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Disclaimer: Random Nemesis does not own Lord of the Rings.
19: Make him celebrate the anniversary of when he lost his ring with you.
Sauron was in a foul mood, a really fool mood.
Today was the anniversary of the day that the Last Alliance of Elves and Men defeated the armies of Mordor.
It was also the day that he lost his ring.
As Sauron walked down the cobweb filled hallways, he stared to get a very bad feeling. The cause of the feeling became apparent when he walked into the throne room.
The throne room was unusually clean, and was decorated with streamers, ribbons, and other horrifying colorful decorations.
He had just walked into a living nightmare.
"Happy anniversary," Ringwraith Number Eight walked over to the stunned dark lord.
Sauron just stared.
20: I will not mistake him for the Witchking.
Ringwraith Number Three raced around wildly, in one hand was a broken pair of glasses and in the other was a mug of hot milk. The glasses were Number Three's and the mug of hot milk was for the Witchking.
Yes, the Witchking often got very angry if he didn't get his hot milk in time.
And poor Number Three had very bad eyesight.
As fate would have it, it was then that Sauron and Number Three would collide with each other as they rounded the corner of DOOM.
"I'm s-sorry Witchking, here's your m-milk," Number Three stammered as he handed Sauron the half empty mug of milk. The other half of the hot milk was splattered over Sauron and Number Three. Quickly Number Three raced away, not realizing that it was Sauron. Can't really blame Number Three, after all, everyone in Mordor seems to wear black armor.
21: Still be alive after you have done all these.
Sauron sat down in his armchair and took a sip of his black bitter coffee. He then proceeded to pick up the newspaper, and flipped to the obituaries section.
What a shame, it seems that no one has died lately.
Oh dear, it seems that the Ringwraiths have broken another one of Sauron's vases. The obituaries may need to be updated soon.
And that's the end. Mwahahahahahaha!