"Worm!" called Saruman angrily, storming from his study in Orthanc like a boiling cloud, unleashing its wrathful vengeance upon the world. His thick brows furrowed, he looked far too much like an angry bear.
"Master!" squealed Grima, dropping from a chair, whimpering on his belly in front of Saruman. The Istari's staff was raised, pointing down cruelly at Grima's sobbing, quivering body.
"Master, I, I didn't do anything." he whispered, sliding on his belly, moving forward to kiss the hem of Saruman's robes, displaying his obeisance.
Instead of forgiveness, Grima's face received a jarring impact with the staff.
Wormtongue reeled back in pain, clutching his face. Saruman smirked sadistically.
"Now Worm, answer truthfully. Did you eat the last ice cream container?" Saruman asked icily. It was always a problem with his slave. Ever since the White Wizard bought Cookies'n Cream ice cream, Grima devoured it as hungrily and greedily as a warg. However, 'twas a shame that the monsters were not lacking in table manners, yet the same could not be said of this bawling, pleading ball of muck before him. Grima let his hands fall. Looking up at Saruman, his stood up quietly, his entire demeanor changing.
"No, great Lord of all, it must have been an orc." he explained, his reedy voice sounding deeply concerned. "They always go for the ice cream."
"Lies! Do you not know that I can see your innermost thoughts?" Saruman hissed, anger returning. Grima dropped to his knees. Well, actually, I didn't know. He thought.
"When we go to market today," Saruman explained coldly, "We're getting a different flavor. Cherries Jubliee." he finished, pronouncing Grima's doom.
"Master!
Not that!" he wailed, tears returning to stream down his clammy
face.
"There has never been a punishment like that!" he
cried.
Saruman smiled coldly. "Exactly."
-x-
As they rode their horses to the nearest market, 'Orc's' Grima remained oddly quiet. The Istari figured this would be a productful market day. The omens were good, seeing as how, for the first time ever, Grima said not a word as he rode on his snorting black stallion.
As they approached, Grima sniffled loudly. Saruman ignored him. When they tied their horses up, Grima covered his face, sobbing. The White Wizard gave him a reproachful look. Grima stopped faking and dropped his hands instantly.
Ignoring him, Saruman walked briskly ahead, and Grima, looking mournful walked behind. As they slipped through the automatic doors, in to Orc's, Grima's face lit up with joy.
"I always love when they open and close like that."
"Silence, Wormtongue, or you will merely become 'Worm' and never again have 'Tongue' in your name." Saruman warned dangerously.
Grima
closed his mouth with a snap.
Saruman
picked up a flashy red basket, and then they were off to aisle one.