Denethor:
Minas Tirith continued to roar along the southern edge of the Grey Mountains, occasionally rolling over a foothill or two. Denethor had reassumed his position at the helm in the Tower, occassionally casting a glance down at his new hood ornament at the head of the great "keel" of the city. "Rather a commanding and forbidding pose indeed," Denethor thought to himself.
They were cruising along quite fine, when there came a gurgle from the depths of the city, and Minas Tirith began to coast, losing its propulsion.
"Faramir!" Denethor shouted. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know, Father," replied Faramir. "We seem to having engine trouble. Maybe this nuclear drive isn't such a good idea... What if it blew!"
"Nonsense!" snorted Denethor.
"Well, the city's slowing down, whatever the problem is," said Faramir. "Perhaps we should go check."
Denethor put the coasting city in park, and they descended from the tower to the citadel, and then down to the engine room in the heart of the hill. Húrin of the Keys and most of his support staff were bustling around looking rather confused.
"What's the problem?" demanded Denethor.
"Well, we're not really sure, milord," replied Húrin. "We had to shut down the city because of leak in the pipes feeding the main reactor, but we haven't ascertained why there's a leak, and until we do, we daren't start the engine up again. The last thing we need is a Chernobyl up here."
"Wrong," said Denethor. "The last thing we need is a broken down city. Faramir, you'd better help them find out what's wrong."
"But what about you, Father?"
"Somebody has to handle the supervision detail," replied Denethor.
Giving a long-suffering sigh, Faramir set to work with Húrin and his crew, looking for what might have punctured the pipes.
"Oh, rats!" said Faramir loudly, poking around a corner.
"You've found it?" Denethor turned up almost immediately at his shoulder. "What is it?"
"I just told you."
"No you didn't, you said 'rats'," replied Denethor.
"Exactly," said Faramir. "Rats!"
"I get the whole 'rats' business," said Denethor. "Now what caused the holes?"
"Rats," replied Faramir.
"You mean... rats?" said Denethor.
"Yes, rats," said Faramir, with the air of explaning to a child.
"Oh, rats!" cursed Denethor. "Húrin! Come over here!"
Húrin of the Keys rushed over.
"Have you found it, milord?"
"Yes, I have," replied Denethor. "It's rats."
"Rats!" exclaimed Húrin.
"I feel the same way," nodded Denethor.
"No, I mean it can't be rats," said Húrin. "Minas Tirith is completely free of rats, and has been ever since the days of King Tarondor, who ruled after the Great Plague. They were said to have caused it's quick spread, and the King ordered all rats in the city destroyed. It took until the reign of Narmacil II to achieve that goal, but Minas Tirith has been rat-free for the thousand-plus years since. They must have been placed here deliberately."
"But who would have done such a thing?" said Beregond, naïvely. Denethor and Faramir exchanged dark looks.
"Sauron, I bet!" said Faramir. "He's downright evil!"
"Saruman," said Denethor. "He's much more cunning."
"Could've been the Witchking," said Faramir. "He's always had good luck getting animals to flee away from him. All he'd have to do would be to drive them this way..."
"The Halflings!" said Denethor. "Are they not also known as 'descendents of rats'?"
"I think that might be anti-hobbit rhetoric, Father," said Faramir. "But it could have been Gothmog- assuming he's smart enough."
"Fat chance there!" snorted Denethor. "But it might have been Théoden! That old bugger's always known where his real competition lies, and I wouldn't put it past a kingly pretender like him."
"Nay! Éowyn would never allow it!"
"Oh yes she would!" replied Denethor gleefully. "That woman's the devil incarnate!"
"You're mixing her up with Galadriel..."
"Well, they're both blonde!"
"Father, they're COMPLETELY different."
"Yes, Boromir, but anyway, Théoden wouldn't have to tell her about it anyway," Denethor persisted.
"I'm Faramir."
"Yes, I know you are."
"But you just called me Boromir."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did!"
"Ahem!" interjected Húrin. "Does it really matter, milords, who masterminded the plan? It might even have been Dwarfy. The point is, that they had to have been released into here by someone with access to the engine room. ONLY your lordships, myself, and the members of the crew have access. Even King Elessar wasn't allowed into the city after the game began."
"Get me a roster of your team," said Denethor. "Let's find us this traitor!"
"And then?" asked Faramir.
"And then we burn him!"