Behind the Scenes: The Screenwriters.
DISCLAIMER: Peace, Oddie-Woddie Poo. 
Oddwen: This is all? *
gestures to an almost empty auditorium*
Nilpaurion Felagund: Uh . . . Oddie . . .
Oddwen: What happened to all the other screenwriters? You tell me only one - plus me - is all that's left?
NF: Odd . . . I've got the next part.
Oddwen: Oh, goodie!
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Treebeard: The Ents cannot hold back this storm. We must weather such things as we have always done.
Pippin: There's a storm?
Treebeard: No, Master Peregrin. It means we won't fight?
Merry: You . . . will not fight?
Treebeard: This is not our war.
Merry (frustrated): But what about me?
Ents look perplexed.
Merry: I've wanted to kill someone - or something - ever since I was a wee little kid. Now the chance comes, and you won't help me? You must help me. Please! You must do something.
Treebeard: You are crazy, Master Merry. I think you need to see a friend of mine. His name's Strate Jacquet.
Merry is put into a straitjacket, and he is struggling wildly. Pippin tries to cheer him up.
Pippin: Maybe Treebeard's right. You are crazy.
Merry (to screenwriter): You call this "cheer him up"?
Pippin: What?
Merry: Listen to me, Pip. The fires of Isengard will spread, and the woods of Tuckborough and Buckland will burn. And all that was once green and good in this world will be gone. There won't be a Shire, Pippin.
Pippin: . . . zzzsnork. Huh?
Merry: If Saruman wins, no more mushrooms.
The horrible truth registers on Pippin's face.
Pippin: OK, you tree-thingies! Listen up! Free him, or I'll eat you all!
Merry: Way to go, Pip.
The Ents reluctantly free Merry from the straitjacket.
Pippin: One more thing: We go thrash Isengard, or you get thrashed.
Comprende?
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The next part will come tomorrow, or Monday at the most.