[littlemanpoet]

"I call Panakeia of Harad to the front!" Anakron announced.

Something toward the back began to move. It looked like an up-ended couch. As it neared the front, Anakron saw that it was indeed an up-ended couch, being moved on a rather large two-wheeled dolly. He raised his eyebrows: he had not been aware that that particular anakronism had been conassigned to Mordor; maybe the two wizards were responsible. Having no control over their decisions, Anakron shrugged and waited until the couch stopped mere footsteps away from him, was let fall with a THUNK, and Panakeia was revealed behind it, hoisting up a shoe and an Eagles jersey for good measure.

"I got these three things from celebrities, and they gave them to me of their own free will!"

"No deception?"

"Wellll.... there was a wee bit of deception... but you didn't say we couldn't!"

"Quite right. Nevertheless, there are a couple of individuals who have been waiting to speak with you in that regard." Anakron pointed stage left, where stood two athletes, staring at her accusingly.

"Oh! Donovan McNabb and David Beckham." Panakeia's eyes widened momentarily, but she looked back to Anakron, becoming fierce. "But they gave them to me freely!"

"Quite so."

"An' we want 'em back!" McNabb said.

"Hold it!" Panakeia cried. "Do I get points for completing the celebrity hunt test?"

"The couch was adequate," Anakron replied. "You receive nine points, one deducted for lateness."

"Okay. I just wanted to be sure."

"And the shoes and jersey were unnecessary."

"Well, I wanted to be sure."

"As I said, unnecessary. However, your sheer gumption and enterprising nature shall be rewarded. Add two points. Eleven total for the celebrity hunt."

Panakeia's eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped in surprise. A murmur went up in the crowd, to the effect of 'I thought there were only ten points per test; what's with eleven points?' Panakeia heard the crowd and flushed. Anakron paid them no mind.

"You may return the shoe and jersey to their owners, Panakeia of Harad."

"No problem!" she said happily, and handed them over. The two athletes left.

"On to the other tests," Anakron announced. With that, four individuals came forward that Panakeia recalled having seen somewhere before, but she couldn't recall precisely where.

"Yep," one of them pointed, "that'd be her. She up an' jus' abaoot ruined our leetle scam."

Suddenly recognition dawned. These were the King's Trio: Willy, Isildil Payne, Dwaine, and Eckaust Fûmës.

"That is what I thought," Anakron responded. "You originally achieved ten points for this challenge. For bringing these four to justice, one bonus point. Eleven points for the first test."

"But - but - I didn't bring them to justice!" Panakeia protested.

"You were being filmed for the reality show; their scam was revealed on kamura, and thus they were brought to justice."

"But I didn't tell anybody a thing about them!"

"They complained about you, and so we looked into it. Caught musically scamming in the Bliddy Unnergrind. Four counts of misdemeanor. Moving along...."

The four King's Trio villains marched off, giving Panakeia evil looks, and were immediately accosted by Lûgnût and his/her cronies. "Pay up!" s/he was overheard yelling at them.

"....moving along," continued Anakron, "I had given you six points for your efforts in the race, as I gave all the others; however, it came to my attention through Bert the kamura troll-" at this point, the kamura wielding troll stepped forward. Impossibly, Panakeia received a conspiratorial wink from a troll, something that she would tell her friends and family the rest of her life, which nobody would believe ... for Bert never made it out of Mordor, at least not in any way that the legends tell us. "-that you singlehandedly rescued Valde Delego: one additonal point awarded, in spite of the fact that Valde squandered his chance not to fail. Total for the race test: seven points."

Panakeia sensed a pattern developing, as did the increasingly loudly murmuring crowd in, and wondered why things were turning out as they were. Had she done so badly on the general rating that Anakron was unbelievably having mercy on her? No, he wouldn't do such a thing. He had failed Valde already; why not her?

Seven more people stepped forward, saluting Panakeia each in their turn: Jim Kirk with toupeé in place, Spockú with both eyebrows now, and Dr. McBones, each wearing bodiform outfits bearing an emblem saying 'United Federation of Drekkies'; there was the Goth roommate, the professor troll, the fortune teller.

And last but not least, Nichole, who smiled brightly at her and came over and gave her a big, mushy hug. "I think you're going to make it!" she cried.

"Thanks!" Panakeia smiled, feeling a bit dazed.

"What is the opinion of you witnesses?" Anakron asked.

"Pass her!" Panakeia had never seen a Goth student acting so positive in all her days in Mordor.

"With flying colors!" Nichole added gleefully.

"Quite so," Anakron said, a small smile forming on his lips. "Although I can find no persuasive reason to change your score for the werewolf test, so that remains an eight. Please have a seat, Panakeia of Harad." Anakron gestured to the couch. Once she was seated, Anakron stepped from his little platform of Grand Authority, and sat down beside her.

"Now what's going on?" Panakeia wondered a little nervously; but she voiced a different question. "Um, what about the triple test at the University?"

"Tens for each. Does that satisfy you?"

"Yes!"

"There is one more witness," Anakron said smoothly.

"Oh?"

Anakron nodded. "Elempí."

"But he's .... you .... isn't he?"

"Indeed," Anakron smiled. "You were right about something, as was my alter-ego, who though he can be such an idiot, still has excellent judgment in ... certain matters."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"You are indeed beautiful without the hair color and make-up."

"Oh!"

"Thirty points for creative ingenuity, regaining your conscience, and for doing it all with becoming grace."

Panakeia blinked. Something clicked in her mind. "I get it. You're coming on to me and you're beefing up my score to get what you want."

"Not so," Anakron replied smoothly. "I would award you just as highly regardless of my personal inclinations. However, as they say, there is no time like the present. Obviously, you have passed with the highest score of any of the Offending Party; ninety-six out of one hundred by the way, and you may leave Mordor in just a little while..."

Panakeia sensed a following clause. "But..." she said.

Anakron smiled as winningly as he seemed to be able. "...but I would like to make an offer." Panakeia waited on pins and needles as Anakron paused - she was sure they hadn't been the stuffing for the couch until this very moment, but this was Mordor - "Stay with me, join me, walk my path with me, and see if you enjoy it. I assure you that you will not lack for any need or desire..." Anakron nodded toward the Siamese Cat that sat atop his staff. "... for I most certainly have the means to assure your security. Do not speak just yet!" Anakron raised a hand to her lips, for she had been about to speak her mind - she couldn't believe she was letting him touch her lips! - "Do not answer me yet. Give it a little time, think on it, mull it, and by all means dream a bit, and we shall talk of this again." With that, Anakron stood and with cloak billowing in such a way that his form looked more upright and handsome to Panakeia - she was sure it must be a trick of the dweomer - and he resumed his stance on the small pedestal. Panakeia crossed her legs and watched the Grand Anakronist, her thoughts whirling.