Slowly emerging from a number of cracks were...little brown poops. The poops emerged from the cracks of the bums of all the members of the Fellowship as they saw thousands of Bucket-Bills teeming from crevasses in the ground, carrying buckets. A large form, carrying a large spiked weapon known only as a swingy-hitty was being led alongside the Bucket-Bills on a chain.

"They've got a Superfreakyfreaky!" shouted Borgonium.

Luckily, the fellowship members were able to follow neon painted footsteps to a Skyride. One by one, they got on the Skyride and rode to safety, all except Samgam, who barely missed the "You must be this tall to ride" requirement and had to sit and wait for the Bucket-Bills and the Superfreakyfreaky. When they caught up, Samgam had a bucket put on his head and then he got stuffed in the Superfreakyfreaky's anus.

The Skyride took the fellowship guys to a special room, where they saw a giant crypt.

"'Tis the crypt of Olololo the Bold," guessed Strider, completely ignoring the neon sign reading 'Here lies Umlaut, humpy-king of the cave-midgets'.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" shouted Grabby. "My spare cousin!"

Lordo snickered. "Maybe you should have gotten a..." he began, but before he could finish what promised to be an utterly horrible joke, Galfgab smashed his jaw again with his plastic walking stick.

"We must be very quiet and maybe the Bucket-Bills won't be able to find us in this room," said Galfgab. "Everyone be absolutely silent. Dead quiet. Stone cold soundless." And they all surely would have if only it hadn't been Opposite Day.

"HAPPY OPPOSITE DAY!" shouted Borgonium, Grabby and Strider.

"MMMLFGLF RRBRRR GLLLL!” shouted the now much-jawed Lordo.

"What?" gasped Galfgab. "Stop shouting!"

"OKAY, WE'LL START SHOUTING!" shouted Borgonium.

"IT'S OPPOSITE DAY, SO WE DO THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT YOU SAY!" shouted Strider.

"GGLLF MBRRRTBRRR!" shouted Lordo, now drooling visibly, his jawbone severely unattached from his skull.

"I LIKE APPLES!" shouted Grabby, a propos of nothing.

"What? You - oh, Jesus Christ, you retards. I hate you all," said Galfgab, and he was just about to leave when Bucket-Heads started pouring into the room from the Skyride. Also on the Skyride, riding alone, was the Superfreakyfreaky.

"Oh my God! They've got a Superfreakyfreaky!" exclaimed Borgonium, whose memory was spotty at the best of times.

The fellowship fought valiantly. Grabby cleaved his axe into Bucket-Bill after Bucket-Bill, revenge clearly on his mind. Borgonium distracted several of the Bucket-Bills by putting on an impromptu panflute concert. Not only did this take the Bucket-Bills' minds off buckets and fighting with buckets, but by charging $25 a head, he made a tidy profit as well. Lordo pulled out his trusty sword Rustmagnet and quickly began whittling a duck, but gave up his project when it came out looking more like a hippopotamus. Galfgab fought off hundreds of Bucket-Bills and the Superfreakyfreaky. Strider hid in Umlaut's coffin and, while there, managed to read the most recent issue of Redbook and get a much-needed forty winks.

The fellowship seemed to be winning the battle until the Superfreakyfreaky smashed a pointybarb directly into the chest of Lordo. Lordo fell to the ground and, after a brief cheer was raised by all those involved, the battle resumed. This time, the Bucket-Bills seemed to be winning, as they were spurred on by the sight of Lordo getting smashed and the notion that they'd killed a member of the fellowship, while the remaining fellowship members had to overcome strong feelings of relief and contentment before getting back into the swing of things. Just when all seemed lost, arrows started zinging into the room from atop a giant speaker unit and killing the Bucket-Bills.

"Look who I found!" shouted Trustlethwimble, pointing at Labbo Leg-Of-Lamb, but because he was so short, really pointing directly at Labbo's penis.

This angered the fellowship again, so they quickly killed the Bucket-Bills and Superfreakyfreaky and plucked a goopy Samgam from the Superfreakyfreaky's anus.

"Where's Lordo?" asked Samgam.

"He's dead," gasped Strider, poking out of the coffin where he had nearly run out of air.

"Yessssss!" shouted Samgam, high-fiving Grabby, who quickly wiped his hand on Labbo's blanket.
"I heard that!" Lordo said, getting up, groggy.

The fellowship all stared in astonishment. Lordo opened his vest to show off a shirt that looked like it was made of pure magic!

"Mithyfists!" said Grabby. "He has a vest made of Mithyfists! I'd only ever heard of it before! Where did you get that?"

"From Galfgab's mother's vagina," exclaimed Lordo, and they all laughed except for Galfgab, who knew it was true; his mother's vagina was the only place where people could legitimately get Mithyfists.

"Let's get going," said Galfgab curtly. And they did, back into the Piles of Volvula, where they were suddenly surrounded by ORMteen Gilbsly-fourn Bucket-Bills.

"What will we do now?" asked Labbo.

Then, for no reason, all the Bucket-Bills turned and ran away. But there really WAS a reason! A big, fiery thing with big fiery horns and a whip made of the finest licorice came around a corner. It saw the fellowship and howled as it made its way toward them.

"A LEG OF MANY FOOTS!" shrieked Galfgab like a 12-year-old female cancer patient being raped by Ricky Martin after the Make-A-Wish Foundation set the two of them up to meet as the girl's dying request. “There is nothing any of you can do,” he decided, stepping to the front of the party. “A Leg of Many Foots is an ancient creature from the oldy-olden days of Muddle Earth.”

“Gosh! How old IS it, Galfgab?” asked Trustlethwimble, his mouth agape and his finger lodged up his nose to the third digit.

“What am I, an encyclopedia?” asked Galfgab, whacking the Halfsie on the head with his plastic walking stick. “It’s really really old. If you want more than that, go cut it open and count the rings. What I’m trying to get across here is that we’re screwed. Nobody has ever seen a Leg of Many Foots and lived to tell the tale.”

“How did you know what it was then?” asked Strider Stepopolous innocently, before a thin whistling hit the air, and Strider pulled back his hand suddenly, nursing a sizeable bruise in the shape of a plastic walking stick.

“Would you idiots listen for one second?” said Galfgab. “I think I’ve got a plan. You run, and I’ll stay here and try to fend it off. You bozos take the ring and hoof it across the bridge to the exit sign. Wait till I’m across, then cut the moorings on the bridge. The Leg of Many Foots falls to its death, we take off, end of problem. Who’s with me?” asked Galfgab to thin air. He looked around curiously before seeing the distant fellowship sprinting at top speed away from him, easily a good hundred yards away by then.

“Did you catch all of Galfgab’s plan?” asked Labbo, running.

“I kind of lost him after he said ‘you run’,” admitted Borgonium.

“Me too,” agreed Grabby, his little legs a blur. “Let’s assume that was his whole plan, and keep running.”

The Leg of Many Foots approached Galfgab menacingly, its many foots glowing hot and shooting from odd angles out of its leg. “Grargh!” it said, conversationally.

“Hello,” said Galfgab, his voice cracking. “I am Gabbo Galfgab, keeper of the onion dip bowl at Caesar’s Palace and Holder of many Emmys.” He waggled his Emmy to prove the point. “You must not pass.”

“Grarrgghh!” said the Leg of Many Foots.

“Must not pass, that is, until you pick a card, any card! Hey presto!” parried Galfgab, fanning a deck full of the four of clubs out in front of the monster. The Leg of Many Foots looked at the deck curiously, then picked a card, staring at Galfgab the whole time to see if it was picking the right card.

“Was your card the four of clubs?” asked Galfgab.

“Graargh!” agreed the Leg of Many Foots in disbelief, showing Galfgab the four of clubs in its foot with a big smile.

“Abra cadabra!” said Galfgab, kicking it right in the Foots and hoofing it as fast as he could towards the bridge.

Meanwhile, the rest of the fellowship had made it to the other side of the bridge, and were waiting around wondering what to do next. “What’s taking Galfgab so long?” wondered Strider aloud.

“Oh, wait. There he is, running across the bridge,” said Labbo, pointing at the magician as he came tearing across the thin wooden bridge at about sixty miles an hour.

“Are you sure that isn’t the Leg of Many Foots?” asked Borgonium, scratching his chin suspiciously.

“Hey, you might be onto something,” agreed Grabby. “How many foots did Galfgab have?”

“Two?” guessed Labbo.

“Methinks it was five,” guessed Borgonium.

“I like apples?” guessed Grabby — as it turned out, correctly.

“Whoa Nelly!” yelled Strider, as the Leg of Many Foots came barreling across the bridge after Galfgab. “What’s that big thing?”

“I think it’s Galfgab,” said Labbo, his mighty Faggot Archer eyes squinting into the distance.

“Are you sure?” asked Borgonium, squinting.

“I don’t know,” admitted Labbo. “How many fiery whips of licorice and giant flaming tails did Galfgab have?”

“Methinks he had five tails,” guessed Borgonium – as it turned out, correctly, though Galfgab would never have admitted it.

“Well, one of them is probably the Leg of Many Foots,” said Strider wisely.

“What if they’re BOTH Legs of Many Foots?” yelled Trustlethwimble, peeing his pants.

“Egads!” yelled everybody, peeing their pants. They fell over themselves trying to cut the moorings to the rope bridge. Strider, Borgonium and Grabby all hacked at the moorings with their weapons. Labbo fired arrows at the moorings. The Halfsies peed their pants at the moorings. Working together, they breathed a sigh of relief as the bridge gave way suddenly and fell into the depths below.

“You assholes!” yelled one of the things on the bridge that may have been Galfgab but may also have been a second Leg of Many Foots, plummeting down into the dark.

“That was a close one,” said Strider. They all agreed it had been a close one. “Now what?” asked Borgonium after a long pause.

“Now we wait for Galfgab,” said Strider. “And wait till we tell him we killed not one but TWO Legs of Many Foots!” They all cheered at this and gave each other high fives. Labbo ran around giving everybody butt-pats until they told him to stop.

“How’s Galfgab gonna get across the bridge?” asked Samgam, puzzling at the bridgeless expanse in front of them. They all puzzled at it for a while.

“Fucking fuck,” said Strider. “Stupid stupid stupid stupid…”

“Galfgab’s gonna kill us,” said Grabby.

“He’s a sharp old cookie,” said Strider. “He can look after himself.”

“That’s probably true,” everybody agreed.

“He’s resourceful and brave,” added Labbo.

“That’s also true,” everybody agreed.

“I’m hungry. Let’s get out of this stupid cave,” said Grabby.

“That’s also true,” everybody agreed, and left the stupid cave. Once outside, they decided to have a brief five minutes of silence for Galfgab. Then Samgam farted, and the whole thing disintegrated into laughter after twelve seconds. Everyone agreed this was how Galfgab would have wanted it, and nobody thought another lick about him.

Continue on to Chapter 6: Strider Makes His Move