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Brendon Urie sat down on the stone bridge that extended over a lake of sulphuric lava. Billie Joe Armstrong sat down next to him, and took out his lunch bag. Brendon followed suit.

“This is stupid,” Billie Joe said, “Why would that elfy-dude…what’s his name?”

Brendon shrugged.

“Anyways, why would Elfy-dude send us to this place just to throw in this crappy piece of costume jewelery?”

Again, Brendon shrugged, “Hey, can I have it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Billie Joe said, and handed the One Ring to Brendon, who pocketed it.

“What are you going to do with it?” Billie Joe asked, beginning to rummage through his lunch bag. He grimaced, and pulled out a tuna sandwich on Jewish rye.

A look of sympathy came across Brendon’s face, but he answered, “I’m going to sell it on eBay to some Lord of the Rings freak or something.”

“Well, that works. Hey man, have you got anything you’re willing to trade?”

“Maybe, hang on a second,” Brendon dug through his lunch bag, “All I’ve got is this haggis junk.”

“What the heck is haggis?”

“Something involving sheep intestines, I think.”

“Ew. I’ll pass.”

“Hey, wait, I’ve got something else.”

“What?”

“Oh, that’s my cookie. I want it.”

Brendon pulled out his warm, chocolate-y, melt-y, succulent, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate chip cookie.

Billie Joe’s eye followed it.

Brendon grinned, “What, you want this?”

He waved the cookie in front of Billie Joe’s nose, “You want it, boy?” he whistled at him.

A bit of saliva leaked out of the corner of Billie Joe’s mouth.

“You want it? You want it?” Brendon taunted, “Well, you can’t have it!” He put it in his mouth.

Billie Joe ripped it from between Brendon’s teeth.

“Dude! What the heck was that for?” Brendon shouted.

“It’s mine, my own, my preciousssss,” Billie Joe caressed the cookie lovingly.

“Gimme back my cookie!”

“The precioussss isss mine!”

“Dude. It’s a cookie. Not to mention, my cookie. Give it back!”

Brendon tried to grab the cookie from Billie Joe.

He got his first two fingers bitten off.

“OW!” he howled, “That was completely uncalled for!”

He did, however, have the cookie.

“THE PRECIOUSSSSS ISSSSSS MINE!” Billie Joe declared, and bore Brendon to the ground.

“GET OFF OF ME!”

“THE PRECIOUSSSS! THE PRECIOUSSSSSS!”

Billie Joe ripped the cookie from Brendon’s grip, and began prancing around on all fours.

“The preciousss! The preciousss! The preciousss!”

“Hey, Billie? You might want to stop doing that.”

“You just wants the precious for yourselfses!”

“First of all, ‘yourselfses’ is not a word, and secondly, you might want to look behind you…”

“The preciousss! The preciousss! The—AAHHHHH!!!!”

Billie Joe fell off of the bridge, and plopped into the lake of lava, sounding much like an egg sizzling in a hot frying pan.

Brendon walked to the end of the bridge, and looked over the edge. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

“My cookie…” he whimpered, “My poor, sweet, decadent cookie.”

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

A look of enlightenment lit up his face, “Oh, now I remember!”

He ran to the other end of the bridge. There, in front of him, sat a vending machine.

He pulled a pristine one-dollar-bill out of his pocket, and put it into the machine.

And out came a cookie.

He grinned mischievously.

WINNER: Billie Joe Armstrong…sort of.