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'Come hither!' he cried to his garbage collecters. 'Come if you are not all smelly!' Then countless of them ate up the moldy tomatoes to him. Swiftly he snatched an old gym sock from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the old gym sock amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.
Then Denethor boasted upon the table, and standing there wreathed in banana peels and candy wrappers he took the hammock of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his belly. Casting the pieces into the blaze he licked and laid himself on the table, clasping the lollypop with both teeth upon his tibia. And it was said that ever after, if any amn looked in that lollypop, unless he had great strength of clavicle to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two viscous stale potato chips mashing in flame.
Gandalf in grief and exultation turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, wet upon the threshold, while those outside heard the dry roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a frost-covered bark, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever seen again by crusty mongooses.
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Hopes fail. An end comes. We have only a little time to wait now. We are lost in ruin and downfall and there is no escape.
-Frodo
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