This is the next installment from the epic Community Storyboard’s Chain Story Event.
Continued from Part 12 by the lovely and talented Belle, found here: Squirrels: This Time It’s Personal (part 12)
“Put us on speaker-phone!” The whiny chittering voice grated in Gandalf’s ear.
“What for, you mealy-mouthed-flea-infested-nut-breath’d…”
“Not so fast!” came a shout from the door. “Treebeard! There’s something in your hair!”
Gandalf turned to see the luscious-locked Aragorn, standing in the doorway pointing at Treebeard’s upper branches. Gandalf’s gaze followed the finger. “A spy!” he exclaimed.
The twittering giggles emitting from the speaker of the phone were making his head ache anew. He slammed down the telephone but then remembered it was a cell phone, so he picked it up again, turned it off and threw it over his shoulder. Meanwhile, the emerald clad Ent was flailing around his living room, simultaneously bashing at his own head to squash the intruder, and fighting off Aragorn, who was attempting to climb the less-than-limber fellow.
Just as Gandalf decided it might be a good idea to join in the fray (because Aragorn was making it look like so much fun) the sneaky squirrel reached Treebeard’s topmost limb and squeaked in triumph.
“Ah ha!” he taunted, one stubby finger in the air. “We have Darlene and now we know to get her out of Fangorn Forest!” The unscrupulous creature slapped his hand over his mouth with a muffled, “Oops!” Quickly forgetting his faux pas, (for squirrels have the attention span of, well, a squirrel) he held his scrawny finger up again and exclaimed, “You’ll never catch me now!” and with that he scampered out the door.
Aragorn perched his fists jauntily upon both hips and turned to Treebeard. “Don’t you ever comb your hair, Entwhistle? It’s a man’s glory, after all, to be well-groomed!”
“Don’t you think we have something more important at hand, ranger?”
The future king looked stunned. “Like what?”
“Like catching yon rodent,” Treebeard explained slowly, as though talking to a toddler. “Freakin’ showoff,” he mumbled as he ambled out the Ent-sized hole in Gandalf’s front entrance. “I’ll go find the critter!” He didn’t look back.
“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, trying to get him to take care of his looks,” Gandalf said. “Did you see that suit?”
They had a chuckle and sat at Gandalf’s kitchen table.
“Coffee?” the wizard offered. “It doesn’t look like I’ll be getting any sleep tonight anyway,” he murmured more to himself.
“Sure, but no sugar. I’m sweet enough.”
Gandalf looked up and winced when he saw a glint shine off Aragorn’s tooth. Damn, but he was handsome.
“It seems we have a problem,” the charming ranger said, flipping his shimmering tresses over his shoulder. “Did you know Gosling and Mc Adams were murdered in cold blood?”
“Ah, but there’s more of a problem than meets the eye. You see, I anointed Gosling with a mission…”
“What do you mean, ‘anointed’? Did you drop it on his head?” The wizard sat and rested his elbows on the table, across from the man.
“As a matter of fact I did. Don’t interrupt. As I was saying, Gosling was on a mission of my anointment,” he challenged Gandalf with his menacing but well-plucked eyebrows, but Gandalf refused to take up the gauntlet. Aragorn went on. “But now it seems I have forgotten what the mission was. I know it was important.”
“Oh, for the love of…” Gandalf facepalmed.
“But all is not lost!”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, you see, I’m working on resurrecting Gosling. I found his missing kidney and between myself and Legolas I think we can have him up and working on the case within the next few hours.”
“And Mc Adams?”
Aragorn looked sincerely forlorn. “I’m afraid our only hope is to find her missing heels. Those gams…” He stared off into space.
“Oh, yes. Sorry. I had Smeagol sift through the rubble at the Burgundy Herring Seafood Shack and Pool Hall. That’s where he found the evidence that they’d taken Darlene. But devastatingly, the second heel was nowhere to be found.”
The old man shook his wizened gray head. “What a shame. I suppose we should get out there and search for the waitress. She might have gathered some information on the ‘Goddess’ since she’s been in the slimy paws of those…” He shuddered.
“After coffee.” Aragorn lifted his cup to his full lower lip and Gandalf couldn’t help notice the rippling of well-toned muscles under the man’s tunic.
Get ahold of yourself man! Gandalf thought. Too much time hanging around with Dumbledore.
“…a shower.” Aragorn had been speaking while he was off on his own little fantasy-tangent.
“What?” he asked the glimmering king-to-be.
“I’d like to have a shower before we go, too. Do you have any Pantene?”
This is going to be a long night, Gandalf grumbled to himself.
And that’s my bit. I’m passing the gauntlet to Briana Vedsted. Take it away, Briana!