Billy sat at the long breakfast table contemplating his toast and honey and wishing there was porridge. He had been wishing there was porridge for days now, but he didn’t want to cause any trouble. ‘Lord of the Rings’ was his first major movie role, and as every day went by he was getting a sense that this was going to be something bigger than any of them had bargained on. He wanted to have fun, but keep his nose clean. There were a lot of big stars around, stars who could ask for way more than a simple bowl of porridge in the morning. Anyway, there was the fine New Zealand honey to be enjoyed. This would be accompanied by Orlando’s smiling face yelling excitedly, “How cool is all of this?” as he surveyed the table of Orcs and Elfs and two solitary Wizards enjoying their morning repast.

Billy knew from his script reading, and failed attempt to read the book, that he was going to have to build a very close rapport with his character’s best friend Merry. He was comfortable and relieved that cast in that part was a little known British actor like himself. He had connected with Orlando on the flight over, sharing birthday champagnes and wondering what life in this new country of New Zealand would be like, but he got the sense that although this was Orlando’s first big film too he was destined for bigger things already. He had that air about him…or was Billy just picking up on his sister’s vibes when she had realised that the curly haired, brown eyed young man she had been eyeing up was Billy’s Elf travelling companion?

But Dom was just like Billy. He had starred in a few British TV shows, and was coming at this as a new kid on the block. That was a blessing, Billy could concentrate on developing their on and off screen bond, and facing the prospect of dealing with the other two big name Hobbits…Sean Astin and Elijah Wood. They had both grown up in the industry, and Billy wondered how he, an ex bookbinder, was going to manage acting alongside such well known stars.

As if on cue Dom arrived and pulled a chair up beside him, “Hey ho Billy Boy! How’s it hanging?” Dom slapped him on the back, sending his first mouthful of morning coffee spurting across the table onto an unimpressed and scarily large Orc. This was what Billy liked about Dom. Not his capacity to make him regurgitate coffee onto oversized stunt men, but his outgoing friendly attitude. Billy could tell from the start that they were going to get along just fine.

“Bills, there’s a piss up on tonight. Elijah’s shout. At the little pub down the road. You in?” Dom went to give him a matey thump on the back, but the Orc growled, “No you don’t, I was in makeup for five fucking hours to get these prosthetics on!” Dom laughed, and as quickly as he arrived was off, yelling, “See you there at 7.00. Oh, and on set too…in like two minutes. You’d better hurry up with that coffee now!” He cheekily added with a grin now that he was out of harm’s way of the Orc, “Oh yeah, you’ve spat half of it out already haven’t you?”

Billy walked into the pub apprehensive about the comment that the whole thing was ‘Elijah’s shout’. He hadn’t had much to do with Elijah as a person yet, and he wondered what it would be like actually socialising with him. But when Elijah turned up, his arm around Peter Jackson yelling at the top of his voice, “Drinks for everyone!” Billy knew he couldn’t be a bad bloke.

That was Elijah for the night, his arm around someone offering drinks. It was obvious he enjoyed his alcohol, and liked to share it. He also obviously enjoyed his friendships, hugging everyone who came near him, famous or no. It wasn’t long before the spread of whisky was warming Billy’s body and mind too.

“You know who isn’t here?” Dom came up and whispered in Billy’s ear. Elijah was hanging onto him, not only out of friendship, but also to steady himself. He had already drunk more than a little Hobbit should. “Wizards!” he said after a pause.

Billy looked around the sea of cast who had taken over the usually sleepy little pub. “I saw Sir Ian earlier in the night,” he said, “but yeah you’re right Dom, I’ve not seen Christopher Lee. But then of course he’s such a professional he’s probably going through lines. I know Pete’s left to do some more rewrites. Perhaps Christopher’s going through his scenes for tomorrow.” It seemed wrong to Billy to call Christopher Lee ‘Christopher’, but Billy hadn’t heard him called ‘Mr. Lee’ either.

“Lines my ass!” screamed Elijah. “He should be here. I have lines and I’m here. You have lines and you’re here,” his pointing at people he meant to name was becomingly increasingly less accurate, “I think we need to send a Fellowship patrol out to find him and bring him back. I know…. Legolas is like the scout, we’ll send Orlando. HEY ORLANDO! Come here Elf boy and find us a Wizard!”

Elijah kept shouting until Sean Bean yelled, “Elijah, can you stop the fuck yelling ‘Orlando’? He’s not going to answer you.” He pointed out that the skilful Elf scout had passed out and was lying most ungraciously under a table.

“Oh fuck! That’s just great! We have no Legolas!” Elijah shook his head in disgust, “Sam my trusty…gardener…is at home looking after a daughter with measles. If the filming were relying on this Fellowship we’d be fucked before we even started.”

“If the filming were relying on your language it’s be NC17,” quipped a homeward bound Sean Bean, “You know a few choice words for a young lad don’t you?” He thanked Elijah for the drinks, ruffled his hair as he left and shook his head at the sight of Orlando’s shorts clad legs poking out from underneath a table.

“We’ll go!” Dom suggested.

“What?” queried Billy.

“We’re the next in line in the Fellowship…well apart from all the others like Elrond and Arwen and…that Ranger dude. We are your servants Master Frodo.” Dom said valiantly,” We shall go and awaken the Wizard.”

Billy wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, he didn’t really want to go disturbing the likes of Christopher Lee, but Dom grabbed his arm insistently and dragged him off. Elijah wished them well on their journey.

The light was indeed on in Christopher Lee’s trailer. Billy could see his outline silhouetted against the window, obviously reading something (probably a script). “He’s working Dom, we shouldn’t trouble him.”

“Trouble him shmubble him. He should come and have a drink with the rest of us. Come on Bills, you’re a good aim. Throw a stone at his window, that’ll get his attention.” Dom looked around for a good sized stone, not too small, but not so large that it would break a window.

Billy was hesitant, but after many “Just one! Go on, pretty please!”s from Dom, he got up the nerve and threw.

“Fuck! What was that?” The blinds of the trailer were quickly raised, and a bewildered Christopher Lee scanned around to see where the noise had come from.

Dom covered his mouth to stop his uncontrollable giggles from being heard. “I just heard Christopher Lee say, ‘Fuck’” he blurted out, “I can’t believe it!”

Billy had to admit that single utterance had changed his sacred image of Christopher Lee for life. He was not going to be able to look at him the same way again!

Thinking the noise had probably been made by an errant bird, the Wizard went back to his lines. He had quite a pivotal scene to do tomorrow, and wanted to get it just right.

Billy and Dom had other ideas. Dom wanted to hear the Christopher Lee swear again, so gathered Billy a handful of stones in preparation for a right volley. Spurred on by the incongruity of the ‘fuck’ incident, Billy was now up for it. He threw stone after stone at the window, hoping to hear that one simple word uttered again.

But it was not to be. All they got was an enraged Christopher Lee who by some truly mystical force seemed to work out where the trouble was coming from .He screamed, “Damn Hobbits!” in the direction of the bushes they were hiding behind. A giggling Dom and Billy watched him storm across the line of trailers yelling, “Really Peter, I cannot work under these Goddamn circumstances!”

“I know what we should do now,” began Dom, his eyes alight with mischief and not ready to let go of the prank. “We go into his trailer and write ‘fuck’ all over his script…let him know what a potty mouthed old Wizard he really is.”

“I think we should let things be Dom,” Billy said, attempting to bring a voice of reason to the whole situation. But Dom was not to be stopped. He grabbed Billy’s hand and dragged him to the trailer. There on the table was the script with a conveniently placed pen beside it. It almost seemed to be begging to be defiled. Dom started reading through the Wizard’s lines, scribbling out key words and replacing them with what had quickly become his favourite expression of the day.

“Now we wait!” Dom giggled, totally amused by their shenanigans.

It took all of five minutes for Dom to become bored. Despite Billy’s protests not to disturb anything, he started to rummage through the Lee trailer.

“He must have alcohol in here somewhere,” Dom muttered, bending over and rifling through yet another cupboard.

“Dom, I don’t think we should…”

“Aaggh, here we are! Come to papa!” Dom triumphantly held up a bottle of pure malt whisky. Billy’s stopped in his tracks. Now this was something he couldn’t refuse.

“I’ll find some glasses!” he said, beginning his own reconnaissance effort. He was successful, but not before he had knocked one of the glasses to the floor. The shatter as it fell to the ground nearly knocked some sense into him, and he just about suggested they stop and go back to the pub. But Dom waved the whisky bottle in his face, and he was at its mercy.

“We’ll clean that mess up later,” said Dom, waving nonchalantly at the shards of glass littering the trailer floor, “First of all though, I’d like to propose a toast to the word ‘Fuck’, as made famous by the much revered and respected Mr. Christopher Lee.” He clinked his glass against Billy’s and they took a sip from their glasses simultaneously.

“’Fuck’ is right Dom! That is the best fucking whisky I have ever tasted.” Billy took a longer gulp this time, savouring a mouthful of whisky the likes he had never experienced, “Aagh Dom, I’m in heaven.”

“Well, drink up my friend,” said Dom, being very generous with his stolen goods and pouring Billy an even larger glass full.

It wasn’t long before the two had made their way through a fair amount of Christopher Lee’s prized bottle of pure malt.

“You know Billy, it’s a shame that as you get more and more pissed the taste of such a fine drop starts to diminish. This could be el cheapo cask wine to me the way I am now!” Dom surveyed his glass sadly, then shrugged and poured himself another drink. “I’m sorry to have abused you Mr. Whisky,” he apologised, then took another drink.

“Oh no Dom, it stays the same for me. Even though I think I’m a slight bit tiddly, I can still taste the true magnificancy, I mean magnificency, I mean magnificence that is a good malt scotch.” Billy went to stand up and make a toast to said scotch, but nearly fell over. He decided to remain seated for his dedication.

“Lucky bastard! It doesn’t taste at all like it did before. It’s just lost it for me,” Dom complained.

“You need to have my mouth!” said Billy wisely, pointing to his face. “A true whisky mouth!”

“Can I?” asked Dom.

“What?” asked Billy after taking another sip.

“Have your mouth?” Dom replied.

“How?” Billy was confused. He had no idea what Dom was talking about.

“You take a mouthful of whisky, then I drink if from your mouth. That way you can share your expert whisky mouth with your best friend Dommy!” Dom explained.

“Okay,” Billy agreed hesitantly. He was so drunk anything seemed to make sense to him, even though when he tried to give it some deeper thought through the alcoholic haze it didn’t.

“You take a mouthful,” Dom said.

“Okay,” said Billy, dutifully taking a mouthful of whisky.

“Now hold it until I get over there,” he said getting up and making a wobbly progress over to Billy.

Dom got his mouth as close to Billy’s as he could then said, “Now.”

Billy let the whisky pour from his mouth. Very little of it was exchanged to Dom, most of it ended up on the couch or Billy’s shirt.

“Nup, that didn’t work!” complained Dom. “What little bit I did get just tasted normal. Perhaps it’s your taste buds Billy. Perhaps I really need to get in there and taste it from your viewpoint.”

“You mean, like a whisky snog?” Billy said, his voice rising.

“Not so much a snog as a…well yeah, all right, a snog. If I snog you right you after you’ve had a mouthful of whisky then I should be able to taste it from your viewpoint. You’d be helping a friend.”

“All right,” said Billy, even more doubtful of this idea. But he did want to help his friend Dommy, so took a mouthful and swallowed, “There you go!”

Dom moved in, his tongue poking out of his mouth like radar. Billy nearly backed away at the site, but mindful that he was trying to help a friend held his ground and allowed Dom’s tongue entry. Once in, Dom’s tongue did a tour of duty of Billy’s mouth, what was becoming a very full tour of duty before Billy broke off to get air.

“Oh wow! That was amazing!” sighed Dom.

Billy was for once speechless. The last time someone had said that to him after a snog was in primary school, and she was probably very easily impressed.

“Is that what you taste every time you drink that stuff?” Dom exclaimed.

“Yeah,” said Billy innocently.

“Oh fuck! You have it made Billy Boy! You lucky thing! It didn’t even taste that good when I was sober and could taste!” Dom enthused. “You wouldn’t let me give it another go would you?”

“Okay,” Billy said, “If it’s that good for you.”

He started the same ritual. This time Dom was more gracious with his descent, savouring Billy’s lips and pulling away to look him in the eye,” Oh my God! Your lips are like whisky dessert!” His mouth returned to Billy’s, fighting the urge just to keep tasting their sweetness, and pressing past to enter fully. His tongue danced around Billy’s mouth, taking in as much as he could greedily.

“Fuck that’s good!” he finally pulled away, his lips flushed and pink. “I could do that all night!”

Billy really wished he wouldn’t. He had discovered something about his new friend he didn’t think he’d get to know from personal experience. He was a great kisser, and Billy was only thankful the rest of his body hadn’t been close enough to feel his guiltily growing erection.

“One more go please…?” begged Dom.

Billy shook his head. This was not something he wanted Dom, or the other cast members to know about him…that he could get just as excited kissing a man as a woman. Even that sensibility could fight its way through the alcohol haze.

“But I know you want to…” Dom looked cheekily at Billy’s crotch. He moved closer, his hand reaching down to fondle Billy through his jeans. “Oh yeah Mr. Play It Straight. I know more about you than you think. You don’t kiss a bloke like that if you totally swing one way. Come on Billy you have to admit, this drinking game is more fun than Elijah’s ‘guess who’s Hobbit feet are going to come off first today’. Dom picked up the glass and handed it to Billy in encouragement.

It was a shocked, not disgruntled Christopher Lee followed by an ever placating Peter Jackson who walked into the sight of two Hobbits groping each other on Christopher Lee’s bed. Nothing was ever said about the incident, but Billy quickly regained his respect for the renowned actor, and Dom’s last word was “Fuck!” as he looked up from Billy’s crotch to see his boss and right hand man witnessing him licking the finest malt whisky off his fellow Hobbit’s cock.

Slashababy 2004 Stories