Narrator: It is night once more in Barad-dur. The flaming eye of Sauron rests uneasy atop his black tower. The lack of any word from Saruman troubles him and his dread Nazgul Who Say "Ni" have yet to report back on what has gone amiss. Disrupting these troubling thoughts, he hears a call coming in on his Palantir.

Sauron: Hello?
Deep Voice: Hi, I'm calling for Mr. Jass. First name Hugh.
Sauron: Uh, Hugh Jass?
Deep Voice: Yes, is he there?
Sauron: (sighing) Hold on...
(Sauron's voice blares out once more throughout the land of Mordor)
Sauron: Hey, attention everyone, do I have a Hugh Jass here?!
Orcs: Haw haw heh! Oh, haw haw haw haw!
Sauron: Oh, will somebody please frickin' check to see if I have a Hugh Jass or not!
Deep Voice: There is a Hugh Jass there... he took the call! Ha haaa ha ha!
Sauron: What?!? It's you again isn't it, you little runt?! When I catch you, I'm gonna pull out your eyes and stick 'em down your pants, so you can watch my trolls kick the crap outta you, okay?! Then I'm going to use your head for a bucket, your tongue for a brush, and your brains to paint my—
[click]
Pippin: Ha ha! Oh yes! Hook, line, and sinker!
Merry: Hehe... How many times do you think he'll keep falling for this?

Pippin: Heh, I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?