Narrator: It is night in Isengard. Menacing fires burn deep from within the orc pits scattered around the ruined valley of Nan Curunir. The treacherous wizard Saruman moves about the Tower of Orthanc. Answering the call of his vile master, Saruman reaches out to a crystal-like globe on a black pedestal. It is the Palantir of Orthanc... a seeing-stone of Eldamar.

Sauron: SA-RU-MAN!
Saruman: Ello monsieur! How-a may I serve you?
Sauron: Saruman... you must attack Rohan! Send forth your massive army over the hills and valleys of the Riddermark. Take the woman Eowyn for your queen. This will be your kingdom I give to you as my foremost of allies.
Saruman: But monsieur—
Sauron: Sauron, Saruman. Sauron.
Saruman: B-b-but Sauron, zat will take-a my whole army... I will-a be defenseless here if ze—
Sauron: Listen, Saruman. I built my kingdom up from nothing. When I started here in Mordor, it was dominated by a ruddy great volcano surrounded by run-down shanty towns and festering pits. And now look at it! Comfortable accommodation for millions and festering pits so foul that any decent Orc would sell his grandmother to wallow in them. The Eldar all thought I was daft to build my fortress of Barad-dur here, but I built it all the same—just to show 'em! The Noldor attacked and destroyed it. So, I built a second one. The Numenoreans attacked and destroyed it. So, I built a third one, Dol Guldur, in a swamp in southern Mirkwood. The blasted elves attacked, burned it down, knocked it over, and what was left sank into the swamp, but the joke was on them because it was a decoy while I built Barad-dur up again... and this one is staying up!
Saruman: But—
Sauron: And that's what we've got between the two of us, Saruman... Orthanc and Barad-dur, the two strongest towers in all of Middle Earth.
Saruman: But I don't want-a any of Rohan. I'd rather—
Sauron: Rather what?!
Saruman: I'd rather... jus'... find-a ze Ring!
Sauron: Now listen, Saruman. In twenty-four hours, I want you to hurl your entire massive army at Rohan and capture the girl whose uncle owns the biggest tracts of open land west of Rhun.
Saruman: B-but I don't want-a anymore land.
Sauron: Now listen up, Sharky—
Saruman: Saruman.
Sauron: Saruman. We live in bloody desolate places. Orcs can't live on lava alone you know. You trashed Angrenost building your army. We need all the good agricultural land we can get. Think of the elephants, man! They can't eat dust and ashes!
Saruman: But—but I don't like her very much-a.
Sauron: Don't like Eowyn?! What's wrong with her?! She's beautiful. She's rich. She has great tits. She's got a lush—um— lots of lush, prime agricultural land!
Saruman: Oh, yes-a, I know... but all zat-a is irrelevant. Only ze One Ring-a matters!
Sauron: Look, you're attacking Rohan and marrying Eowyn, so you'd better get used to the idea!
Saruman: How-a 'bout I attack Rohan, but give-a Eowyn to Grima instead?
Sauron: Fine, enough already with your frog-ish whining... just do it so that Rohan is no more in a very final and legally binding sense!
Saruman: Alrighty, oh boy, It shall-a be done!