Froduh Baggins was unsure of the task brought upon him when he inherited the One Ring from his Uncle Bilbo. Of course, being a lefty, he believed that the Shire Government should have taken the Ring in inheritance tax.
Nevertheless, he gathered together some of his companions, and being the communist morons that they were, they desired to destroy the vast wealth which the One Ring brought, so that they could go back to being poor peasants that they once were.
On the guidance of a wise (but possibly capitalist) Gandalf, Froduh and his comrades set out for Rivendell, where they were assured their socialist elvish fantasies would be played out for real.
Upon the road, they espied a black rider, clad in a black cloak, who smelled evil.
"Hello, fellow man," said Froduh, who had read about black people in the Guardian. "Come join us, we are reciting poetry and moaning about the oppressive capitalist system while smoking our fine Shire leaf."
Shaken at the confidence and mild insanity of his left-winged adversary, the black rider rode off into the night, not wishing to share in the hippy's weed or apparently anti-anti-racist views.
Saddened at the opportunity to improve the diversity of the group, Froduh sighed and fell asleep, imagining racially diverse elves dancing in a politically correct manner about his feet. He smiled.