~Wow, 32 reviews now! Thank you! I love you guys! I know I haven't updated in a while- I've been working on my other fics, both fan- and original, especially the World Domination Fund. But here it is, the fourth chapter you've all been waiting for! (I hope. . .)~

When Legolas, (who had passed out again after seeing Merenwen's 'makeover'), came to, he was in the middle of another large room. However, though he was still sitting, he was no longer tied to the chair.

Suddenly, a small hand covered his mouth. The hand smelled like mint candy canes. Mint made him sick. . . he was about to throw up when he was pulled out of the chair and dragged through a doorway. A few random Pole Elves with tags marked 'beautician 1' and 'beautician 2' then pulled a very confused Legolas to his feet and through another door, where they cleaned up the makeup, scrubbed off the marker, and put his hair back in proper braids. They even gave him a facial for good measure.

"I don't know what they were thinking- he's definitely an AUTUMN."

"No, he's a spring."

"Are you blind? He's ABSOLUTELY an AUTUMN! Now hand me the exfoliant."

After half an hour of this, one of them told pressed a button, which made the wall in front of them slide back. It revealed a round table with several Pole Elves in black suits, rather than gaudy green, sitting down. They were all watching a TV screen behind them, which showed a smiling little elf working on a toy, and singing:


'Elves are best when making toys

For little human girls and boys

Elves are here to serve you well

And of your corporate dealings never tell!'

Then a calm female voice, much like the one on PBS, intoned, "Claus TV. All propaganda, all the time."


Shaking his head, the head elf turned off the set and looked at Legolas.

"Welcome," he said, in a decidedly un- squeaky voice. (Not that Legolas would know this, but he sounded rather like Arnold Shwarzenegger, even though he was under 3 feet tall) "You are standing in the HQ of Elves in Black, Escaping Division, or EIBED. We hear you want to help us."

"Not anymore!" exclaimed Legolas. "All I wanted to do was free you from dwarven enslavement, and I've been pinched, poked, used for target practice, punched out, elf-napped, AND had my hair ruined! Although, that exfoliant you used was nice. . . where can I get some?"

"In the gift shop, down the hall. But that's beside the point- we want you to comply with our wishes, or we will beat you with candycanes, tie you up with tinsel, and dump you in the reindeer feed silo."

"Uh, director, we don't have a reindeer feed silo," announced the Elf- in- Black sitting next to him.

"I know. It just sounded intimidating. But we have lots of tinsel and candycanes."

Ugh. They were threatening him with candycanes. Just the thought of mint made Legolas turn green. . . he decided it would be best to 'comply with their wishes'.

"So," continued the Director- elf, (who sounded like Shwarzenegger) "You will show us which portal is yours, and we will settle this matter."

"Which portal? There's more than one?"

"Yes. Let me show you." He then pressed another button, which made the wall peel back- again. Legolas gaped in shock. Apparently they did not have any real walls at the North Pole.

They entered the next room, which was full of odd, shimmery circles in the walls. Legolas stared at one with fluctuating bright, acidic colors, and was immediately pulled back by the Director.

"That is the portal to a dimension called, 'Woodstock.' Let me show you what happened to the last elf that went there." He pressed yet another button and a stasis unit descended from the roof and was set upright on the floor. Inside it there was a Pole Elf, wearing loose, multicolored clothing. He had a strange emblem on a necklace around his neck, he was holding two fingers up, and worse- the horror of it- he had hair on his face! Legolas shuddered just looking at the poor lad.

"It is a 'hippie'. It is believed that the facial hair is called a 'beard' and is very contagious. He was one of our finest agents. When he came back he started calling everybody 'man', even though we are most clearly elves, and wanted to make peace with the dwarves." The director sighed with regret and closed his eyes. So did 50 other Pole Elves.

"Uh, why are we standing here with our eyes closed?" asked one by the name of Fingolfin.

"I dunno. The director did it," An elf beside him answered.

"If the director jumped off a cliff, would you do that, too?"

"Uhh. . . yep. OW! Did you really NEED to smack me upside the head?"

"Uhh. . . yep."

They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, one nancing and one plodding. The plodding steps stopped every few seconds, with nancelike foot- tapping in the background.

"It's Santa! Hide!" screamed Fingolfin.

"Santa can't nance! He can't even walk!" said the second one.

"Then it's Santa and the one with really gross hair!"

"Yes! His hair IS repulsive. Actually, I think it's just the toupee. . ."


The elves all dived behind one of the several piles of gold, obviously made at their expense. Legolas, being rather tall, had to crouch to avoid being seen, several Pole Elves on top of him.

Five minutes of plodding and frustrated nancing later, Elrond, (who had since ditched the toupee) and Santa, son of Claus (who was quite out of breath by then) walked into the portal room. They were in the middle of a discussion.

"So I will have the Lightsabers by tomorrow?" Elrond asked, doing his freaky eyebrow thingTM.

"Yes. My ungrateful laugh- stealing slug of a friend Jabba the Hutt knows a good smuggler. They will be in or he will suffer my dwarven wrath! HO HO HO!

"And the Goa'uld larvae?" (A/N: If you have not watched Stargate SG-1, the following may not make much sense.)

"Eh, I wouldn't count on those. That Lord Yu wants me to admit that he's a god. Stupid ungrateful system lord and I are in the middle of an email flame war right now- his vocabulary doesn't go farther than 'KREE!!!!!' though, so I have the upper hand. Heh heh." At least nobody could call him a pushover.

"WELL, MAKE PEACE WITH HIM! I WANT MY SYMBIOTES!" Elrond hissed through his teeth.

"That's going to be a little hard after calling his Jaffa slaves wussy."

"AHHH!" Lord Elrond screamed. 4123 years old and he STILL acted like a spoiled child. 'By Valar,' Legolas thought, 'he's a shame to our race. "Apologize to Yu, you moronic dwarf!"

"His name is Yu, just Yu, not Yu- Yu." Santa wheezed.

"ARRGH! If I don't have my lightsabers AND symbiotes in two days, I'll sic Galadriel on you!" With that, Elrond stuck his hand in a portal and disappeared. Santa son of Claus muttered, "Heh. Like some nancing greenish female elf scares me," and slowly plodded out of the room.

"Excellent. We have finally found the portal to your dimension! Now we shall ambush the dwarf, tie him up with tinsel, and lead the Pole Elves to freedom!" yelled the EIBED director, who happened to be sitting on Legolas's shoulder at the time. Legolas heartily agreed to this, if only because he was getting a cramp and the director's pointy little shoes were hurting him.

Ten minutes later, after unsuccessfully trying to find Santa ('unsuccessfully' was not entirely true; the director suspected he had gone to take his monthly shower, but nobody really cared to check, for fear of what they might see), Legolas and a small army of Pole Elves marched into the working area. Numerous elves slaving over carpenter's benches looked up.

"Pole Elves of the North Pole, unite!" announced Legolas. He climbed up unto a bench and was now menacingly waving a wooden doll. "Cast off your dwarven chains!"

"Hey! Do you know how many hours I had to work for this dwarven chain?" a female Pole Elf answered, pulling on her necklace. "Let me tell you, buddy, these do not come cheap!"

Legolas, shaking his head- and the doll- on overtime, continued, "No! Not the nice ones! The rhetorical-"

"What, are you saying the jewelry the dwarves have us make is ugly?"

"NO! It's actually very pretty-"

"Then why should we cast it off? You're not making any sense."

"Just. . . follow me," A frustrated Legolas said through his teeth. He climbed off the bench and motioned towards the exit. The Pole Elves shrugged, and, as a great number of their compatriots seemed to like the tall weirdo elf, followed him.

In the portal room, the pole elves were amusing themselves by messing around in Santa's piles of gold, throwing things into the portals, and doing the hokey pokey when Legolas had an inspired idea

"Director!" he announced. "If we can get them to all hold hands, and have the first one touch the Middle- Earth portal, we can get them all in at once!"

The director looked at him. "Do you know how hard it will be to get 250 Pole elves to hold hands?"

"It can't be that hard."

"Prove it."

Legolas managed to round up the Pole elves in front of the portal, and pulled out a candy bar, ensuring they would pay attention to him. He instructed them to stand in a straight line.

"Now," he told them, "You need to hold each other's hands."

"But I don't want to hold TarĂ­'s hand! She has COOTIES!" whined a little male elf.

"I do not!" answered TarĂ­.

"Then hold this one's hand," said Legolas, picking up another small elf and placing him beside the whining one.

"No! Gildor's hands are always sticky!"

"Then hold TATHAR'S hand!" He begged in exasperation, pointing to another young male elf. Looking after these Pole Elves was worse than babysitting young hobbits. . .

"If I do, can I have the candy bar?"

Legolas looked at him strangely as the realization dawned on him. They were exactly like young hobbits! He had been doing it all wrong, appealing to their elven-ness, which they had a decided lack of. No wonder it had failed! All he had think of was what the hobbits would do!

Then he had an inspired way to get them through the portal.

"There's cake on the other side," he whispered to one young Pole elf, who proceeded to scream, "CAKE!" and dive through the portal, followed by 250 other drooling elves, including the company of EIBED. Apparently a black suit does not change the stomach of a Pole Elf.

Legolas, quite satisfied, went through the portal. What he saw on the other side would have utterly shocked him if it would not be redundant to have him utterly shocked for the fourth time.

Boromir again. Plus Aragorn and Arwen and Elrond.


~~ I own nothing. If I did I'd be a Tolkien, or at least work for New Line studios. Also, any resemblance to the Elves in Black leather from Camilla Sandman's fic is entirely coincidental. I came up with EIBED before I read that. What can I say- great minds think alike. (j/k)

IMPORTANT A/N: If you are a self- professed rabid Legolas fangirl, I may have a spot for you in the fic. A GOOD SENSE OF HUMOR IS REQUIRED- fangirl mocking follows. Just review and tell me, along with the name you'd like to have. I need at least ten. While not ENTIRLEY necessary for the story, I thought it might be fun. :) ~~