Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, etc. I am only borrowing his characters for this fanfiction and am making absolutely no profit whatsoever from them.

Gollum

“Precious, precious, precious!” Gollum cried exuberantly, as he held the Ring aloft to admire it. It still clung to Frodo's savaged finger.

“My Precious! O my Precious!”

Gollum danced at the edge of the burning chasm with wild abandon. The lake below responded with another great glare and light reflected prettily off the Ring, sending him into further paroxysms of delight.

So beautiful! So Precious! Oh, how he loved it!

But he danced a step too far: seconds after reclaiming it, Gollum tottered on the verge of the chasm, wavered, then – shrieking - he and his Precious plummeted to their doom.

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Author's Note: Some text and all of Gollum's dialogue (such as it is) taken from The Lord of The Rings: The Return of The King, Book 6, Chapter 3: Mount Doom.