All of this turmoil was really getting to Gandalf!

"The year 1874 in a toga," said a female voice behind Faramir and Gandalf. "It's wearing a toga! Toga toga toga!"

Gandalf turned around and spotted Éowyn, who had been hiding behind the couch the whole time. She was wearing really disgusting Spongebob Squarepants slippers, a baggy shirt that said '#1 STUD MUFFIN' in blood red letters, and a pair of really unpleasant stained white capris. Éowyn looked like that really nasty bum that lived outside the McDonald's in Hobbiton. She was holding her young son, who was equally unpleasant.

"Yo, mah home slice!" yelled Gandalf, jumping to his womanly feet. "You finally here, mah dawg."

Éowyn nodded. "Sorry about my tardiness, milady. There was traffic on the highway and a bogtrotter stole my cappucino."

Faramir started jumping up and down on the sofa. "Can we please start planning now?"

"Fine," said Gandalf. "Éowyn, get your fat arse over here before I stick needles in your eyes and rename you Frederiko!"

Éowyn had run away from the other two and was feeding zebras in a solitary corner of the living room. She jumped over the couch and sat down with the others.

"Better. So, we should start with reasons for overthrowing King - I mean Queen - Aragorn and Queen – I mean King – Arwen. Faramir...your reasons, please."

Faramir began to cry and looked expectantly at Gandalf, hoping for comfort from the gay old geezer. Gandalf smiled and nodded at Faramir. "He—he-he called my family disfunctional! We're not disfunctional! That damned Brady Bunch is! Oh, I really want to stew Mike Brady! He looks like a leprachaun. And Queen Aragorn told me that I look like a koala bear! I can't stand the pain, the torture!" Faramir began to sob again.

"It's alright, granny cakes," said Gandalf, helping himself to another light bulb. "Éowyn, your reasons, please."

"King Arwen criticized my son," she said simply, stuffing two whole light bulbs into her dirty mouth. "She hated his name, the damned bitch."

"And what is his name?" inquired Gandalf. He was curious...very curious.

"Caitlin," Faramir said sadly, drying his face on the sleeve of his white peasant top. "His name is Caitlin Olivia."

"Oooh!" exclaimed Gandalf, spanking Faramir's sexy arse. "Caitlin was my daddy's name!"

Faramir picked his nose. "A barrister is a barrister might be a barrister."

Gandalf then slapped Faramir across his feminine face. "Come on! Get back to business or I'll molest Chef Boyardee and stew Samwise Gamgee in a large cauldron full of severed fingers." Gandalf really wanted to start planning his evil plans. At the rate this meeting was going, it would take ten billion light years to finish planning.

"Cauldron? Where?" little Caitlin Olivia asked.

"Shut up!" roared Gandalf, picking up Caitlin and tossing him out the window. Gandalf and Éowyn began to laugh hysterically as the dirty little boy dropped all the way down to the ground and landed with a delightful splat on the cobblestone street below.

Faramir cried hysterically and sang 'Lean on Me'.

Gandalf cleared his throat and threw a metal pipe at Éowyn's fat golden head. "It has come to my attention that Queen Aragorn Marie has raised the voting age to 1,089 years!"

"THAT IS AN OUTRAGE!" bellowed one of the zebras in the corner of the room. "OH FUCK! I'M A DUCK THAT HAS REALLY BAD LUCK! I'M STUCK IN MUCK AND I DON'T HAVE NO BUCKS!"

Faramir stopped singing and spanked Gandalf's miniscule, wrinkly arse. "The only person who can vote is King Arwen because she's so gosh darn old. Plus, Queen Aragorn Marie pays his bouncy wife ten million big buckaroos each time she votes for him. Oh no! I'm in a kennel!"

Indeed, Faramir was locked in a Vari-Kennel for medium-sized dogs. Éowyn laughed and fed him Beggin Strips...dogs don't know it's not bacon! "Why the fuck is there a voting age anyway?" she asked, tentatively tasting a piece of the last remaining Beggin Strip. "It's a damned monarchy!"

A dreamy look took over Éowyn's dirty face. Éowyn released Faramir from the wretched hold of the Vari-Kennel. She then pounced on Faramir and began ripping off his girly clothes, revealing a Care Bears thong.

Gandalf couldn't watch. It was disgusting to see Faramir in his Care Bears thong and Éowyn in a coconut bra and little boys' Joe Boxer briefs. He munched on another light bulb, but alas, the soothing sound of the Cha-Cha Slide filled the room with the soothing sound of the Cha-Cha Slide...obviously. Gandalf could also hear the tip-tap of someone in high heels doing the Cha-Cha Slide.

Seeing that Faramir and his bouncy wife were getting too hot and heavy on the floor to answer the door, Gandalf put on ice skates and skated over to the door. He looked through the peephole, but all he could see was a big magenta thing. "Who goes there?"

A flustered chuckle came from the other side of the door. "I love you," the magenta thing said.

Could it be a secret admirer? Gandalf just had to know. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, revealing Barnaby the magenta dinosaur. Gandie-Wandie recognized Barnaby, who was indeed Barney's little cousin, from his show 'Saltine Crackers and Applejacks.'

"Hi, Barnaby!" exclaimed Gandalf, wetting himself from his excitement. "I'm glad to finally meet you! I watch your show every single morning, rain or shine!"

Barnaby's happy face suddenly grew evil. "Is this your offspring?" he held up a plastic garbage bag. Gandalf could see some sort of goopy creation that looked quite like Caitlin.

"No, it's Faramir and Éowyn's atrocious offspring-" Gandalf started.

"Well, it went splat outside my residence." With that, Barnaby dropped the bag of goopy Caitlin and turned around to leave, but he tripped himself and went flying down the stairs leading to the road. His blubber made him bounce on the last step, sending him flying miles into the sky like a guy named Myles on Thanksgiving.

Gandalf picked up the bag of Caitlin, shut the door, and hopped like a drugged kangaroo back to the couch. Éowyn was on top of Faramir, trying to bite off his nipples. Gandalf kicked her in the groin.

"Make war, not love," said Gandalf. He looked around wildly for light bulbs, but alas, the two starstruck lovers had squished them whilst making love. "FUCK! We don't have light bulbs anymore! You squished them all!"

Gandalf sat down on the couch and began to cry. A stark naked (and extremely sexy ) Faramir sat next to Gandalf, stroking his lice-filled hair and whispering soothing phrases such as 'Craft stores and butterflies' and 'Hairy fairies named Gary'. The author, who was drooling over Faramir whilst writing this, liked seeing him stark naked in her mind.

Éowyn left the room. Several minutes later, pops, squeals, laughter, and the sound of a microwave could be heard from the kitchen. Now Gandalf was sad and mad. This meeting was going nowhere, Faramir was naked next to him, and Éowyn was playing with the damned microwave.

He then pulled a safety pin out of his pocket and stabbed Faramir in the groin area, causing him to shriek with happiness and say, "Mamma mia! The pope is racist!"

Éowyn then entered, wearing a Bob the Builder bathrobe and carrying a plate of what looked like some sort of fried meat. "I wish the author would just damn get to the point already. I mean, she made you homies wait for me to show up when I was behind the couch, and then Caitlin just had to be thrown out the window and go splat, causing Barnaby the magenta dinosaur to come whilst Faramir and I had fun on the floor, and now I just had to microwave live hamsters!"

DUN DUN DUN!

A loud voice came out of nowhere. Alas, it was the almost divine author. "Why are you so damn normal? Why the fuck did I make you normal there, É dawg?" The almost divine author cleared her throat and sent down a bolt of lightning to cook the hamsters a bit more. "You will now all get to the point so I may shower and braid my hair."

Gandalf helped himself to a hamster, which looked quite like a piece of sweet and sour chicken from a Chinese restaurant. "Okay...how are we going to kill Queen Aragorn Marie and King Arwen Jacob?" He laughed evilly. "I was thinking that we should hack them up with machetes, put their cadavers on a giant pizza and feed it to the residents of Minas Tirith."

Faramir began to weep yet again. "A JEEP! A gosh darn JEEP!" Faramir composed himself. "My idea is better, G dawg. I say that we just kill them."

"Legolas is a turd and lettuce sandwich on rye bread." said Éowyn, running to the kitchen with the bag of goopy Caitlin. "Mummy's going to make you solid again, and then she's going to slaughter the zebras in the corner!" she said to the bag.

Gandalf joined Faramir in the sobfest of the century. Nothing was going his way again. Faramir was still naked, an added bonus for the insanely hyper author, who Gandalf thought should really get to the point.

Faramir stroked Gandalf's vile, creased, and pimply face. "Let's just forget about her, my sweetie. The author makes us cry too much...let's not let anything get to us," he said. "Are you from Tenessee?"

"No..."

"Because you're the only ten I see!" Faramir began to laugh hysterically. "Well, any more killing ideas, mah G dawg?"

Gandalf thought for a moment. "Hmmm...this is a tough one. I say we go with my idea from before...the machetes. But I don't really want to roast them, F dawg. Why don't we stuff them and bring them to a childrens' petting zoo?"

Faramir grinned. Gandalf was happy! Someone finally agreed with him!

"It's a done deal. Oh shit! The Alabama clam hound!"

Gandalf roared with laughter and did the dance for 'In the Zone'. Faramir thought this was sexy...gross, but damn sexy. An evil cackle could be heard from the kitchen.

"CAITLIN...WENT...SPLAT...AGAIN!"

Gandalf humped the sofa. "All sorts of fudge shall I eat when I have friends for dinner!" he yelled.

Éowyn entered, holding three large machetes. "This is for our operation. We should call it Operation Eskimo Butt." She gave Faramir and Gandalf their machetes and then tried to carve 'Elrond is a steaming-hot sex god' into her left forearm.

A random Eskimo/Inuit/Alaskan native fell from the sky and landed on the coffee table. He was wearing a skimpy sequined bikini and foam flip flops from Old Navy. The Eskimo then mooned the odd group of friends, revealing his lavender and mint green striped butt.

"Men named Lars who are locked behind bars," stated the Eskimo, stealing the plate of microwaved hamsters.

Faramir stood up and peed on the Eskimo. The Eskimo became furious and left their presence to stalk James Janelle Bond, the 007 agent with a really bad sinus infection.

"Give Uncle Dooku a hug!" One of the zebras in the corner embraced the other zebra, who was indeed named Uncle Dooku.

Gandalf started to cry yet again so the readers could pity him. Aye, me lad, Gandalf was a tormented soul with many a bushel of sauerkraut. Gandalf wanted to leave right then and there. He wanted out...out from the torture, the angst, the despair!

"I must leave your presence now," he said, wiping his face on Éowyn's Bob the Builder bathrobe. "I need to go to soccer practice."

"Do they smell like the little league baseball team?" aksed Faramir.

Gandalf spit in Éowyn's eye and turned to Faramir. "Did it hurt?"

Faramir scratched his icky groin area and shook his head. "Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven!" Gandalf burst out in a fit of hysterical laughter. He retied his ice skates and skated over to the door. "We shall meet here the same time next week, okay, mah home slices?" Gandalf was oh-so-happy to finally leave! He had had enough for the day.

Faramir ran over to Gandalf and embraced him in a manly bear hug. "I'll miss you, precious. Bring light bulbs with you, my sweet!"

Gandalf managed to escape the nauseating hug from a stark-naked Faramir, only to be hugged by Éowyn, who held him in her arms for forty-five minutes. She refused to let go until Gandalf lost the circulation in his sweaty armpits. Once she finally released the old coot, she smiled and said, "Martha Stewart is in the lost and found."

"Give Uncle Dooku a hug," whined Uncle Dooku. Gandalf simply ignored him.

Gandalf turned around to leave. He waved and walked out the door, his shiny white hair flowing out behind him. The end of this meeting was indeed the beginning of a new era of Middle Earth.

-strudel-

Next chapter: What the heck is a gloria raisin, and what do they have to do with Gandalf's plans? What kind of strange people will Gandalf and Éowyn meet when they go to the supermarket? What are they doing there in the first place? Stay tuned and review to find out!