Lord of the Lies, pt. 3 of....

Part 1 Part 2
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[Boremir McCain] "Voto, you look like you're getting tired. You should let me carry the Ring for a while."

[Voto] "No, thank you. I'll get by. It is a difficult burden, but I'll manage."

[Boremir, subtly angry] "Then let me at least have a look at it."

[Sam] "Boremir, why do you take that tone with Voto?"

[Boremir] "Screw you, Sam! I wasn't talking to you! Just gimme the @#*^$(*& Ring! I'll be the candidate and I will win."

[Voto] "Frankly Boremir, as a candidate, you're a bit of a bore. The base just doesn't seem to rally around you. I thank you for your years of service, but there's a certain doubt about whether you might betray us on crucial issues. I'll not give the Ring to an unpredictable maverick."

Boremir draws his sword and takes a few menacing steps towards Voto. Sam jumps between the two. Previously unseen emessem snipers begin sniping from the cover of their mastheads, and Boremir goes down, just a few steps away from seizing the Ring. Before fading away completely, Boremir utters an enigmatic last word: "I vote no on Sonia Sodomizór!"

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Sarubama, on the verge of tears, is kicking around the debris left of the Towering Ego. An ugly, hunchbacked creature with blatantly fake hair ambles his direction.

[Sarubama] "Halt! Who is it that comes near my fragile ego?"

[Joe Bigor] "Master, it's me! Your faithful assistant! Is it alive?"

[Sarubama] "Joe, you're talking nonsense. As usual, nothing you're saying is the least bit applicable to the situation. You're in a completely different fantasy land. You don't belong here."

[Bigor] "Master, it doesn't matter what fantasy land! For I am always in fantasy land!"

[Sarubama] "Well, OK then. Help me pick this mess up before Michelle gets home and beats me with her broomstick!"

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[Hillum, looking over a rocky crag at Sam and Voto] "My precioussss! I will yet claim it from those sssneaky voterers!" [Leaps down to attack]

[Sam, backhanding the shriveled monster] "Get away from him, you beech!"

[Hillum] "My precioussss! You stole it from me! It was mine! Mine! I was to wear it and rule! I am the smartest woman on the planet! I waited patiently, for years, for my turn! It wasss all magnificently planned, but you voterers ruined everything! Even Limdalf said I had an 80% chance of capturing the Ring! Give it to me! Now!"

[Sam] "Stop it. We're in no mood. Voto is weary of the burden placed upon him, and I'm just about fed up with your whining. The Elephant Man has ankles more shapely than yours, and your laugh sounds like a cartoon character. You will never have the Ring."

[Hillum] "If I can't have it, NOBODY CAN!"

[Voto and Sam] "Perfect. You can show us the way to the Beltway and help us destroy it."

[Hillum] "Yessss. I will help you. I know the Beltway well. I will take the Ring. Ooops, heh, heh. I meant 'I will take you to the one place the Ring can be destroyed!' Sorry."

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Strider, Cheygolas, Sarahwyn and Jimdli continue their trek to Gondor. As they round a bend, they encounter a band of slaves working on a Mordor Infrastructure Renewal project. The slaves struggle under heavy loads of quarry stone, as vicious taskmasters supervise and lay whipcords across the backs of the laborers. As they toil, the workers chant the verses of The Slave's Lament:

Strange man came from Huh-why-ee,
Promised change, brought misery.
He killed our jobs, told us to heed,
He taxed our gains for his own need.

We fought him hard, we fought him well -
On Capitol Hill we gave him hell!
Then he nationalized our industry,
Oh will we ever be set free?

Blood begins to boil. This injustice must not stand! The four heroes prepare to assault the taskmasters. Even their horses sense the evil and grow anxious for battle - the hooved beasts straining at the reins wanting to charge. But before they can begin, a far worse sight is seen in the distance: The armies of Mordor are crossing the Yellingmore Fields to begin the final destruction of Gondor. Soldiers, as countless as the sand on the seashore, march on, led by ACORcs. Some ACORcs are saddled atop giant battleRINOs, which tow catapults and other fearsome siege engines across the plains. The soldiers continue forward as the machines launch ponderous boulders of stimulus spending against the ramparts of Gondor.

[Jimdli] "Look! They're firing on the city!"

[Cheygolas] "That stone of cap-n-trade has smashed the parapet!"

[Sarahwyn] "The walls are falling! The enemy is entering the breach!"

[Strider, sword held aloft] "I will not live one day while this goes on! I will defeat them or I will die! Chaaaaarge!" [spurs eager horse]

The horses lunge forward at a furious gallop. Their hoofbeats seem to devour the very earth. The four reach the enemy's flank and crash the lines. Outnumbered by thousands-to-one, the warriors know no fear and their steeds slow for no one. Sparks from steel blades greeting armor fill the air. Dorcs that stand are trampled while those that flee are struck with the sword. Such is the heroism of the four, that centuries later the minstrels still sing of their valor.

Riding through dustclouds and barren wastes,
Galloping hard on the plains.
Chasing the libtards back to their holes,
Fighting them at their own game!
Trampled on freedoms, Repeated stabs in the back -
Enough is enough, Now it's time to atta-a-a-a-ck!"

Reaching the heart of the enemy formation, the horses stop in a panic before a hideous foe - A hooded, almost skeletal figure sitting astraddle a flat-black Toyota Prius - The Empress of the Ringwraiths!

"I am the Witchqueen of Botoxia! Prepare to meet your doom!"