The Lord of the Socks: The Fellowship of the Sock - The Zôkgûl!! [Insert A Second Bout of Really Ominous Music Here]

(We see the Off-White Riders crash down the Bree Gate and park their motorcycles in the parking lot before sneaking into the hotel, holding silly string. They creep into the sockbits' room and spray the beds with silly string. Thinking the sockbits dead, they cackle and rip off the blankets. Finding pillows instead of sockbits, they scream and knock over the beds in rage. The scene returns to Strider and the Sockbits, who are in Strider's room watching the unfolding events on a security camera)

Frodo: What *sniff* ARE they??

Strider: They were once men, great kings of men. Well, sort of, anyway. Then Sockron lured them with Elvis records and then he gave them the Nine Socks of Power. Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into bleach. And now they are total zombies or something. They are the Zôkgûl, Sockwraiths, completely undead. By the way, is the opposite of undead "alive" or "dead"? Well, anyway, at all times they feel the presence of the Sock, drawn to the power of the One...

(they are leaving Bree with Bill the Incredibly Cute Pony.)

Strider: They will never stop hunting you...

Frodo: Where are you taking us?

Strider: I have no idea. (checks script) Ah, yes. Into the Wild.

Merry: How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?

Frodo: We don't. But the script seems to be convinced he is.

Sam: But where is he leadin' us?

Strider: To Rivendell, Master Gamgee, to the House of Elrond.

(the sockbits look at each other nervously)

Pippin: He can hear that well?

Sam: Yikes...

(After trudging through the woods for some time,Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin (with Bill the Incredibly Cute Pony) halt to eat. Strider does not concur...)

Strider: Gentlemen, we do not stop till nightfall. (Gentlemen, yeah right...)

Pippin: What about breakfast?

Strider: You've already had it! Haven't you?

Pippin: We've had six, yes. What about seventh breakfast?

Strider: (looks exasperated and walks away)

Merry: I don't think he knows about seventh breakfast, Pip.

Pippin: (frantically) But what about elevensies? Brunch, luncheon, pre-afternoon tea, afternoon tea, dinner, after-dinner tea, supper, pre-midnight snack, midnight snack? He knows about them, doesn't he?

Merry: I wouldn't count on it...

(Strider chucks apples at them)

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