The Mount Zoom Challenge - GAME

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Pit Stop

The Vehicles were battered and bruised after so many challenges and interruptions. Some of the Drivers were getting over worked with all the repairs, it was getting silly. Bereft of ideas, Dwarfy took up the palantir and called all the vehicles...

"Alright, you lot," he said, "We're going to have a little break now. I'm sending some repair houses to your locations to fix up your vehicles. You won't lose your position in the race, I won't let anyone go until I say so!"

All the vehicles slowed down and stopped, except Mount Zoom. Dwarfy could hear Sauron's evil laughter from a mile in the air. He sent the baby dragon down to burst his tyres.

So, the race stood still. Here, then, are the positions so far...

1st place: Bag Endless fuel
2nd Place: Mount Zoom
3rd Place: Medel zoom
4th Place: Barad Dash
5th Place: Minas Taxi
6th place: Minas Mor-go
7th place: Orth Tank

[Hookbill the Goomba]

End of the Rest

The tires were repaired, the fuel tanks filled up, the windows patched, suspension un-rusted, the engines all working a little better and the Mount Zoom Challenge was ready to continue! All at once, the vehicles zoomed off towards their goal.

They road along quite nicely for a good while, but then, as was becoming usual, something was slowing the vehicles down and yet another challenge was up ahead!

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Man-eating Horses horror!

You are going well towards the grey Heavens after your nice long pit stop, yet your engineers stop working and are filled with fear. The driver sees a whole group of horses stood outside the Vehicle. "Drive over them!" says Sauron, But when he looks back at them they are inside the vehicle!

These are Man-eating Horses! (They even like Orcs and Miar with a side order of Hobbits).

Get rid of the horses some how

[The Saucepan Man]

Crazy Horses! Wah! Wah!

“Man eating horses!”

The cry cam from Sam, who had taken the wheel while the other Hobbits relaxed in the parlour.

“Gosh!” said Pippin, munching lazily on a chicken leg. “He must be hungry. I wonder whether he might prefer chicken instead.”

"Who?" asked Merry.

"The man eating the horses," replied Pippin. "I've heard of being hungry enough to eat a horse, but I don't think that even I could manage more than one."

“Er – I don’t think Sam is referring to a man dining on horse meat, Pip,” said Merry. “I think he means horses that eat men.”

“Well, we should be fine then,” said Pippin. “We are Hobbits, not Men.”

“Actually, many scholars hold that Hobbits are a sub-branch of Man,” pointed out Merry. “In which case …”

“Well, that’s all very well,” interrupted Frodo. “But we really could do without a herd of equine carnivores running about the place.”

“Nonsense!” said Bilbo, as he roused himself and headed for the door to the living room. “There’s no such thing as man-eating ho … Ulp!”

The other Hobbits rushed to join him. And sure enough, there in the living room, half a dozen evil-looking, sharp-fanged horses were advancing menacingly on Sam.

“Grammercy! Lawks a lordy!” cried Sam. “They’re after having me for their dinner, Master Frodo sir! Help me!”

“Well, whether Hobbits be Men or not,” observed Frodo. “They don’t look particularly choosy to me. What are we going to do?”

[The Saucepan Man]

They eat horses, don’t they?

“Horse eating men!” came the cry from Ted Sandyman who, for want of another character, was stationed in the Thrush’s Nest.

“I know, Ted,” shouted Bilbo. “There are six of them down here.”

“No,” replied Ted. “I mean that there are men who eat horses approaching.”

“How do you know that they eat horses?” asked Frodo.

“Because they are chewing on horse-flesh and brandishing horse heads,” shouted Ted back. “And their standard bears the recipe for a rather fine Cheval en Croûte avec Jus Piquant.”

“Aha!” declared Bilbo. “It seems that the horse-eating men have sniffed out the man-eating horses.”

“Eh?” said Pippin, confused.

“It’s quite simple, Pip,” explained Merry. “We are beset by horses that eat men, which dietary description includes Hobbits for present purposes. Yet it would appear that these man-eating horses do not sit at the top of the food chain in this strange land. The horses that prey upon men are, in turn, preyed upon by men that eat horses.”

“Oh. Thanks. That’s much clearer,” said Pippin, still confused.

In the meantime, the man-eating horses had lost interest in Sam and were shifting nervously, nostrils flaring and eyes rolling. With a jubilant cry, the horse-eating men burst through the front door and advanced upon the man-eating horses, brandishing spears and pastry cutters. Mass confusion and panic broke out. Two of the man-eating horses were caught by the horse-eating men, while the other three managed to make it to the side door and out onto the plains. The horse-eating men quickly trussed up their captives and set off in hot pursuit of the remaining man-eating horses. It was all over in a flash and Bag-Endless-Fuel was calm once more.

“Well, that was … interesting,” remarked Frodo.

“Indeed, my boy,” replied Bilbo. “But let us not tarry here. It is a silly place. Let us be on our way. I propose that we head Due North through the pass in the spur of the Ered Luin.”

“I wish that I’d had time to take down that recipe,” remarked Pippin.

[Meneltarmacil]

A terrifying NEIIIIIGGGGGHHHH echoed through Orth-Tank.

"What is all that noise?! I was on the palantir!" Saruman shouted.

"*SNRRRRRKKK* What?" asked Grima as he woke up.

"Never mind," said the wizard as he headed downstairs.

In the engine room, a battle was raging between the Uruk-Hai and a number of ferocious-looking horses. The horses seemed to be inexplicably gobbling up the orcs, as if the orcs had no fighting skills whatsoever.

"I think what we've got here is a case of Imperial Stromtrooper Syndrome, sir," Grima offered as he walked up. "It frequently occurs in massive armies of doom. Symptoms include mass stupidity and inability to kill the good guys at even point-blank range with superior firepower."

"Ah yes, I remember now," Saruman said. "Caused by narrators unfairly favoring the heroes, if I remember correctly. I know just what to do. We'll tie up the narrator and write the rest of the story ourselves."

Just as they were about to do that, however, tragedy struck and... Hey, what are you doing? Put that rope away now! I'm serious! Stop it! AAAAAAAmmmph...

This is Saruman taking over for the moment. We shipped the horses off to the glue factory, gave the meat to the orcs, and will release Meneltarmacil if he agrees to behave. Oh, and I inexplicably acquired fifty billion dollars and my own private space station.

That really isn't good writing, you know. And you're making me sound too much like Nilp with those italics.

Cut it out, or I'll feed you to the orcs.

*GULP*

EDIT: We're heading WEST.

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

Faramir:


"TERRIBLE... HORRIBLE... News!" Faramir panted running to Denethor who was steering the city over the plains somewhere in the wild. "A horse... in the engine room... a while ago, disguised as Grandma Ecthelion", he wheezed on. "When I wondered her big ears and protruding teeth it revealed itself. The beast gobbled up Vérmïndil as one piece! I ran for my life - I mean... came to give a due raport to you, father."

"Hold your horses!" Denethor frowned looking at his gasping son. "There's some uninvited hack aboard, and it ate who?"

"Vérmïndil, the hermit from our engine room", Faramir whimpered.

"Did it indeed? What a splendid horsy", Denethor smiled approvingly. "That's not so bad. I say we keep it. Having some extra horsepower never hurts."


But before Faramir got to protest, Húrin darted at the two men.

"My lords, there is a horse in Mrs. Ecthelion's night gown galloping towards the citadel with mad glint in its eyes."

"It's out to get us", Faramir whispered. "What we shall do now!"