Narrator: Running on foot across the vast plains of the horse-loving kingdom of Røhän, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli spot a large group of riders bearing toward them.

Røhirrim Chorus: Giddy-up, up your horsey. Giddy-up, up your horsey.
Eomer: (singing) Aaaeeeeeeaaaaa-ah!!!
Røhirrim Chorus: Giddy-up, up your horsey.
Eomer: (singing) Aaaeeeeeeaaaaa-ah!!!
Røhirrim: (singing)
We come from the land where the north wind blows,
Where the horses run and the green grass grows,
Spears of Rohan,
Will drive outsiders from our lands...
To join the horde, singing and crying,
Meduseld, we are coming!
On we ride, with a shout of war,
We sing soprano 'cause we're saddle-sore!
Eomer: (singing) Aaaeeeeeeaaaaa-ah!!!
Røhirrim: (singing)
How huge our tracks of land, we'd like some more,
The Crimson Rohirrim are sure, we'll go down in lore,
We are the--
Aragorn: What news of the north, Riders of Rohan?
[screeeeech]
[crash]
[thud]
Eothain: Holy-- where did they come from?!

Eomer: Hold! I do apologize for being rude, but what business does a man, an elf, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?! Speak quickly now!
Aragorn: We track a band of orcs and uruk-cows that passed this way after taking two of our companions.
Eomer: Then your business here is concluded. I'm terribly sorry, but the warparty you seek was destroyed by us yesterday evening.
Aragorn: And what of the two halflings that would have been with them?!?
Eomer: The wha-- heifers did you say? Well, I suppose a couple of the uruk-cows could have been--
Aragorn: No, no... halflings. They would have appeared as children to you.
Eothain: (grumbling) Dash it all, we don't have time for this bollocks. we must press south--
Eomer: Peace Eothain!
(Eomer then speaks instructions in their native tongue)
Eomer: Bäckënsi øffënsi mein frëiden, täkensi Crimsønser Røhirrim Equestrënsen øverserin un tellømën smøkim ifënsi gøttëm!
Eothain: Då, sër gud!

Eomer: Now then, you simply must understand that, after a hard day's work, the idea of an uruk-cow barbecue was sounding quite in order.
Gimli: Heh. Yeah, I can grok that!
Eomer: Anyway, we knocked back a few pints and we all got jolly well befuddled. I remember there being a lot of singing, in particular.
Aragorn: Yes, but what has this to do with the halflings?
Eomer: This is rather awkward, but the point is that if these halflings were there, then they were either killed, [cough-eaten-cough], or somehow managed to escape into the Entwood.
Legolas: Entwood... you mean the ancient Forest of Fangorn?
Eomer: Yes, call it what you will, of course. I do feel terribly awful about all this and am willing to do what I can to make amends.
Aragorn: Please continue, I would hear your proposal.
Eomer: I will loan you our spare horses to aid your search on the very necessary condition that you then travel straight to Edoras and present yourself to Theoden King for judgement on your incursion into Rohan.
Aragorn: Agreed.
Gimli: Oy, we're so screwed!