Orth-Tank, Grima, use the Force!
As Saruman sat in his study busily studying maps, calculating distances, figuring out what happened to the seven dwarven rings, eating chocolate fudge and all those other things geniuses do he began to ponder on what exactly those screams from down below were. Of course, he could always go and check but whats the point, Grima would burst into the room in a bit and tell him about it anyway. In fact, that should happen in...
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Right about now, Grima burst into the room panting heavily. He ran up to Saruman and fell before his feet. Saruman smirked and said, "Come now Grima, I know you love me and hold me in the highest respect but there is no need to bow before me." "I tripped." muttered Grima, getting back to his feet which earned him a bonk on the head from the staff of Saruman. "Now fool, speak! Why are you here?" "Well you see sir... theres a... a... ba..bu..bar.." Stammered the frightened Grima. "A burgular? This is grave news indeed." Said Saruman stroking his beard.
Grima looked at Saruman and took in a deep breath, "No sir, its a balrog!" After saying so he began to run round and round in circles for no apparent reasons. "A balrog? 'Tis gave news indeed..." Muttered Saruman. "Come Grima, we must head to the Weapons Hangar... we have preperations to make!"
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