Disclaimer: Dialogue/plotlines belong to whoever wrote "A Life Less Ordinary"; everything else belongs to Tolkien.

Author's Note: Continuing in on the "Not Enough Haldir/Legolas Relationships" and "Peaceful Protests Against Abusive Aragorn/Legolas/Haldir Relationships", I give you the zany action/comedy that makes absolutely no sense at all. Once again, I have slaughtered Lord of the Rings in an attempt to get a few cheap laughs. If you guys think it should develop, review?

The Backstory: Haldir is working in Mirkwood, employed as a common Guardian for the forest against the yicky spiders. Legolas is a spoiled little brat. Gandalf and Radagast have to get the two together somehow.

(The screen lights up with bright, blinding images of a bustling room. Everything is white, spotless, and precise – except for Gandalf and Radagast, who sit in the waiting lobby in "normal" clothing. Manwe enters and leads them back to his office. He is in a foul mood. Back at his office, he carefully shuts the door and pulls out a number of files. Radagast languidly sits on his desk, but Gandalf takes a more careful seat.)

MANWE: (picking up the first folder) Tortured by Orcs; departed to the Sea. (He throws down the file and picks up another one.) Separation due to irreconcilable differences after three thousand years. (He picks up another one.) Divorce – divorce, divorce, divorce, divorce! (He throws the files across the room. Radagast gives a little jump, but Gandalf doesn't even blink.)

RADAGAST: Things just aren't the same out there anymore. The Children just aren't falling in love the way that they used to.

MANWE: (grimly) I know. Eru is not happy. We're to introduce new incentives to our leading operatives.

RADAGAST: (smiling) Leading operatives?

MANWE: (tosses Radagast a file) Yeah. Two Children must join together in eternal bliss, yadda, yadda, yadda, for forever and ever. If you succeed, you can come back home. If not… You're stuck out in Middle-earth forever.

GANDALF: (outraged) But –

MANWE: (tossing up his hands) It's out of my hands. It's a hard case to crack. I wish you both luck.

(Gandalf and Radagast peer into the file and scowl as green light washes over their face. The scene abruptly cuts to King Thranduil's palace in Mirkwood. Legolas is doing the backstroke through a nearby lake as his butler, Maehew. After awhile, Legolas steps out of the lake and goes to a tray that Maehew has just put down. The Prince takes the bow and arrow and tosses an apple to Maehew, who shines it on his shirt.)

HALDIR VOICEOVER: He's the secret son of Turin and Neinor, back in the Second Age. When his parents die, he is taken in by a group of kind villagers and grows up completely oblivious to his incredible heritage.

(The scene comes in from the ceiling of a rather grim, dull looking room in the palace. Haldir is telling his story over a card game to two of his friends, one who is completely bored, and the other who is enthralled by the story.)

ENTHRALLED ELF: What happens?

HALDIR: Well, he goes to Rivendell to get a higher education, and –

BORED ELF: Where he discovers who his parents are, what Turin did to all of those people, feels horribly guilty about his lineage and… kills himself.

HALDIR: (taken aback) Well, yeah. How did you know?

ENTHRALLED ELF: (shaking his head) Well, it's kind of obvious, Haldir.

HALDIR: Guys, it's a trash ballad. It's supposed to be obvious. You buy it when you take a vacation!

(At that moment, Kalithlin, the leader of the cleaning/Guardian army steps in through the door. Haldir and company immediately get to their feet. Haldir grabs his quiver and his bow.)

HALDIR: Lady Kalithlin! Lovely to see you down here. Now, if you don't mind, I'd best be going –

(Kalithlin stops him and triumphantly hands him a letter.)

(The scene cuts back to Legolas as he shoots the apple off of Maehew's head. Aragorn enters, smirking. Legolas rolls his eyes.)

ARAGORN: Nice shooting, Legolas.

LEGOLAS: (archly) Care to try your luck?

ARAGORN: (moving closer) With the bow?

LEGOLAS: (flatly) No. With the fruit.

ARAGORN: Legolas, we discussed a certain proposal last night –

LEGOLAS: (taking a seat on a nearby bench) And I said no. You're already married to Arwen, Aragorn.

ARAGORN: (smarmily) True, the Evenstar is my official consort. But just think, Legolas. On this side of the Sea, it's hard to find a good lover, much less a good King.

(The scene cuts back to Haldir, who reads the letter that Kalithlin has handed him. He looks up at her, disgusted.)

HALDIR: What? You're going to replace me with "reformed Orcs"? The little "good" Orcs are going to be armed and allowed to run through Mirkwood in their little Orcish groups? I think not, Lady Kalithlin!

KALITHLIN: (nastily) This comes straight from the top – from King Thranduil himself.

(Haldir starts out the door.)

HALDIR: Then maybe it's time that I spoke to this King Thranduil!

KALITHLIN: (sharply) It's too late. You're fired!

(Back at the Lake: Legolas has Aragorn standing with the apple perched on his head. Legolas backs up a good hundred paces.)

LEGOLAS: Now, if you move at all, the offer's cancelled.

ARAGORN: (nervously) Mm-hmm. (Legolas nocks his bow and draws. Aragorn cries out.) Legolas –

LEGOLAS: (aiming) Shh!

ARAGORN: (gulping) Do you really think this is wise? (Legolas shrugs and looses the arrow, but Aragorn moves at the last minute. All the audience sees is the King falling over screaming. Legolas drops his arrow, looks guiltily up at Maehew, and smiles.)

LEGOLAS: Oops. Maehew, would you call for a healer, please?

MAEHEW: (unperturbed) It would be my pleasure, sir.

(Meanwhile, Haldir has gone out to the local wine storage cavern/bar, where his lover, Daeron, is serving drinks.)

DAERON: (concerned, but in a bad way) Haldir – what are you doing here now?

HALDIR: (sniffling) Oh, Daeron – I got fired. They're going to replace me with reformed Orcs.

DAERON: (rolling his eyes) Well, I know how they feel.

HALDIR: (glancing up) What?

DAERON: (nervously playing with his hair) Look, Haldir, I've been meaning to tell you this for awhile, but… I'm leaving you. From tonight on, you're going home alone.

HALDIR: (astonished) Daeron, I… I don't know what to say!

DAERON: (continuing) He's one of Elrond's henchmen. We're moving to Rivendell. (He shrugs) We're in love.

HALDIR: But, but – couldn't we talk about this? (Daeron begins to walk away.) Wait!

DAERON: (whirls around) No! I want an Elf, not a dreamer.

(Haldir glances down at his empty shot glass. A waiter emphasizes and fills it with some sort of liquid, which Haldir downs in one gulp. A red light flashes as he returns to his one-room flet. After hearing accusing voices in his head, he passes out.)