Author's Note:

So this is another sort of off-shoot from Things As They Should Be: By Legolas, another story that I wrote. It's on this account so I would really appreciate it if you checked it out.

Anyway please enjoy!

Chapter #1:

It was a dark stormy night in the city of Minas Tirith. Most people, (at least most sane people), were sound asleep preparing for another day of hard work. But there were several people who were not asleep.

One of them was Faramir Of Gondor. He was pacing in a small room. The room had a long table squished into it, with several chairs all around it. Faramir looked out of the window, cursed, and resumed his pacing.

"They're late," he muttered to himself, "our first meeting and they are all late! How can they do this? Those stupid, rotten, stinky-"

"I hope that I did not just hear the forbidden S-word coming out of your mouth," Aragorn said in a threatening voice as he came in the room. Faramir only looked confused. "The certain forbidden S-word that speaks of a poor personal hygiene that a certain insane elf who fancied himself a writer was fond of," Aragorn elaborated.

"I said stupid, rotten, and stinky," Faramir assured him.

"Oh good," Aragorn smiled, "then everything is all right in here."

"Did you bring your button?" Faramir asked. Aragorn answered by pulling out a button that had the initials I. H. D. on it. "Now we just have to wait for everyone else to arrive."

And slowly but surely all of the other guests who had been invited showed up. They greeted Faramir and Aragorn and sat around the table, chatting casually. It was obvious just by looking that the people were very diverse.

If it occurred to them that Gandalf had left for the Undying Lands and thus should not be there, or if they were puzzled by the fact that as he was dead and a ghost Theoden really did not belong there nobody said anything.

Finally, surveying the room and satisfied that everyone was there Faramir called for silence. It took some yelling, some banging against random objects, and more then a couple threats but at last the room was quiet and Faramir was able to begin. He cleared his throat while everyone looked at him expectantly.

"Let me start off by saying a quick thank you to everyone for coming," he said, "it really means a lot to me. Second off I hope that you all brought your buttons." Most of the people gathered at the table nodded or held up a button to show that they had. This obviously cheered Faramir up, and he grinned before continuing. "Go ahead and put them on," Faramir encouraged them.

"Umm Faramir," the ghost of Theoden spoke up, "I could not even bring the items you sent me since I am no longer among the living and can not touch the objects in your physical plane."

"Well then I guess you are exempt if you are a ghost who is unable to touch the button," Faramir shrugged.

"I would like to be exempt as well since the color scheme does not really work with my outfit," Eomer spoke up.

"Request denied," Faramir snarled, "put it on." Eomer quickly, and with surprisingly very little muttering, (the words "just because you married my sister..." were heard by several people sitting close to him) put the button on.

"There," Eomer said in a sulky voice, "happy now?"

"Oh yes," Faramir said instantly back in his happy mood.

"So Faramir," Gandalf said interrupting the slight craziness that had threatened, "what is this club you have invited us all to join about? Your invitations to the meeting were a little vague."

"Club?" Pippin asked looking confused. "My invitation said that this was a buffet in honor of the Many Meals Of The Day." Merry, Sam, and Frodo all agreed with Pippin holding out their invitations to prove it.

"What can I say?" Faramir shrugged to everyone else in the room, "it was the only way to ensure that they would all come." He had a valid point, even the Hobbits had to admit it.

"So what is this about if it is not a buffet?" Sam asked.

"I am glad that you asked Sam," Faramir exclaimed standing up. "Friends you have all been called here because you all share a mutual dislike for something. Or more precisely for someone."

Faramir pulled aside a curtain which had been draped over a painting hanging on the wall. There, revealed for everyone to see, was a rather ugly painting of Denethor. Whoever had painted it had obviously been either blind with no idea how to paint, or someone who did not like the Steward of Gondor very much.

Of yeah, and the Steward was on fire in the picture.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Faramir announced, "welcome to the first official meeting of the I Hate Denethor Club."

There was a distinct lack of fanfare, as they all stared at Faramir incredulous and questioning his sanity. Faramir also stared at them, wondering why they were not on their feet and cheering with joy.

"Honey," Eowyn spoke up peering at the painting, "did you draw this?"

"Maybe…" he answered shiftily.

"Oh boy," Aragorn said softly.

"Here we go again," Frodo sighed.