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-- If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!? (http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?threadid=138905)
If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!?
....What would it look like?
Ernest Hemingway
It was very late and everyone had left the hall except an old man who sat in the shadows the leaves of the old Mallorn made against the moonlight. The two elves inside the hall knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he usually was quiet and kept to himself they knew that if he became too drunk he would start setting things on fire, so they kept watch on him.
“He’s drunk,” one elf said.
“What do you care?”
“He’s muttering about the secret fire.”
“Leave him alone. He used to carry a ring.”
“He’ll stay all night. He should never have been rebodied.”
The old man rapped on the table with his goblet. The younger elf went over to him.
“What do you want?”
The old man looked at him. “Another miruvor.”
“You’ll be drunk,” the elf said. The old man looked at him. The elf went away.
“Look at his bushy eyebrows,” he said to his colleague. “There is nothing as nasty as an old Man. He’ll stay all night and I’ll never get any sleep.”
The elf took the bottle of miruvor from the counter inside the hall and marched to the old man’s table. He poured the goblet full.
“You should never have been rebodied,” he said to the old man.
Mark Twain
NOTICE:
Persons attempting to resolve the question of Balrog wings by means of this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to define the nature of Tom Bombadil will be banished; persons attempting to find allegory in it will be shot.
BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR,
Per G.G., Chief of Ordnance.
FOREWORD:
In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Quenya Elvish dialect; the extremest form of the Rhovanion dialect; the ordinary Sindarin dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech.
I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding.
THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER 1
You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Red Book of Westmarch; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Frodo Baggins and his Uncle Bilbo, and they told the truth, mainly. There was things which they stretched, but mostly they told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was the Lady Galadriel, or Elrond, or maybe Gandalf. The Lady Galadriel – the Lady of Lothlorien, she is – and Elrond, and the wizard Gandalf is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.
Heh, anybody have any others?
If I were to tell you the true story behind the unmaking of that ring...that ring!...you would think me mad. Horrors such as are scribed in ancient tomes of eldritch evil cannot compare to the terror...the cruel, cold, braincrushing terror!...that we felt in the lair of that foul spirit which raimed itself in arachnid form, that vile scavenger, that horrid arcane leech lingering at the border's of Sauron's Black Land...
-The Ring-Journal of an Anonymous Hobbit, by H.P. Lovecraft
If it was written by Robert Jordan it would be 10 books long.
::coughhackcough::
LOTR by Mickey Spillane:
I was sitting by the fire, puffing on a pipe, still nursing a hangover from the ale-fest the night before, when HE walked in.
He had a long white beard, a magical staff, and legs that youd like to eat on toast.
"Are you Frodo Baggins," he intoned.
"I might be," I said. "Who's asking?"
"My name is Gandalf, Mr. Baggins. And I need your help."
I looked him over. "Lots of people need my help. What makes YOU special?"
"Well, Mr. Baggins... there is a certain piece of jewelry. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could prove... troublesome. I need someone to take this ring to Mount Doom, where it can be destroyed."
I stuck some more weed in my pipe, and said, "Look, doll, let's get one thing straight- you can't come into my hole, tell me a fairy-tale about a magic ring, bat those pretty eyelids, and have me fall at your feet. I stick my neck out for nobody."
quote:
Originally posted by Hello Again
If it was written by Robert Jordan it would be 10 books long.
::coughhackcough::
Eowyn felt her heart flutter when she saw him. His raven hair flew in the breeze off the plain, and his piercing eyes caught her gaze as if by magic. He bore a kingly attitude; surely he was a prince. Her mind turned to forbidden things, things which would be forbidden to the King's niece, but surely allowed for a free shieldmaiden. She knew that she was made to love this ranger.
-Mark of the King, Danielle Steele
Smeagol writhed in corruption, his lifelong attempts to collectivize the Hobbit economy had twisted his soul and body and brought ruin to the Shire. "Precious," he muttered. "Precious colective good giving according to need." He shuddered at the thought of the unbroken individual standing proudly over a conquered plain with the Ring, and felt jealous that the wholesome power could not be his.
-Lord of the Rings, by Ayn Rand.
"Gandalf, Gandalf! Take the ring!
I am too small to carry this thing!"
"I can not, will not hold the One.
You have a slim chance, but I have none.
I will not take it on a boat,
I will not take it across a moat.
I cannot take it under Moria,
that's one thing I can't do for ya.
I would not bring it into Mordor,
I would not make it to the border."
-excerpt from Dr. Suess's FOTR.
LotR by Terry Brooks
Never gets written.
No source material.
Ah, I see we are off to a great start! Keep them coming...
Ray Bradbury
In which Gandalf gains a new perspective on his heretofore unexamined mission:
It was a pleasure to burn.
It was a special pleasure to see Hobbits eaten, to see them blackened and changed. With the wooden staff in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous pitch upon the Shire, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his pointed hat on his wizened head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he mumbled a Word of Command and the Great Smials jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a haunch of mutton on a spit in the furnace, while the flapping, ridiculous Hobbits died on the porch and lawn of the great Hobbit-hole. While the Hobbits went up in greasy, sparkling whirls that blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.
Gandalf grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame. Fools of Tooks! he thought with an inward chuckle, as the smell of burnt foot-hair filled his nostrils, as welcome as the smell of a fresh-baked apple pie cooling on the sill.
He knew that when he returned to Lothlórien, he might wink at himself, a minstrel man, burnt-corked, in the Mirror of Galadriel. Later, going to sleep, he would feel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles, in the dark. It never went away, that smile, it never ever went away, as long as he remembered.
What a great thread idea. I only wish I knew this scene to participate. Great work so far stylistically though - Kudos to all.
The Lord of the Rings
or The Land of Middle-earth
by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan
SCENE. -- Front yard of Bag End in Hobbiton, the Shire. Various hobbits discovered standing and sitting in various attitudes suggested by Rankin-Bass films and trippy illustrations from the 1970s.
CHORUS OF HOBBITS.
If you want to know who we are,
We are gentlemen of the Shire;
In many an inn and bar,
By many an alehouse fire,
We dine on six meals a day;
Our attitude's bright and gay;
But we don't mean it that way, oh!
If you think we are cutesy-poo,
Like an Ewok or Jar-Jar Binks,
You don't know what we do:
When we don't smokes, we drinks!
Our dwelling is Hobbiton;
We only stand three foot one;
We use evil rings for fun, oh, oh!
We use evil rings for fun!
If you want to know who we are,
We are gentlemen of the Shire;
In inn and bar, by alehouse fire;
In many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many a bar, oh, oh, oh, oh!
In inn and bar, by alehouse fire!
Enter Gandalf in great excitement. He carries a pack of fireworks on his back and a staff in his hand.
RECIT. -- GANDALF
Gentlemen, I pray you tell me
Where a gentle hobbit dwelleth, named Frodo,
The ward of Bilbo?
In pity speak, oh speak, I pray you!
TED SANDYMAN. Why, who are you who ask this question?
GANDALF. Come gather round me, and I'll tell you!
SONG and CHORUS -- GANDALF.
A wand'ring wizard I,
A thing of spells and magic,
Of stories dark and tragic,
Of counsel I'll prophesy...
That's where inspiration flagged. Although I could post the touching "Departure from Rivendell" scene...
LOTR by “Cesil”
Dear Cesil: Is it true that Frodo lost the ring to Gollum? We were arguing about it during a study session at the local brewery, when these guys dressed like orcs let it slip that Frodo bit his own finger off, and pushed Gollum in Mount Doom so there was no evidence. Is Frodo the next Dark Lord? Anxious in Hobbiton
Dear Anxious,
You think if I knew the whereabouts of the ring I’d tell a puling college student? There have been crackpot doom theories (get it?) about the ring ever since it was lost in the last age. It’s been a magnet for PBS loons when anyone disappears in a birthday party or a black rider is seen astride a flying saucer.
Let’s set the record straight with a few facts: After Frodo was exhumed in the Grey Havens following the suspicious circumstances of his “fading,” particular attention was paid to the manner in which his finger had been severed. It was the opinions of “experts” that the tooth scrapes on the joint were consistent with teeth like Gollum’s--worn by gnawing and grinding on bones. However the elves, having ignored the valuable lessons on interrogation taught by the Numenoreans, failed to follow up with questions regarding similar markings on various of Frodo’s toes. Hence the persisting rumors.
No doubt you’re hoping that the ring was finally put to bed in the flames of Mordor--lo those many years ago--but that’s not certain. There are unsubstantiated rumors that the nursery rhyme from the Middle Ages “Ring around the Rosie” is about the destruction caused by Sam Gamgee’s wife Rosie when entrusted with care of the ring while Sam was off fighting wiccans and environmentalists who had risen in the ruins of the witch kingdom Angmar.
Wagner’s famous “Ring Cycle” is held by certain cultists to be a covert reference to the growing power of the one ring--soon to be passed to the Kaiser, and subsequently Adolf Hitler. Music lovers claim the evil influence of Isildur’s Bane pervades Wagner’s music, but between you and me, Anxious, it doesn’t take much miscalculation to make opera sound like crud.
Finally, those whacky New Age pranksters claim that the metal from the one ring flowed into the magma of Mount Doom, and is now present in minute quantities in every volcanic eruption—thereby gradually turning the whole of humankind into dark lords. This goes a long way toward explaining prime time TV.
But in conclusion we’ll have to admit that unless it’s hidden in a yet another unfound Nazi stash, part of the crown jewels, or that talisman the Dalai Lama keeps around his neck, the one ring of power will just remain a happy memory.
-- CESIL
LoTR written by *shudder* Piers Anthony.
Forget it, that's for stronger stomachs than mine.
a la "Doc" Smith
"QX, Sam!" Cried Frodo. "That zwilnik Gollum had just enough jets to cut me free from that blasted ring!"
Meanwhile Sam's steely gaze followed the form of Gollum into the cracks of doom. The kinetic energy of its wretched body's translation into one with the magma became heat. Heat added to heat. It piled up ragingly, frantically, equilibrating, then turning hotter. Hotter! HOTTER! "By Ulmo's carballoy bowels, ringman Frodo! We gotta get to clear ether!"
"Udun's jingling bells, Sam! Its covered. I phialed a message to Galadriel to alert our boys in Aeries we'd be needing them! They'll be here in 3.3 minutes, Eriador standard time."
And as the Grand Fleet of the Eagle Patrol blasted away from Mordor airspace with the two second-stage ringmen firmly in their grip, Frodo wondered when he would next be called upon to pull the chestnuts of the Valar out of the fire again.
By Neal Stephenson (heavily borrowed, and eerily appropriate)
Frodo, the Deliverator, belongs to an elite order, a Fellowship of nine members only. He's got esprit up to here. Right now, he is preparing to carry out his only mission that matters. His armor is silver like the light of the full moon, jangling only slightly with its decorative gems. An arrow will bounce off its dwarvenmesh weave like a hammer off an anvil, but excess perspiration wafts through it like the winds over the charred plains of Gorgoroth. All the arrows of all the hunters in the world couldn't cut it against this one.
When they gave him the job, they gave him a sword. The Deliverator never looks for trouble, but some Orc might come after him anyway---might want his armor, or his cargo. The sword is tiny, aero-styled, lightweight, the kind of sword a Hobbit would carry; it cuts quickly into load-bearing beams without visible effort, and when you get done using it around evil, you have to sheathe it, because it glows in the dark.
The King of the Nazgul (KotN) fingered the safety buckle that secured the shortsword in it's scabbard. It was modeled after the Gladius design, making it wholly inadequate for going up against Elven armour, but it was perfectly suited for being jammed in the collarbone of a Hobbit 'merc, without calling too much attention to it's owner. His XO, "Camel" Khamul had used a similar weapon in numerous CoIN missions in North Gondor, where he had been sent to disrupt "Elrond's" supply fellowships sneaking down the Is-ild-ur trail.
The KotN smiled, even without a head. This mission was almost going to be a mead-run. Taking out a squad of sleeping halflings was going to be easier than slaying Wyvyrns sitting on a tarmac...
-Hunt for the Ring, Tom Clancy
LOL! Great stuff guys!
partly_warmer: LotR by Cecil!? Hehe, that was good!
A Lost Short Story by J.R.R. Tolkien
The chicken, sunlight coruscating off its radiant yellow-white coat of feathers, approached the dark, sullen asphalt road and scrutinized it intently with its obsidian-black eyes. Every detail of the thoroughfare leapt into blinding focus: the rough texture of the surface, over which countless tires had worked their relentless tread through the ages; the innumerable fragments of stone embedded within the lugubrious mass, perhaps quarried from the great pits where the Sons of Man labored not far from here; the dull black asphalt itself, exuding those waves of heat which distort the sight and bring weakness to the body; the other attributes of the great highway too numerous to give name. And then it crossed it.
Ringlord
Frodo looked blankly at the garden. "Sam, is there a reason you pulled up all the flowers?"
"Oh yes sir, Mr. Frodo, sir. Cause a them wassits, the bugs gottem. Aye. Yessir."
Frodo turned his questioning stare back to Sam, "And I'm sure this has nothign to do with the fact that Farmer Maggot has been buying them for ten-pence a dozen, either?
"Errrr....Oh no, not a bit of it, Mr. Frodo."
* * *
About that time, the visiting Archprocurer of Old and Mostly Unwanted Documents to Stick on a Dark Shelf in the Library, Gandalf of the More-or-less-seen tower of Isenguard showed up at the Inn of the Prancing Pony. The rough and tumble Eastern men eyed him supiciously. WHich was not unusual, they eyed everyone suspiciously. Including themselves, when they were about a mirror. "Hello there, Barliman. Could you get me a pot of Ale? On my credit, if you please."
"You've been running up a good tab lately, Mr. Gandalf, sir. You sure you're good for it?"
Oh, of course, Butterbur. 'Sides, the same law goes all down to Mordor. The night watch'd have my hide if I tried to cheat you. And its not like I expect some horrible fiend from beyond the pale of mortal ken to fight me in a gigantic duel above an ancient Dwarven City, leading to both our deaths, after all.
Barliman stared at Gandalf. "Errr... that wouldn't be a Balrog you're a speakin' of, right?
"Exactly sir. I cannot possibly be speaking of a Balrog since they don't exist. Hence I must be good for my debt. Haha."
~Terry Pratchet, though he would have done a much better job than I, surely.
LotR Z
"This foe is beyond any of you... his power Level has reached at least 30,000 after fighting every Dwarf in Moria. Ki Fhy to the gate Aragorn, you must lead them on!" The muscles beneath Gandalf'sGrey Cloak strained in anticipation of the coming battle.
Soon after, when they were nearly at the gate, the Balrog launched a surprise Ki attack, knocking down Borrmir and stunning Blazing Fist Gimli.
Gandfalf turned to face him. "Fool!" said he, I don't have time for this nonsense... "Pure Flame of Arnor Shield Wall Strike!" The massive energy wall sstreaked off towards the Balrog, who was knocked flying... though no-one was sure whether or not he had wings.
"Raaaaauuuugggg! Gandalf, I have not shown you my true power!
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...
five minutes later
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaa!
Now I am a Super Balrog 2!!!!! My power level has gone up to 3 million!"
Gandalf just smirked. "I probably shoud have told you, after you left the service of Eru, we figured out a few new tricks. Here's a good one:
Kaaaaaaaaaa------Meeeeeeee------Haaaaaaqa-----Meeeeee----
-The Balrog laughed in anticipation of Gndalf's feeble attack-
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The resulting explosion threw the Balrog back agaoinst the walls of Moria. His expression turned to one of complete disbelief. "Urrrghhh.... Ahhh... Ugghhhhh.... That's...not possible...."
The rest of the Fellowship of the Z Ring stared, twitching slightly and grunting in awe at Gandalf!
Gandalf grinned, "another one of those tricks I learned... I learned how to Hide my POWER level!"
Somebody write a Gene Roddenberry version. I can't get up the willpower to subject myself to the Horror.
My name is Baggins. Frodo Baggins. 00Hobbit, license to quest.
Oh Frodo! Last night was magnificient! Stay with me here in Lothlorien forever.
I cahn't Galadriel. The Grey Wizard, G, gave me an assignment to infiltrate Mordor, & destroy the One Ring.
I know, and when I take the Ring from your corpse, I shall rule in glory, and all shall love me and despair. Last night was Heaven, Mr. Baggins. Now go there.
BANG-BANG-BANG!
ARRRGH!
Galadriel, a Double Agent. Well, well, well. Too bad. But, I always preferred my elves shaken, not stirred. And certainly not shot.
No. not e.e. cummings. Guess again. 
__________________
"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down..."--L. Borgia
Of the great War of the Ring, and the tast
Of that Forbidden power, the long and
Arduous trek, thru’ fiery, blasted plains
With faithful Hobbits and treacherous beasts
To Chaos’ edge, and there to cast the One
To endless fire and eternal death:
Sing Heav’nly Muse, that in Rivendell did’st
First teach of the Rings of Power forgéd,
In the beginning how the Dark Lord Sauron
Brought into the world from fiery depths
Of Doom this ring of gold, pouréd into’t
His Malice and his Evil; I now
Invoke thy Aid to my Adventrous song
That struggle as it might to take to th’air
Though will I drag from bottomless perdition
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime
And justifie the ways of men to Elves.
LotR, by John Milton
__________________
When wealth is shared, you have less wealth. Knowledge is different. When knowledge is shared, there is just more knowledge.
Dr Jonathan Sachs
_______________________
If you stand or if you fall
Just let them know you gave your all
Worry about it later.
Aztec Camera, 'Good Morning Britain'
The Lord of the Rings
Starring Humphrey Bogart and Marlene Dietreich
Directed by Howard Hawks
http://ringil.cis.ksu.edu/Tolkien/Movie/lotr.mov
OMG, Fingolfin, that's AWESOME!
And now, LoTR, by an anonymous japanese poet:
Ring of great evil
Small one casts it into flame
Bringing rise of Men
quote:
Originally posted by Sublight
LoTR written by *shudder* Piers Anthony.
Forget it, that's for stronger stomachs than mine.
o/` Wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraith-eree,
A Nazgul's as nasty as nasty can be.
Wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraith-eroo,
your luck will run out when I'm looking for you.
So give me the Ring, or you're Nazgul, too! o/`
o/` Just a spoonful of lembas helps the athelas go down,
the athelas go down,
the athelas go down.
Just a spoonful of lembas
helps the athelas go down
in a most delightful way. o/`
o/` Feed the orcs, tuppence a bag,
tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag. o/`
o/` Oooh...taurelilomeatumbalemornatumbaletaurealomeanor,
if you say it too slow then you won't make it to dinner.
Unless you've got some time on hand don't say I didn't warn ya.
taurelilomeatumbalemornatumbaletaurealomeanor. o/`
-excerpts from Merry Poppins, P.L. Travers & Walt Disney.
Someone right one in lawyerese
err, I mean write, cough cough.
People were always asking me, did I know Gollum.
"AAAIEEE!"
With a crazed and deformed Stoor clenching his jaw on your finger, you only speak in vowels.
With my finger, I can feel the half-chewed fish stuck behind his tongue. I totally forgot about the whole Ring destruction thing for a second and I wondered how clean his teeth were.
The cave we're standing in won't be here in three minutes. You take an ancient evil Ring of Power and add a 98-percent concentration of flaming lava. Explosion. I know this because Sauron knows this.
This is our world now. Two minutes.
Two minutes to go and I'm wondering how I got here...
Fade to a support group: "Remaining Hobbits Together."
--Openning of Chuck Pahlaniuk's LoTR
LotR by George Orwell:
"I cannot read the fiery writing," said Frodo.
"There are few who can," replied Gandalf. "It is the language of Mordor, which I will not speak here. Translated into the common tongue, it reads:
'All rings of power are equal,
But some rings of power are more equal than others.'"
LotR by Dave Barry:
At the end of the Council of Elrond, everyone concluded that 'Shards of Narsil' would be a great name for a band.
LotR by Matt Groening:
Frodo suddenly reappeared, bleeding from the hand.
Gollum triumphantly cried, "Hmmmm...hobbit finger with ring of power garnish."
But as he danced in victory, Gollum slipped and fell into the pit of fire. The Cracks of Doom echoed with his last despairing cry of "D'oh!"
We were 20 steps from the exit when the giant flaming Balrons first appeared over our heads. These weren't your normal giant flaming Balrons but some sort of interdimensional Maia that would sit and spin in mid air before dissolving before your very eyes and sneaking up behind you. Gandalf had the pipe and I had the ring which, so far, I had been able to resist trading to the local drug lords for another package of white. Gandalf was shouting random Macrohydration spells while simultaneously trying to not trip over his robes and fall face first into the local pools of goo. Legolas took another drink from his flask and, once again, began explaining how elves were different than humans and much, much mellower.
- Hunter S. Thompson
Bosda: Ian Fleming?
quote:
Originally posted by smiling bandit
Somebody write a Gene Roddenberry version. I can't get up the willpower to subject myself to the Horror.
Legolas allowed himself the luxury of allowing himself the luxury of a stray thought. What new treachery is this? he mused at the form coming slowly toward them through the world-haze. He reached out with senses sharpened by years of Elvish training. It looks like ... no! That cannot be! It must be a vision. Nazgul spies must have poisoned my lembas.
But the self within himself knew that his lembas was uncorrupted, that the vision that he saw now was not merely of a possible future but of an inevitable future. Yet still it strode closer, and closer, its pointed white hat contrasting sharply with the dull oceans of unbroken forestland and mountainrock behind it.
Galdalf lives!
"I am no longer Gandalf the Grey," the wizard intoned, his white stillrobes glistening in the day's heat. "Through the Trial of the Balrog I came close to death, but now the sleeper has awakened! I shall now be called ... Gandalf-Muad'Dib, the Mithrandir, the Lisan Al'Maia!"
-- from Ring Messiah, by Frank Herbert
Someone really ought to report this thread to threadspotting!
The Dr. Suess version is perfect. The Milton is also eerily excellent. James Joyce, anyone?
The trouble with writing an epic, I find, is knowing just where to begin. So here I am, quill and parchment at the ready, a full bowl of pipeweed and, dash it, have great difficulty in beginning! That's the trouble with epics, as I suspect old Treebeard himself would say, and wasn't he a one for insisting that every story begin at the very beginning - of time, that is, and it takes all one's memories of school training to be polite to the old boy when you're rushing to catch an Eagle.
I brought this up with Gandalf when he dropped by yesterday. "Gandalf", I said, "Do you remember that old ROP we dropped into the crack of Mount Doom?" He did, of course. It was one of those rectangular - no, I mean rhetorical - questions. How could one forget? It was a tale to freeze thy blood, to make one's hair stand on end like quills upon the fretful porpentine - though I've never understood why one says porpentine when you mean porcupine. Something to do with elves, no doubt. I had been thinking of making a start by putting one of the elven marching songs on the title page, but all I can remember os 'Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong, I hurry along', which would never do. Elrond would never approve.
So Gandalf applied himself to the task at hand - and that's a sight to see that makes strong men gasp and the ladies swoon. You could see the blood whizzing through that magnificent brain of his, chock full of all that health food he grazes on with Tom Bombadil. When there's a problem to be solved, just slip a few nuts and berries to old Gandalf and stand back, I say. Frightening, really.
So after a good think, Gandalf suggested Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday, and I knew right away I held the winning ticket, cash for life with no taxation. "Perfect" I told him. "That's just precisely where I'll set the starting post. You have hit the n. right on the h."
P. G. Wodehouse
__________________
James I. Hymas
jiHymas@himivest.com
I'd do LotR by Stephen Donaldson, but I can't decide who Frodo would rape.
On this particular evening, something changed hands quietly in the back of a hobbit-hole in the Shire many miles from the dark realm of Mordor. A small, metallic something. Something which could be accurately described as a circular loop of shining metal.
The land of Middle Earth was almost oblivious to the change of ownership, which was wonderful for the two parties concerned. The trade went unnoticed among the citizens of Rivendell, it escaped the Nazgul completely, and even the dark lord himself continued straight on with his day without noticing. This was a pity for him, because it was exactly the thing he had been searching for all these years.
-- from The Mostly Harmless Ring of Power, by Douglas Adams
In summer, the scorching sun above Middle-earth sears the land. Perched high on the dome of the sky, it bakes everything down, forcing the Hobbits, the Elves and the men to do their work quickly and retreat to their homes, staying in the cool shade while the orb of light attacks them from overhead. During the winter, on the other hand, the sun only climbs above the horizon for a few hours each day, and then dips back and plunges the world into darkness. The snow drives downward, the winds howl, and everyone, men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and Orcs, can feel the chill penetrating to their bones.
Frodo had set out from his home in the Shire, hoping for a chance to see the real Middle-earth. While his official purpose for the journey was to destroy a magic ring in the fires of Mount Doom, he had really accepted the invitation to join the quest because he viewed it as an opportunity to experience the genuine outside world. He had heard stories, of course, about how Hobbits who left the Shire, although naïve and ambitious at first, would eventually turn against the other cultures with scorn, and would long for their cozy hobbit-holes, their elaborate tea parties, their pipes of tobacco before second breakfreast. “Is it true what they say about hobbits who journey eastward, that we all eventually lose the spirit of adventure and just want to return to our cozy homes after a few months,” he asked Gandalf once as they sat around the campfire, but the wizard declined to provide a direct answer.
Regardless, he had remained inquisitive during the flight from the Nazgul and the stay at Rivendell. But as each day passed and the winter grew colder and more ominous, the dark bulks of the Misty Mountains loomed on the horizon up ahead. Their peaks seeming to be lost in the cloud cover, the mountains dwarfed everything, blotted out everything. Their massive bulks weighed on the members of the Fellowship, and the swirling snow seemed to wrap around them, cutting off and suffocating them. There, on the slopes of the Caradhras, Frodo suddenly felt small and insignificant, as if nothing that a little Hobbit could achieve would ever amount to anything more than that, snowflakes whirling in a storm.
from A Passage to Mordor, by E. M. Forster
I don't have the talent to write it, but if I did, it would be by Homer.
Thomas Hardy
--Insert reams of thick prose and endless paragraphs here---
And Frodo never got in to Christminster and all his children died in difficult circumstances.
Merrin
I'd like to see a J.D. Salinger version of LotR. Or Graham Greene's. Or Faulkner's. Or Elmore Leonard's.
Charles Dickens, paid by the word, A Tale of Two Towers
IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
Not a word changed.
quote:
Originally posted by Joe_Cool
I don't have the talent to write it, but if I did, it would be by Homer.
See Frodo run,
Run Frodo run.
See Sauron search,
Gollum and Frodo are playing,
Oops, Gollum dropped the ring in Mount Doom.
Now Sauron will have to find another ring.
-- See Frodo Run
Frodo crept down the stairs of the of the castle, his invisible cloak sweeping around his legs. He simply had to get the ring into Professor Saurons office without attracting attention. The castle was quite and he made his way without difficulty. A faint light was glowing from under the Professors door but nobody appeared to be in the office. Sneaking in quietly, he saw the volcano on the ledge bubbling quietly. He was just about to throw this ring into the fiery chasm when the door burst open and the Professor strode in. Not having time to think, Frodo Potter froze on the spot, grateful for being invisible.
Professor Sauron wasn't the only person who entered the room however. A massive hulking glowing monster had also ambled in alongside him and they were now deep in a conversation. Frodo froze, although he had never met one of those before, he had heard about it enough times to know that the thing standing in front of him was a Balrog!
"I want you to send a message to Professor Saruman, Tell him that I am prepared to join forces so that we can both live our lives without worrying about prying eyes. Fly swiftly for I need the message soon"
"But I dont have no wings" said the Balrog dumbly
"Use a broomstick you fool" snarled professor Sauron and swiftly left the classroom.
So it was true thought Frodo Potter, Sauron wan't to get rid of him and he was willing to enlist the help of Saruman to do it. He had to tell his friends Pippin and Merrione, they would know what to do.
"striding out of the classroom as fast as he could, he turned down a corridor without looking and a giant flash of green light blinded him. The scar on his forehead was now excruciating with pain. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the figure of Elrond laughing madly.
Frodo gradually became aware that he was now lying in a bed. Trying to get up, he heard a gently voice in his ear.
"Ah, Frodo, it seems we are up and about already", it was the gentle voice of Headmaster Gandalf.
"I suppose you want to know what happened last night, It turns out that your last Defense against Dark Arts teacher wasn't really Elrond at all but was actually Lord Melkor's minion, Smeagol. You see, nobody actually knew what Elrond looked like before he came to HobbitWarts becuase he kept to himself. When Smeagol arrived, we all assumed it was Elrond. Quite unfortunate really."
"But I saw Professor Sauron with that Balrog, he was talking about removing those prying eyes"
"Yes, Sauron was one of the first suspect something about Smeagol, it was all those potions full of rotten fish that gave it away he said. He knew he couldn't tackle Smeagol alone so he enlisted the help of Saruman. He was the one who found you unconcious"
"You mean... Sauron is innocent?" stammered Frodo
"Yes you fool of a Took! I've been trying to tell you that for the last 4 years" snapped Gandalf rather angrily "Now get some rest so we can send you home to your awful Uncle Bilbo"
-- Frodo Baggins and the One Ring by JK Rowling ("Frodo Baggins and the Knarliest Ring" in the USA)
Irvine Welsh:
Gandalf hud jest telt us aboot the ring an aw, an ay was feeling a bit queasy like, so ay started cooking up. Ay needed it an all, ye ken? -Can ye dae me a hit too, says Gandalf.
---
By now ah'm feelin all barry likes, and me and Gandalf ur discussin the fitba, which was nae a gud idea since ah'm a Hibs supporter and Gandalf's Herts. -Ye fuckin Proddy wanker he shouts at me and I start tae clobber him, a good clean fight n aw, ye ken, until he pulls oot a blade.
Ah nivir seen th' cunt so pissed in ehs puff, but ay dinna have tae put oop wi this shite. Ay swear ah'll murder th' bastard, ring or nae ring, land ay Mordor or nae land ay Mordor...
Because I'm.. legally required to submit a version of Chuck Palahniuk's "Lord of Rings" modeled more closely to the book than gonzoron's more movie-like offering: (?)
"Frodo gets me a job as a waiter, after that Mr. Frodo's pushing Sting in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die. For a long time, though, Frodo and I were best friends. People are always asking me, did I know about Frodo Baggins.
The tip of the sword just touched the back of my throat, Frodo says, "We really won't die."
With my tongue I can feel the fuller forged into the bottom of the blade. Most of the weight of a sword is in the middle, a mass increasing as the blade broadens for extra cutting power. To reduce the weight and improve manueverability, you forge channels in the face of the blade. This makes it light for its width but helps it retain some cutting power.
You forge the fullers too thin, and the blade can break in your hand.
"This isn't really death," Frodo says. "We'll be legend. We won't grow old."
I tongue the elven blade into my cheek and say, Mr. Frodo, you're thinking of ringwraiths.
The mountain we're standing on won't be here in ten minutes. You take a 98 percent concentration of a fuming portion of a dark lord's power and add it to molten gold. Then, pour the gold into a mold in the shape of a ring. Take it out of the mold and remove the sprues in a closed environment, and you have a ring of power.
I know this because Frodo knows this.
Throw the ring into the fires in which it was forged, and you get a massive explosion that brings down the mountain. A lot of folk feed them to dragons or pay a Balrog to lash the ring. Dragons and Balrogs have never, ever worked for me.
So Frodo and I are on top of Mount Doom with Sting stuck in my mouth, and we hear rocks crumbling. Look over the edge. It's always a cloudy day, especially this high up. This is Middle Earth's most evil mountain, and on top of it the wind is always cold. It's so quiet this high up, the feeling you get is that you're one of those Nazgul steeds. You do the little job you're told to do.
Get ridden to battle.
Confront a shield maiden.
You don't understand any of it, and then you just die.
Three-thousand feet up up, you look over the edge of the cliff and the plane below is mottled with a shag carpet of orcs, walking, marching to the West. The stone crumbling is the cliff-face right below us. Gollum climbs up the side of mountain, eyes big as Gandalf's old hat as he picks his way up slowly. Bits of ragged clothing catch on jagged rocks and drop, getting smaller, disappearing into the packed crowd."
...
So.. there you go.
This thread is turning out much, much better than I thought it would! Utterly fantastic!
quote:
Originally posted by Truth Seeker
Someone really ought to report this thread to threadspotting!
The Dr. Suess version is perfect. The Milton is also eerily excellent. James Joyce, anyone?
quote:
Originally posted by tracer
Gandalf-Muad'Dib, the Mithrandir, the Lisan Al'Maia!"
-- from Ring Messiah, by Frank Herbert [/B]
Yeats is turning in his grave...
Another easy one: (my first post ever!) most humble apologies to all for the terrible rape of this poem.
WB Yeats
The Lake Isle of The Grey Havens
I will arise and sail now, and sail to the Grey Havens,
And a small tower build there, of mithril and magic made:
Nine ent friends will I have there, a hole for the hobbit free,
And live alone in the pipe weed glade.
gonzoron: Heh. If you're going to do LotR as a D&D novel, you might as well go all the way:
"A balrog!" Gandalf rasped. "I might have known!"
Pippin hauled out his well-worn copy of the Monstrous Manual, while Merry peeked over his shoulder. "I don't see 'Balrog' listed in the index anywhere."
"Of course not, foolish Took," the high-level mage chided him. "The copyright to the 'Balrog' name is owned by the Tolkien estate. Gygax had to call it 'Balor' or a 'Type VI demon' when he put the MM together."
Merry quickly thumbed to the Demon section, only to recall that in 2nd Edition, "Demons" and "Devils" had been renamed Baatezu and Tanar'ri, although he never could remember which was which. He cursed the Fundamentalist Christian parents' groups who had threatened to boycott TSR for creating a "demonic" game, and which had forced that particularly stupid name-change upon them. Finally, though, he located "Balor" in the Tanar'ri section, grateful that they weren't among the discontinued demon listings like Orcus and Demogorgon.
"They're only 13 hit dice," Merry dutifully reported, "But they can cast dispel magic every round at 20th level, so watch yourself, Gandalf!"
"That also do 4d8 damage if they make a to-hit roll with their whip and drag you close to their bodies," Gimli noted. "I'm outta here!" He turned and ran at his full movement rate of 9 (12 if he wasn't wearing armor).
"Leave him to me," the mage intoned. "They're worth 46,000 experience points apiece, and if I kill him by myself, I get all of those points!" He strode toward the Balr-- er, Balor, and blocked the 10-foot-wide corridor leading out of the room. "You shall not pass!!"
I am in absolute AWE of the fantastic creativity that is shown here!!!
....bows down in utter amazement.....
__________________
CAUTION: may contain Mature material.
But I doubt it.
LOTR: Choose Your Own Adventure
You're sitting in your hole, smoking a pipe and drinking some fine hobbit ale, when the door knocks. Outside, there's Gandalf the Wizard. Do you let him in?
If yes, go to page 65, if no, turn to page 43.
Page 65
"Ah, my dear Frodo, it's good to see you. Now, my boy, I'm here on urgent business. The magic ring your Uncle Bilbo took from Gollum is cursed, and must be taken far from here, until we decide what to do with it. Will you take on this mission?"
If yes, go to page 13, if no, turn to page 72:
Page 72:
"Your courage does you honor, Frodo. Take this ring, and I'll meet you later. Do you want me to meet you at Galdriel's tree fortress or at Elrond's palace?"
For Galadriel's fortress, go to page 88, for Elrond's palace, turn to page 27.
Page 68:
As you enter the forest, the beautiful Galadriel and her footmen greet you. She says, "My, you're courageous to take this quest. Carrying that ring must be exhausting. Would you like to keep it, or give it to me?"
To keep the ring, go to page 47, to give it to Galadriel, turn to page 88.
Page 88:
"HAHAHAHAHAHA, you foolish halfling," she cries. "Now I am beautiful and terrible and mighty, and will rule all the Earth."
As she laughs, she signals her minions to torure you to death. At least, you die knowing you won't be around to see all of Earth under her tyranny.
THE END
Hello,
I found out about this thread over on swordforum.com. I hope you all don't mind, but I couldn't resist! Here's mine...
Shaw Brothers/Kung-fu theater style… (All dubbed dialogue that doesn’t quite match lip movement, of course!)
One Ring of Death (aka Ninja Fellowship, aka A Halfling Loaf of Kung Fu, aka Shaolin Versus Mordor, aka Superfighters)
[Gimli and Legolas finished off the last Orc with dual sidekicks to either side of the Orc’s neck.]
Gimli and Legolas: (Simultaneously) That’s six! Still tied!
[Suddenly the Chief Abbot appears at the other side of the Moria Bridge.]
Chief Abbot: Why, you! How dare ya disrupt my plansssss!!!
Gandalf: Chief Abbot!
Chief Abbot: Fool! Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’m really the Balrog!
All: Ah!
Balrog/Chief Abbot: For years now, I’ve been exiled into these caves. But what you didn’t know is… I’ve found the lost book!
Gandalf: You mean…
Balrog/Chief Abbot: Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, haaaaaaa!
Balrog/Chief Abbot: That’s right! The book of the five fiery fists. And I’ve finally mastered it too.
Frodo: Why, you!
[Frodo has flash-back of quick cut scenes showing the murder of his parents.]
Frodo: You must pay!
[Frodo leaps forward only to be thrown back by Gandalf.]
Gandalf: No! Your kung fu is still too weak. Go! Take the ring to mount doom. Learn it’s secret style. And avenge my death!
[Gandalf leaps forward, kicking the Balrog in the chest.]
[Balrog staggers back a few steps and then steadies himself.]
Balrog/Chief Abbot: Right. [Balrog gives thumbs up to Gandalf] Your beggars Kung Fu really is peerless. But still. You’re wastin’ your time if you think you can beat me!
[Balrog leaps forward, easily deflects a few of Gandalf’s blows, and plants an eagle claw to Gandalf’s throat.]
Gandalf: (Strangling) You’ve forgotten one thing. My secret kick.
[And with that, Gandalf slams his foot down on the bridge, sending them both into the abyss.]
Frodo: Maaaaassssttteeeerrrrrrr!!!!!!!!
Well, not really writers, but:
LotR with Sportscaster Commentary (preferably Madden)
The army that wins will be the one that kills more of the enemy while not getting as many of themselves killed.
What's important for the forces of good? Turnovers. The forces of good can't turn over that ring. Turning over that ring will have a definite impact on the outcome of this war.
Watch as the pocket collapses around the Nazgul King and BOOM! He's down.
Let's go down to our battlefield sideline reporter for an update on Theoden. "Well, John, the word is that Theoden has been hit with a dart and mortally wounded, so his return for the second half is (wait for it) questionable."
And, of course:
The evil that is Sauron pales in comparision to the throwing ability of Brett Farve.
You guys got any more?
I took the cart to the Shire, where the inhabitants average about 3 feet in height, which is about the same distance a Democrat's hand is from the ground as he's about to filch your wallet. As the cart bounced on the root-laden dirt road that the hobbits apparently tended to as much as the Bosnian legislature tends to their bullethole removal fund, I finally saw Frodo, pipe in hand. I wondered if the weed was Cuban, smuggled into this country by Elian Gonzales's cabin mates.
Frodo is your typical hobbit, about as prescient to events going on in the outside world as goldfish are of Eminem's tatooes. Yet let one of these pubic-footed Under the Rainbow extras out of the Shire, and he somehow steals the most powerful weapon in the known world and brings it back. It's the equivalent of letting your canary fly out of the cage for a few minutes and having her return with a fully-armed Russian tactical nuke.
Frodo acts like he's got some kind of issue with me, but fortunately a lit sparkler out of my backpack makes him forget. I wonder how many sparklers it will take for me to convince him to forget the dangers of taking the most powerful weapon in the known world over to the black pits of hell from which it spawned to destroy it. Fortunately, I brought a 12-pack.
P. J. O'Rourke, Lord of the Futon
quote:
Originally posted by Ranchoth
The King of the Nazgul (KotN) fingered the safety buckle that secured the shortsword in it's scabbard. It was modeled after the Gladius design, making it wholly inadequate for going up against Elven armour, but it was perfectly suited for being jammed in the collarbone of a Hobbit 'merc, without calling too much attention to it's owner. His XO, "Camel" Khamul had used a similar weapon in numerous CoIN missions in North Gondor, where he had been sent to disrupt "Elrond's" supply fellowships sneaking down the Is-ild-ur trail.
The KotN smiled, even without a head. This mission was almost going to be a mead-run. Taking out a squad of sleeping halflings was going to be easier than slaying Wyvyrns sitting on a tarmac...
-Hunt for the Ring, Tom Clancy
I sing of Rings, and the halfling who,
Forced by fate and eveil Sauron's unrelenting stare,
First left the Shires for the mountains for Mordor.
Long labors, both by water and land he bore,
Until the doubtful war was won, the destined tower razed,
The evil gods banished by rites arcane,
And settled sure succession in Aragorn's line,
Whence comes the race of human kings,
And the long glories of majestic Gondor.
-- The Gondoriad, Vergil
Would anyone like to try some Robert E Howard?
Or how about Mickey Spillane's "I, the Ringwraith" ?
The Reverend Dodgson submits the following:
Frodo was beginning to get very tired of living with his uncle Bilbo in Hobbiton and of having nothing to do: once or twice he had peeped into the red book in which Bilbo was writing, but he couldn’t make it out and it did not have enough pictures of elves, ‘and what is the use of a book,' thought Frodo `without pictures of elves?'
So he was considering in his own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made him feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of having an ale with Sam in Bywater would be worth the trouble of getting up and collecting Same, when suddenly a dwarf with a blue hood and walking stick ran close by him.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Frodo think it so very much out of the way to hear the Dwarf say to himself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late! And Balin will be so angry with me' (when he thought it over afterwards, it occurred to him that he ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the dwarf actually took a large axe out of its belt, and swung it a few times as if preparing for battle, and then hurried on, Frodo started to his feet, for it flashed across his mind that he had never before seen a Dwarf in Hobbiton with either an axe or a belt to remove it from, and burning with curiosity, he ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large hole under the hedge.
In another moment down went Frodo after it, never once considering how in the world he was to get out again. The hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Frodo had not a moment to think about stopping himself before he found himself falling down a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or he fell very slowly, for he had plenty of time as he went down to look about him and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, he tried to look down and make out what he was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then he looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps of Middle Earth and pictures of dragons hung upon pegs. He took down a jar from one of the shelves as he passed; it was labeled `LEMBAS,' but to his great disappointment it was empty . . . .
From Frodo's Adventures in Middle Earth, by Lewis Carroll.
The Reverend Dodgson submits the following:
Frodo was beginning to get very tired of living with his uncle Bilbo in Hobbiton and of having nothing to do: once or twice he had peeped into the red book in which Bilbo was writing, but he couldn’t make it out and it did not have enough pictures of elves, ‘and what is the use of a book,' thought Frodo `without pictures of elves?'
So he was considering in his own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made him feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of having an ale with Sam in Bywater would be worth the trouble of getting up and collecting Same, when suddenly a dwarf with a blue hood and walking stick ran close by him.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Frodo think it so very much out of the way to hear the Dwarf say to himself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late! And Balin will be so angry with me' (when he thought it over afterwards, it occurred to him that he ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the dwarf actually took a large axe out of its belt, and swung it a few times as if preparing for battle, and then hurried on, Frodo started to his feet, for it flashed across his mind that he had never before seen a Dwarf in Hobbiton with either an axe or a belt to remove it from, and burning with curiosity, he ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large hole under the hedge.
In another moment down went Frodo after it, never once considering how in the world he was to get out again. The hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Frodo had not a moment to think about stopping himself before he found himself falling down a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or he fell very slowly, for he had plenty of time as he went down to look about him and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, he tried to look down and make out what he was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then he looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there he saw maps of Middle Earth and pictures of dragons hung upon pegs. He took down a jar from one of the shelves as he passed; it was labeled `LEMBAS,' but to his great disappointment it was empty . . . .
From Frodo's Adventures in Middle Earth, by Lewis Carroll.
Suprised someone else hasn't come up with this one:
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
There was me, that is Frodo, and my three droogs, that is Merry, Pippin, and Sam, Sam being really dim, and we sat in the Prancing Pony making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard...
That's all I've got today. Someone with more talent can continue it.
Hehehehehe, O man, these are just great!!
Tom Wolfe
His head still on the pillow, Frodo Baggins groaned. The sound of the knocking on the door of the Prancing Pony was shaking the poisonous yolk that was his head, shaking it, threatening to break it. The yolk was as heavy as unforged mithril, and it tilted this way and that, painful as orc-spear in naked flesh. If the yolk broke, he was finished.
What had he been doing last night? He looked with disgust at the filthy clothes he had left scattered on the floor, at the sloppy arrangement of blankets on the floor that had served him for the bed. A man-sized chair of rickety wood was by the fireplace. Dear God, the Breelanders and their cheap substitutes for real furniture. Again the yolk shifted.
Something about last night. Merry and Pippin had been getting drunk on Butterbur's tab, and he had joined them even though he only had twenty silver pennies and those had to last him until Rivendell...something about the Ring. Frodo jerked his head up and immediately the yolk crashed into his skull. His head fell again. He had sung some outrageously stupid song of that old prat Bilbo's, and even Sam had come in by then and had asked him to sing it again and Frodo, drunk with beer and attention, had agreed and then he had fallen and the Ring had fallen too -
The knocking continued. He had to answer or he would never get to sleep again. He stood up, clutching at the legs of the chair as the yolk shifted again.
He would never drink again. Never! Not so much as a small miruvor until Rivendell - he would be reformed from today on.
The knocking continued. "Oh, come in!" Frodo tried to yell, but ended in a feeble groan. God, the Breelanders, he thought again. The Ring. Why did I ever come here in the first place?
quote:
Originally posted by Fingolfin
The Lord of the Rings
Starring Humphrey Bogart and Marlene Dietreich
Directed by Howard Hawks
http://ringil.cis.ksu.edu/Tolkien/Movie/lotr.mov
Frodo jacked in.
He felt huge, invincible, unstoppable. Some small part of him knew that was the hits of pipe-weed talking, skewing his sense of self, making his nerves scream like they were being raked over rusted chrome. Knew, and didn't care.
Over his shoulder he could feel Sam hovering, a hollow nonentity. It was eerie knowing he was back there, like having an itch in a limb long amputated. All around him the middle-matrix arced off into an impossible blue infinity, gridlines benchmarking the empty nonspace.
"There it is," came Sam's voice. "That's the ice. Good luck breakin' in there, man, that was made by a military AI. Name of ephelduath. You ain't seen nuthin' like it. They say it's two way ice. Not only will it fry your brainpan tryin' to get in, nuthin' inside can work its way out. Leastaways, not without sarumancer's say-so."
Frodo wished Sam would shut the hell up. He also wished he wasn't about to do what he came for. He wished a lot of things. He surveyed this sector of cyberspace. Before him was the ephelduath ice, shadowy and indistinct, and very very deadly. And beyond it, just visible through the whorls of lethal, greasy code, was sarumancer himself. The Dark Lord presented in the middle-matrix as a collosal data construct, angular and hideous. A mountain of vicious, evil information so dense it was hard to look at, hard to take in all at once. It played tricks on the eyes. Each nodule, each piece of it seemed to contain a perfect glittering symmetry. A simple frightening geometry. But taken altogether it became a great organic pyramidal thing, a digital volcano spewing mirrored liquid spheres of awareness out into the void. These spheres, Frodo knew, served as sarumancer's eyes. When they intersected a gridline, at random, they would latch onto it and streak off in an unchosen direction in a vain effort to apprehend, to know, to see, all of the middle-matrix at once.
Here we go. He drew out the elvish icebreaker and contemplated its image for a moment. Given to him by Galadriel herself. He activated it, his unseen fingers moving fluidly over the keys of his Ono-Sendai. Triggered, the icebreaker flared up, a searing point of magnesium brilliance. He clicked forward, towards the ice. Slowly. Click. Carefully. Click. The elvish icebreaker encountered ephelduath's handiwork, and forced it to recede. The ice's killer algorithms spiralled futiley around Frodo and Sam as they rode the icebreaker inwards...
From The Lord of the Rings by William Gibson
quote:
Originally posted by Joe_Cool
I don't have the talent to write it, but if I did, it would be by Homer.
Ooh, how about Patrick O'Brian? Just cut & paste a lot of incomprehensible sheets & yardarms into the text.
The Khazad-dum Bridge Disaster
Beautiful Stony Bridge of the Dwarven mines!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That two lives have been taken away
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the Balrog it burn't with all its might,
And the fire came pouring down,
And the dark orcs seem'd to frown,
And the Demon of the fire seem'd to say-
"I'll pass across the Bridge today."
When the party left Rivendell
The Fellowship's hearts were light and they felt quite well,
But Boromir threw a terrific strop,
Which made their hearts for to stop,
And many of the Fellowship with fear did hum-
"I hope Elbereth Gilthoniel will send us safe across the Bridge of Khazad-dum."
But when the hobbits were ready to feed their tum,
The Balrog he gathered his orcish scum,
And shook the whole structure of the Bridge of Khazad-dum
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
So the Wizard mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Khazad-dum,
Until he was looking at the Balrog's bum,
Then the whole bridge gave way with a hiss,
And down went Gandalf and Fiend into the abyss!
The Fiery Fiend did loudly quip,
Because he'd gotten Gandalf with his whip,
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
As soon as the catastrophe which could not have been worse
The alarm from mouth to mouth spread from river to firth,
And the cry rang out all o'er Middle Earth,
The Khazad-dum Bridge is blown down - O Elbereth!
And in the Fellowship from Rivendell,
Of which all the people were scared as h*ll,
Because they all heard Gandalf's yell
"Fly, you fools!" Well, none had breath to to tell
How the disaster happen'd on the last last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
by William F. McGonagall
see:
http://www.taynet.co.uk/users/mcgon/disaster.htm
__________________
Arnold Winkelried:
'glee, I take my hat off to you.... at first I thought you were kidding with your cite but I looked it up and it was indeed accurate. (Still in awe at the magnificent answer)'
The unofficial Australian version...
Once a jolly wizard camped by a dwarven mine,
Under the shade of the mountains misty,
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his password worked,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his password worked,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Down came a monster to grab at that Ring-bearer:
Up jumped Lego-las and loaded his bow with glee,
And he sang as he fired all his arrows at that mo-onster,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And he sang as he fired all his arrows at that mo-onster,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Up came a Numorean, carrying his broken sword;
Down came the hobbits, one, two, three:
"Where's that coat of mithril you've got underneath your shirt?
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
"Where's that coat of mithril you've got underneath your shirt?
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Up jumped the pony Bill and fled from the scene quickly;
"You'll never take me in there!" thought he;
And his neighs may be heard as you pass by that dwarven mine,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And his neighs may be heard as you pass by that dwarven mine,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Apologies to A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
__________________
Arnold Winkelried:
'glee, I take my hat off to you.... at first I thought you were kidding with your cite but I looked it up and it was indeed accurate. (Still in awe at the magnificent answer)'
Perhaps a feeble effort, but here it is.
Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
Old Hobbiton hath perced to the roote,
And Frodo drinken down in swich licour
Of which vertu he passeth happy hour;
Whan Gandalphus eek with his wise voice
Inspired hath in Frodo's heart a choice,
(so priketh him nature in his corages);
To join odd folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And travel far to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from this homely shire's ende
To Mordor, evil's keep, to wende
To cast into the fire this One great Ring
...
-- Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Ring
__________________
Bob the Random Expert
Roped in by a Texan!
"Before I free myself from this abyss, Master Frodo,
Sam said when he had stood up straight,
"tell me enough I see I don't mistake;
where is the ring? And how is Sauron so placed
head downward? Tell me, too, how has the sun
in so few hours gone from night to morning?"
And he to me: "You still believe you are
north of center middle-earth, where I met the gaze
of the unblinking eye who pierces through the world.
And you were there as long as I descended;
but when I turned, that's when you passed the point
to which, from every, part, the rings weight from me is drawn."
There is a place beyond, the limit of
that sea, its farthest point from Sauron,
a place one cannot see: it is discovered
by ship-there is a sounding sea that flows
along the hollow of a rock, and the slope is easy.
So Gandalf and Frodo came upon that hidden road
to make their way back into the bright world
with no care for any rest, they sailed
Gandalf first, Frodo following-until he saw
through a round opening, some of those things
of beauty the Deathless Lands bear. It was from there
that they emerged, to see-once more-the stars.
Frodo's Inferno
So I put the thing on, and I'm (like) invisible. I'm not, as anyone around here will tell you, in the business of wearing jewelry, but damn, this little gold ring kicks more @ss than anyone should rightly possess.
--Tycho Brahe (www.penny-arcade.com)
Err... I don't know where that came from. But I *do* know where this came from:
Belrond lounged indolently back in his chair, scratching at his formal purple robe in mild irritation. "Why do I have to wear this thing, anyway?"
Arwen smirked at him. "I think it helps them to think of you as
somewhat respectable, Old Wolf. Frodo, if you don't stop playing with it, it will never leave you alone."
Frodo looked up from the glowing blue ring in his lap. "But it keeps singing to me. Why's it doing that?" Belrond and Arwen exchanged a glance. "It does that to everyone, Frodo. Now, put it back in your pouch and let's go. I'm sure the council is about to start."
As if on cue, Legolas entered, bowing deeply. "Ancient and Beloved, Lady Arwen, the kings have assembled and await thy presence." Rolling his eyes, Belrond lead them down the hallway towards the council chamber. Frodo stared at the rich tapestries and columns of pure white marble, thinking how a few months ago, he had been living in a simple hobbit-hole, and Aunt Arwen was just Aunt Arwen and not someone to be treated with respect by kings.
As they rounded a corner, Belrond was nearly floored by a dirty fist. Legolas watching in disbelief, Belrond wrestled his assailant to the ground, each of them letting out a stream of curses that curled Frodo's ears. Finally, they separated, and Belrond cursed again, muttering "What's got into that ratty excuse for a head on your shoulders, Gandalf?"
His opponent, a hairy, misshapen fellow clad in grimy grey robes, glared back. "That's for sending me to Saruman's tower on a fool's errand, Belrond. The old goat sat me on his roof for three months. I'm lucky he lost concentration and let me shift into falcon form before I started getting too hungry." With a belch, he turned his attention to Arwen. "You're getting fat, Arwen. Aragorn finally knock you up, or you just letting yourself go?"
Legolas gasped, but Arwen regarded the ugly wizard calmly. "When's the last time you took a bath, Gandalf?"
Gandalf shrugged negligently, scratching himself "I think a storm rained on me a couple years ago, while I was watching Kal Sauron's tomb."
...
-- Lord of the (Blue) Rings, by David Eddings
Okay, I lied, I don't know where that come from either. But it's clear that I'm definitely going to Hell, now.
And for those of you who claim Gandalf should have been Belgarath, well.. a pox on both your houses.
--the Mouse
A little Hawthorne, anyone?
The ring had become for him more than a quest, more than a burden. Even in its absence its presence grew, to become an emblem of the languid darkness that crept between Mordor and Shire, Hobbit and friend, unsolaced mind and weary heart. For the rest of his days, the veiled weight pulled his tired eyes abjectly down, away from the shining light of his Creator, and into the dark heart that beat within all, whether, Hobbit, Elf or man. On occasion, the faint smile of a younger self glimmered on his grim visage, as a sputtering candle casts its own shadow of light across the landscape of darkness.
OK, I'll try Piers Anthony.
--------------------------
Shelob gazed at Samwise with frank interest. Now that he could see her better, her spidery aspect was less fearsome. She was some woman!
"I'm sorry, Shelob," he said diffidently, "but I must deliver the Ring to the Crack of Doom. I cannot abate my onus."
"Because I'm a spider!" she flared. Samwise was taken aback. This was some feminine logic!
Samwise considered. Probably he should simply stick her with Sting--the sexual connotation was apt! But his conscience balked. And he was flattered; few females--human or otherwise-- would be content with a man of his height.
"I'm sorry," he said again, lamely. "I must go." He withdrew the Phial of Galadriel and displayed it to Shelob. Shrieking curses, she retreated before him, her female form tempting him still--
No! He would not be distracted. Suddenly he remembered with fresh urgency:
Frodo was alive, but taken by the enemy.
----------------------------------
Please accept my apologies for that.
Fingolfin, I hope you have an industrial strength server hosting that movie, because I bet it's gonna get slammed if word of this gets out (and I strongly suspect that some of the www.memepool.com folks peek in here every once in a while).
Nice to see so many people delurking for this thread. Welcome, y'all!
Re: The Khazad-dum Bridge Disaster
Iteki: No, sadly I did not go that. I am not sure who did, but it is fantastic!
quote:
Originally posted by glee
Beautiful Stony Bridge of the Dwarven mines!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That two lives have been taken away
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the Balrog it burn't with all its might,
And the fire came pouring down,
And the dark orcs seem'd to frown,
And the Demon of the fire seem'd to say-
"I'll pass across the Bridge today."
When the party left Rivendell
The Fellowship's hearts were light and they felt quite well,
But Boromir threw a terrific strop,
Which made their hearts for to stop,
And many of the Fellowship with fear did hum-
"I hope Elbereth Gilthoniel will send us safe across the Bridge of Khazad-dum."
But when the hobbits were ready to feed their tum,
The Balrog he gathered his orcish scum,
And shook the whole structure of the Bridge of Khazad-dum
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
So the Wizard mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Khazad-dum,
Until he was looking at the Balrog's bum,
Then the whole bridge gave way with a hiss,
And down went Gandalf and Fiend into the abyss!
The Fiery Fiend did loudly quip,
Because he'd gotten Gandalf with his whip,
On the last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
As soon as the catastrophe which could not have been worse
The alarm from mouth to mouth spread from river to firth,
And the cry rang out all o'er Middle Earth,
The Khazad-dum Bridge is blown down - O Elbereth!
And in the Fellowship from Rivendell,
Of which all the people were scared as h*ll,
Because they all heard Gandalf's yell
"Fly, you fools!" Well, none had breath to to tell
How the disaster happen'd on the last last (Third Age) day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
by William F. McGonagall
see:
http://www.taynet.co.uk/users/mcgon/disaster.htm
The Lord of the Rings by John Cage:
THE RING!!!!!!!!!
The End.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of Halfling,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow within dark Mordor,
(Come in under the shadow of dark Mordor),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a circlet of gold.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Shire zu.
Mein Hobbitisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
'You gave me the Ring first a year ago;
'They called me the Ringbearer.'
--Yet when we came back, late, from Orodruin,
Your finger missing, and your strength gone, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of darkness, the silence.
Oed' und leer das Land.
Madame Galadriel, famous Elf Queen,
Had a forbidding realm, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Middle-Earth,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Wizard,
(Those are the grey robes that were his garb. Look!)
Here is Eowyn, the Lady of the Horses,
The lady of battle.
Here is the man with many colors, and here the Staff,
And here is the one-eyed Sauron, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he searches for in your pack,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Uruk-Hai. Fear death by Nazgul.
I see crowds of people, talking about a Ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Master Gamgee,
Tell him I bring the mallorn myself:
One must be so careful these days.
Lord of the Waste Land, by T.S. Eliot
__________________
Elephants, yeah!
The Lord of the Rings. S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure (the Good Parts version by William Goldman):
The year that Arwen was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a Gondor scullery maid named Annette. Annette worked in Gondor for the Steward and Stewardess (this was before the King returned), and it did not escape notice of the Steward's that someone extraordinary was polishing the mithril. This notice in turn did not escape the notice of the Stewardess either, who was not very beautiful and not very rich, but plenty smart. The Stewardess set about studying Annette and shortly found her adversary's tragic flaw.
Chocolate.
Armed now, the Stewardess set to work. Minas Tirith turned into a candy castle. Everywhere you looked, bonbons, truffles, mints. Annete never had a chance. She soon went from dainty to enormous. And the Steward never glanced her way again without sad bewilderment. (It must be mentioned that Annette seemed only cheerier through these events.) The Steward's notice soon turned to his mother-in-law. The Stewardess noticed this too, and became grumpy about the whole thing. Not surprisingly, the Stewardess's grumpiness became legendary, as Voltaire has so ably chronicled. Except this was before Voltaire.)
*Skip a bunch of beautiful people becoming ugly over the next fifteen years.*
Arwen, of course, at fifteen, knew none of the other goings on. And if she had, she would not have understood what difference it made who was the most beautiful. (Arwen at this time was barely in the top twenty, and that was out of potential only.) She hated washing her face and combing her hair and other such activities. Her favorite things to do were riding her horse and taunging the orphaned ranger boy.
Arwen named her horse "Horse." (She was never long on imagination.) It did what she told it. So did the Ranger boy. Actually, he was more of a young man now, but that didn't matter. She had always called him Ranger Boy and did so still. She'd say "Ranger Boy, fetch this. Ranger Boy, kill the necromancer. Hurry up now or I'll tell father."
"As you wish."
That was all he ever answered. "As you wish."
Now it must be mentioned that S. Morgenstern was rather long winded. So I relate this tale to you as my father told it to me with only the important parts left in. Morgenstern loved to go off about the courtly rituals of the elves, and how one was supposed to conduct oneself when dining with them. It really is only of interest to one from Middle Earth himself.....
*Cut to Aragorn fighting the orcs in Moria.*
My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isuldur. You killed my father. Prepare to die.
__________________
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I websurfed, weak and weary,
Over many a strange and spurious website of 'hot chicks galore',
While I clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning,
And my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour.
"'Tis not possible!" I muttered, "Give me back my cheap hardcore!"
Quoth the server, "404".
quote:
Originally posted by KidCharlemagne
Someone right one in lawyerese
quote:
Originally posted by pravnik
COMES NOW, plaintiff, Sauron, to file this original Complaint, and would show this honorable court the following:
1. Plaintiff and party of the first part, Sauron ("Sauron") is a(n) (un)natural person, and resident and domiciliary of Mordor.
2. Defendant and party of the second part, Frodo Baggins ("Frodo") is a natural person and resident of Hobbiton. Co-Defendant and party of the third part Samwise Gamgee ("Sam") is likewise same.
3. All parties being properly diverse, jurisdiction is proper pursuant to 28 M.E.C. 1332. Damages far exceed the minimum jurisdiction of the court.
4. Defendant has converted and trespassed against the chattel and personalty of the plaintiff, namely, the One Ring ("Ring") and is liable to plaintiff for same.
5. Plaintiff would further show on or about the final day of the Third Age, defendants did intentionally cause the destruction of Ring while plaintiff was engaged in defending his business from hostile takeover. In the alternative, plaintiff pleads that the actions of the defendants toward ring amount to recklessness, gross negligence, and negligence.
6. As a direct result of destruction of Ring, plaintiff has suffered actual damages in the form of irreparable harm to his business and personal reputation, as well as direct and indirect loss of income. Plaintiff has further suffered from mental anguish, humiliation, and loss of consortium.
7. Insofar as actions of defendants were intentional, plaintiff further requests punitive damages in the amount of treble his actual damages.
WHEREFORE, PLAINTIFF, SAURON, PRAYS FOR: all reasonable damages above named; FURTHER, plaintiff prays for all additional relief in law or equity deemed necessary and proper by this honorable court.
Respectfully submitted,
Mouth of Sauron
Attorney for Plaintiff
Middle Earth Bar No. 734925639
Isildur I, Part 1
Scene: Barad-Dur
[Flourish. Enter Gil-galad, Elendil, Isildur.]
Gil-galad: Se'en years, hath we laid siege to the dark tower. And e'en yet the dark lord himself now approacheth.
Elendil: Yay, forsooth. The host of Mordor hath we lain waste, and all orcs and trolls hath their liege forsook.
[Enter Sauron]
Sauron: Of minions now have I no need. Mere elf-lords and lowly men shall quail before the wrath of the maia uncloak'ed.
[They fight. Gil-galad and Elendil die.]
Isildur: Araunt, lord of darkness. For the life of my sire, thou shalt pay dearly.
[They fight. Sauron falls]
Sauron: Unseamed am I from nave to chaps. Seek me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave fellow--fingerless, bereft of that jewel which once held all in its sway, all is lost. [dies]
Isildur: For weregild shall I claim this. It shall be an heirloom to my kingdom.
[Exeunt]
A meara! A meara!
My kingdom for a meara!
As a closet Eddings fan, the Belrond one had me giggling madly.
Lots of other great adaptations, as well.
How about:
Did you ever wonder just what is it with rings? You've got those nine wraithmakers, for example. You'd think the dummies would read the Steward-required warnings: "May cause gulness. Wear at your own risk." And the seven midget...er, dwarf rings. How much brainpower does it take to figure out that carrying your gold around in your underwear so it can't be stolen is kind of sick? Only the Elves managed to cop to the Dark Lord's plan...and believe me, they aren't going to let you forget it!
-A Few Ages with Andy Rooney
The Little Ring by Hans Christian Andersen
Once there was a beautiful golden ring that had been made by a terrible lord. This wicked lord wished to be the king of all the world. He made the little ring to help him gain power over the many good kings and queens who ruled in the lands about him.
The little ring was very proud that he was such a splendid ring. He knew that all who saw him wished to own him and be as powerful as the wicked lord. He saw many ride in battle to try to overthrow the wicked lord, but none ever succeeded. "I must be a wonderful thing!" thought the little ring, "I am coveted by all!"
But one day, there was an awful battle, and the ring was cut off the hand of the wicked lord! The little ring felt himself picked up by a mighty king. He was glad, for the mighty king had a great army and glorious banners. The little ring thought he would be very happy with the mighty king, and that he would live in a grand palace and be the most prized possession of the kingdom.
Alas, it was not to be, for the mighty king was killed and the ring sank to the bottom of a river. He was very sad, for it was lonely and cold there. "I wish I could see the banners of a splendid army again," he thought.
After a very long time, the ring was found by a strange little man who took him for his own. At first the ring was glad to be out of the river, but he did not like the little man, who talked to himself and had no army, nor even a house to live in. The little ring had to live in a damp old cave that smelled of fish.
Then the ring was rescued by another little man, who was much nicer than the first, but who had no palace or army, either. Finally he came into the hands of yet another little man, who brought him before a council of great lords. "At last I shall have the recognition I deserve," thought the proud little ring. "I have lived much too long in a river and a cave! That is no life for such an important ring as I!"
And so the little ring went on a rather strange and long journey, carried by the last little man. The ring understood that he was being taken back to the lands of his first master, the wicked lord, so he did not mind that there was no great army and splendid banners to accompany him. "Soon I shall enjoy life again!" the ring thought.
O, but the ring little suspected what was in store for him! He saw that he was fought over, and felt proud, but then he was falling, falling into a great fire! He heard a great clamor of armies and thought of the splendor of battle. "O, 'tis past! 'Tis over, all over! Never again," said the poor little ring.
In the spring, the earth bloomed again. All over the land, the grass grew over the battlefields where once the little ring had been so proud. However, those days were over and the ring was gone, and so every tale must end at last.
The King James Version
1 And the Five went unto Rivendell, which is called Imladris by the Elves.
2 And with Frodo were Meriadoc, and Peregrin, and Aragorn son of Arathorn, and the Gardener Whom Frodo Loved.
3 And they went unto the House of Elrond. And Elrond summoned a great council, and summoned elves from Mirkwood, which was Greenwood before the reign of Thranduil. And also men from Gondor, and from Dale, and Dwarves from Erebor unto the Lonely Mountain.
4 And Elrond spoke, saying, what shall we do with this Ring?
5 And Gandalf spoke, telling all of Gollum, and of Saruman, and the origin of the ring; and they slept. And they said, Gandalf, shut up.
6 And Gimli sayeth, shall we not leave the ring with the Elves? And Elrond grew wroth and rent his garment.
7 For Gandalf spoke, saying, verily verily I say unto you, the ring must be destroyed.
8 And Frodo at last spoke, saying, I shall take the ring, though I do not know the way. And they were glad.
-- The Gospel According to Frodo
Re: Re: The Khazad-dum Bridge Disaster
quote:
Originally posted by Fingolfin
glee, is that you? From the JREF Boards? The one who spanked the living daylights out of me in a BB Correspondence Chess game last week?
Testudo here, AKA Fingolfin.
I didn't know you were a Tolkien fan.
I can't take credit for writing this one, something I've had in my email archives, lo these many years....
G
------------------------
Lothlorien Rhapsody
Written by Freddie Mercury
(As told by Dionysus, performed by Frodo and the Sweathogs)
(Frodo)
Is this the real life?
Is this High Fantasy?
Caught in a land war.
No escaping my destiny.
(Sam)
Open your eyes, look up to the sky and see...
(Frodo)
I’m just a Hobbit, I need no sympathy.
These Rings are easy come, easy go, Little high, little low.
Anywhere these Rings go doesn’t really matter to me, to me...
(Eowyn)
Mama, just killed a wraith,
Put my sword up to his head,
Ran him through and now he’s dead.
(Gollum)
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away.
(Frodo)
Mama, oooh, Didn’t mean to make you cry,
If I’m not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on, as if these Rings don’t really matter...
(Sauron)
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body’s aching all the time.
(Bilbo)
Goodbye, ev’rybody, I’ve got to go...
Gotta leave you all behind and face the West....
(Gollum)
Mama, ooooh, [(Frodo) Anywhere the Rings go...] I don’t want to die.
I sometimes wish I’d never found this Ring at all....
(Cool guitar riff.)
(Hobbits)
I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Saruman! Saruman! What will you do with Frodo?
(The Nine Wraiths)
Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very fright’ning- me!
(Merry) Gandalf-eo! (Legolas) The Grey Pilgram!
(Merry) Gandalf-eo! (Legolas) The Grey Pilgram!
(Merry and Legolas) Gandalf-eo, Mithrandir...
(Gollum) Smeagol....
(Frodo)
I’m just a Hobbit and nobody loves me.
(Fellowship)
He’s just a Baggins, from a Shire family.
Spare him his life of this Ring bear-r-ring.
(Gollum)
Easy come, easy go. Will you let me go?
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) No, I will not let you go!
(The Nine) Let him go!
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) I will not let you go!
(The Nine) Let him go!
(Fellowship) The Stinker! (Sam) I will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me go!
(Sam and Frodo) Will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me go!
(Sam and Frodo) Will not let you go!
(Gollum) Let me goooo!...
(Fellowship) No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
(Bilbo)
Mama mia, mama mia!
(Gollum)
Mama mia let me go!
(Frodo)
The Loooord of Mordor has a Ring-Wraith set aside for me...
For Me......
For MEEEEEEE!!!
(REALLY cool guitar riff.)
(Sauron)
So you think you can fool me and spit in my Eye?
(Gollum)
So you think you can use me and leave to die?
(Sauron and Gollum)
Oh, Frodo! Can’t do this to me, Frodo!
(Frodo and Sam)
Just gotta get out! Just gotta get right outta here...
(Even more cool guitar...)
(All)
Oohh Yeah! Oooh Yeah!
(Galadriel)
These Rings don’t really matter, anyone can see...
(Elrond)
These Rings don’t really matter...
(Gandalf)
These Rings don’t really matter...
(Galadriel, Elrond, Gandalf, Bilbo)
To me.....
(Frodo)
Anywhere these Rings go...
Any Poppy Z. Brite fans here?
"On their last night before entering Mordor, Frodo hummed a tune he heard from a techno-goth band in Bree, and gazed at the sleeping Samwise. Sam's nose ring glistened in the moonlight and his tatoos shimmered like a woman's ass. Frodo reached down and took a drop of spit from Sam's mouth and tasted it. It was sweet, faintly tasting of pipeweed. What am I doing, he thought, tasting hobbit spit when we are about to enter Mordor. Tomorrow, they might be captured by Orcs and slowly tortured, their blood drained, their skin flayed and roasted and fed back to them. But tonight they had only each other, and Sam looked so very beautiful and perfect in the night. He crept up from the stuffed Elf head he was using as a pillow, and slowly reached his hand into Sam's breeches...
I'd love to do a Stephen King version of the end of Return of the King, but taking the potential profanity out would shorten to to about four sentences.
This story is about Middle Earth. The time was the Third Age, a different kind of age, a watershed age where one era was ending in Middle Earth and another beginning. It was the year The Shire decided to directly interviene in the epic affairs of obscure and distant Mordor. It was the year we went to war. In the broad, traditional sense, that "we" who went to was was all of us, all of Middle Earth, thogh in truth at that time the larger majority had little knowledge of, less interest in, and no great concern with what was beginning so far away.
So this story is about the smaller, more tightly focused "we" of that sentence: the first of the Fellowship, who boarded First Era-era ships, quested to that little known place, and fought the last major battle of a conflict that would not drag on.
We Were Hobbits, Once...and Short and Fat
Lt. Gen. Frodo Baggins (Ret.) and Samwise L. Gamgee
This story is about Middle Earth. The time was the Third Age, a different kind of age, a watershed age where one era was ending in Middle Earth and another beginning. It was the year The Shire decided to directly interviene in the epic affairs of obscure and distant Mordor. It was the year we went to war. In the broad, traditional sense, that "we" who went to was was all of us, all of Middle Earth, though in truth at that time the larger majority had little knowledge of, less interest in, and no great concern with what was beginning so far away.
So this story is about the smaller, more tightly focused "we" of that sentence: the first of the Fellowship, who boarded First Era-era ships, quested to that little known place, and fought the last major battle of a conflict that would not drag on.
We Were Hobbits, Once...and Short and Fat
Lt. Gen. Frodo Baggins (Ret.) and Samwise L. Gamgee
Re: The unofficial Australian version...
BWAHAHA!!!
The Hans Christian Anderson one was brilliant too, waiting for someone to do a Brothers Grimm.
My contribution:
Ringbearers still at large
Mordor (CNN) - Reports from the field have just arrived that the notorious group of ringbearers known mysteriously only as "the nine" were spotted by a band of orcs entering the terroist safe haven known as "Lothlorien" several days ago. The Mordor State Department issued an official proclamation today that the group were known to be armed and dangereous and had already caused the death of many orcs in the region as well as the notorious brutal murder of a high ranking Balrog previously resif\ding in Moria. They warn that any concerned citizens were to contact the Mordor Foriegn affairs office immediately with information as to the whereabouts of these fugitives and to not try and confront them themselves.
"We will act in our utmost to bring these terroists to justice" President Sauron declared today. "These terroists are attacking our way of life, our culture and the way we live. The world must know that the collected will of the dark lords minions will be strong and resolute."
First detected in the town of Bree in the north of middle Earth, these terroists wasted no time in coldly taking the lives of all nine Ringwraith Agents when it was discovered that they were on a plot to topple Mordor. It is believed that the group is composed of primarily hobbits backed up by support from a wide variety of races including dwaves, elves humans and a mysterious backer only known as "Mithrander".
"I must stress, Hobbits are a primarily peace loving race" President Sauron warned today after a spate of hate attacks against hobbit dwellings. "These hobbits are extremists, fundamentalists, they do not speak for hobbit kind".
Agents also believe that these terroists have strong links to the group that assasinated the Foriegn Diplomat, Smaug, earlier this age. If so, it would explain the impressive array of mythical weapons that the group has acquired.
So far, the terroist group has been utilizing safe houses in elvish country to evade capture and have slipped passed even the most stringent defences the Dark Lord has set in place. Residents are afraid for their children and people have stopped going out at night. "How am I going to let my kids go out and torture humans if I know that theres a group of orc killers roaming the countryside" a concerend mother said today".
Experts believe that, if these rogues are not brought to justice, a rash of copy cat attacks will follow and severely hurt the economy.
-- written by CNN correspondant, Saurman
quote:
Originally posted by glee
Once a jolly wizard camped by a dwarven mine,
Under the shade of the mountains misty,
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his password worked,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his password worked,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Down came a monster to grab at that Ring-bearer:
Up jumped Lego-las and loaded his bow with glee,
And he sang as he fired all his arrows at that mo-onster,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And he sang as he fired all his arrows at that mo-onster,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Up came a Numorean, carrying his broken sword;
Down came the hobbits, one, two, three:
"Where's that coat of mithril you've got underneath your shirt?
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
"Where's that coat of mithril you've got underneath your shirt?
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Up jumped the pony Bill and fled from the scene quickly;
"You'll never take me in there!" thought he;
And his neighs may be heard as you pass by that dwarven mine,
"Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?
Ring-bearing Frodo, Ring-bearing Frodo,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
And his neighs may be heard as you pass by that dwarven mine,
Who'll come Ring-bearing young Frodo with me?"
Apologies to A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
Re: Re: Re: The Khazad-dum Bridge Disaster
quote:
Originally posted by glee
What, me - the c3 Sicilian player?
The one who pressured your K-side relentlessly?
Who finally overcame your determined resistance with a double threat of fork and pin?
Dunno anything about that!
Yes, I use the same username all over the Internet (of course there may be imitators!).
I joined the UK Tolkien Society a long time ago (though my membership has lapsed).
I remember laughing out loud at a Society preview of the Bakshi cartoon film, when the Elf rides up to Frodo just before Rivendell and introduces himself as ... Legolas (though it does make cinematic sense to drop Glorfindel).
The Lord of the Rings, by Ogden Nash
There’s the ring that comes in a Cracker Jack box, which only costs you half a dollar,
And there’s the ring you find in laundry that lingers around the collar.
There are rings that come with diamonds that are used plight one’s troth,
And there’s a ring round planet Saturn – or is it Jupiter? – or possibly both.
But whatever ring you have, there’s one type of ring that admits no tomfoolery
And that’s magic jewellery.
For as soon as you put it on, you’re sure to disappear abruptly
And whatever you were doing before, you’ll soon be doing it corruptly
And it doesn’t matter whether you’re a dwarf or a human king,
Sooner or later, you succumb to the ring.
As it happens, a particularly nasty specimen of finger jewellery fell into the possession of a plucky young hobbit named Frodo,
And before long he was being chased across the countryside by Nazgul, who were trying to kill him dead as a dodo
For which the only cure was to fling the cursed thing into the lava pits of Orodruin
But that wasn’t the only trouble bruin
Because Saruman and Sauron were waging a war with goblins and Uruk-Hai and orcs
Against which the hobbits didn’t have much chance, being less familiar with swords than they were with spoons and forks.
So Frodo and his companion Sam
Left the rest of their Fellowship and went on the lam
Encountering along the way a creature known as Gollum
Who pretended to help them on their way while actually trying to stallum.
On and on they went, fighting orcs and spiders and fatigue
While the forces of evil busied themselves with mayhem and intrigue.
At the end, Frodo decided not to destroy the ring, but as he lingered
He suddenly found himself nine-fingered
While Gollum fell into the magma with a final ‘poof’
Proving that even the best magic rings won’t make you lava-proof.
Frodo and Sam, having thus disposed of both the ring and Smeagol
Decided that they deserved a nice vacation, and flew off to the Bahamas by eagol.
And Aragorn and Arwen got married and ruled as King and Queen
And Gandalf and the elves sailed into the West and were nevermore seen,
Which, considering the rather bleak way this tale’s been wending,
Is about as much as one could ask from a happy ending.
That being said, it seems to me that to accept a ring from the likes of Sauron
You’d have to be a mauron.
Can someone do a Jack Chick version? I wouldn't do it justice, I'm afraid.
At the Sign of the Prancing Sheep
“Draw me a nazgul.”
“What?”
“Draw me a nazgul.”
I jumped on my feet as though I’d been slapped by an invisible Baggins, and rubbed my eyes. The most extraordinary hobbit watched me gravely. I’ve drawn a picture of him, but it isn’t anywhere near as charming as the original. It isn’t my fault. I was discouraged from my career as an artist at age six by the big Numeoreans. I’ve never been able to draw anything except cross sections of orcs. And for that, I’ve used swords. “What are you standing there for?”
He watched me gravely, and said, as if it were a matter of great concern, “If you please, draw me a nazgul.”
I said I was a ranger who studied geography, and history, and rings, but that I didn’t know how to draw. He answered, “I must know. Draw me a nazgul.”
I drew as best I knew how, producing something like an orc that had swallowed a dwarf.
“No! No!” he said. “Not a vivisected orc! I need to know what a nazgul looks like!”
I drew a picture of a horse.
“What kind of nazgul is that?”
“It’s riding its horse. It’s been decowled.”
He tilted his head, and toyed with a golden ring. “Oh, yes! I think I see!”
That’s how I made the acquaintance of the prince of hobbits.
J.R.R. de Saint Exupery
quote:
Originally posted by Knowed Out
I took the cart to the Shire, where the inhabitants average about 3 feet in height, which is about the same distance a Democrat's hand is from the ground as he's about to filch your wallet.
(snip)
P. J. O'Rourke, Lord of the Futon
Field Guide to the Large Winged Creatures of Middle Earth by Roger Tory Peterson:
Eagle
Thoron Wingspread up to 180 ft.
Largest bird in Middle Earth. Sometimes known to carry Wizards, dwarfs and Hobbits, either in talons or on back.
Voice Speak Westron, Quenya.
Range Mountainous areas of Middle Earth, esp. Misty Mountains, Vale of Anduin, Wilderland. Sometimes hunts far from mountains.
Similar Species Only flying creature of similar size is Winged Nazgul (see).
Winged Nazgul
Ulari Hideous flying cretures. Can be told from Eagle at a distance by longer neck (suitable for hacking off head), lack of feathers. Closer up, foul odor and prescence of undead Ringwraith on back is diagnostic.
Voice A harsh croak
Range Mordor and surrounding mountains and areas, to Field of Pelennor (1 report). Very rare, if indeed it still exists.
A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering Middle Earth on the Eastward Trail (by Bill Bryson):
I waited for Sam for three-quaters of an hour, then went looking for him. Finally, I rounded a bend and there he was stumbling toward me, wild haired and nearer hysteria than I have ever seen a grown hobbitt.
It was hard to get the full story out of him in a coherent flow, but I gathered he had thrown many items from his pack over a cliff in a temper.
"What did you get rid of?" I asked, trying not to betray too much alarm.
A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering Middle Earth on the Eastward Trail (by Bill Bryson):
I waited for Sam for three-quaters of an hour, then went looking for him. Finally, I rounded a bend and there he was stumbling toward me, wild haired and nearer hysteria than I have ever seen a grown hobbitt.
It was hard to get the full story out of him in a coherent flow, but I gathered he had thrown many items from his pack over a cliff in a temper.
"What did you get rid of?" I asked, trying not to betray too much alarm.
"Heavy f*cking sh*t, that's what! The rope, the pots and pans, the little box from Galadriel, I don't know what all. F*ck!"
"The food from Farmir?"
"Flung"
"The water bottle?"
"Flung"
"The lembas?"
"Flung far!"
This was begining to sound a trifle grave...
LOTR by Dave Barry:
"Once upon a time, there was a hobbit named (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!) Frodo Baggins. He lived in Middle-Earth, where people spent a lot of time drinking ale and smoking some kind of strange weed in a pipe, which is undoubtedly why his parents gave him a name like "Frodo." ("Hey, babe, pass the bong, and turn up the Iron Butterfly... oh, and let's name the kid Frodo." "PFFFFFFFFT! Sure, sweetie... and do we have any more Doritos?").
Now, life got complicated for Frodo because of his uncle Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo. Sorry, I just like saying "Bilbo." Bilbo. Anyway, be that as it may, Bilbo.
Sorry, that won't happen again. Anyway, years before, Bilbo had traded his cow for a bunch of magic beans, climbed up a beanstalk, killed a giant, and stolen his magic ring. Ha ha! No, I'm just kidding of course- that was Rapunzel. But Bilbo got a magic ring from this guy named Gollum. Gollum was slimy, foul-smelling and lived in a cave. He was sort of like Newt Gingrich, only a little more charming. Gollum ate nothing but raw fish... which reminds me of a letter I got from Mrs. Elsie Hammerdingle of Grand Rapids, Michigan, who sent me this clip from the Daily Bugle. It says that hundreds of people in Maryland have snakehead fish coming up their toilets and biting them on the buns.
Now, clearly, this is a job for the Pentagon. As long as they're spending $5 trillion per toilet seat, they could at least invent one with heat sensors and laser guided snakehead fish killers. That way, if Gollum tried to swim up Frodo's toilet and bite his furry tushie, he'd be toast.
Bilbo. (Sorry, I couldn't help it!)
Sauron: the Toroidaly Enhanced
by James Finn Garner (author of Politically Correct Bedtime Stories)
"I have come," Frodo said. But I choose to do what I came to do. I will not cast the ring into the fire. Don't you realize Sam, that destroying the ring would render several beings non-viable? Not only is this tantamount to the loathsome death penalty, but this judgement would have been rendered without any judicial due process."
Later at the war crimes trial (set up with a representative base of all the beings of middle-earth and being fundamentally limited in punitive powers) it is realized that Sauron was really a victim. His transgressions concerning the rings of power were a direct result of the shameful treatment he had received as a convicted lieutenant of Melkor. As there was never a proper recovery program put into place, his further rebellion was judged to be an attention-getting device or even a classic cry for help.
With proper counseling and the support of his peers, Sauron eventually developed into a productive member of the middle-earth community. In his later days he was famed for selfless generosity and his self-effacing midsummer's eve parties. The one ring (not that there was any thing inherently better about this ring, it's just that everyone was so used to the name that it was never given another title) was donated to the community for the better good. A rota was developed whereby anyone so desiring could have a turn wielding it.
Aragorn never did get over the "Rightful King of Gondor" hang-up. No amount of discussion on the "Need for Democratically Elected Government" or the "Rights of the Individual," however well reasoned, could persuade him that he didn't have the right to be a dictator of the masses and a law only unto himself. Eventually, he was reduced to ranting on a low-grade lecture circuit and was an object of pity by all.
Arwen broke off the engagement with Aragorn once she realized how inflexible he had become about the whole enlightenment business. After a discreet fling with the Mouth of Sauron, she devoted her life to gender equality issues among dwarfish womyn.
__________________
I'd rather be lucky than bad.
Threadkiller, that's great! I loved the legalese one too. Great work Dopers, any more suggestions?
Must........keep......thread.......alive.......
Nigel Marvin
Hello, I’m Nigel Marvin your correspondent today for ‘Nigel’s Wild Wild World™’. And today we are really thick about it now, we are trying to bring in the notoriously deadly Nazgûl tonight. We are actually getting desperate today, the condition and the visible level was good yesterday, I don’t know what’s going on here. But we did not see one deadly Nazgûl. They’re actually being very allusive. But maybe with the help of our top cameramen, Hank Didntjaseeit, we will finally be able to film them.
We have brought in a ‘Nazgûl Expert’ to help us in the Myth of the creatures. And their favorite locations, foods, habits and activities and even some history. Meet Joe Snickeryberger, and even with all his help it, doesn’t seem to help much, since conditions are perfect and still no sign of the Nazgûl. We are actually filming in an area that is not highly populated, so that we can see the creature in all its glory and put on a ‘true’ performance.
I believe the natives of the area call it, Amon Sûl or WeatherTop. Which is located at the southern end of the Weather Hills. Joe tells us these are ancient hills that were once crowned with a huge tower that was built by one of the natives called Elendil. He says the Nazgûl are mostly ‘Night faring creatures’ about the shape of a man, but much more deadly. They stalk in packs, and appear to be on the Endangered Species List. If that’s good or bad, we don’t know for sure. Joe says their history dates back thousands of years, to a lunatic of a man that wanted ‘special pets’ he corrupted them in a way. Talk about a warped Dr. Moreau! That is if you believe ancient myth.
We should count are blessings. A few days before we came out here, October the 3rd, there was a freak natural occurrence that was pretty close to WeatherTop. It appeared that lightening was coming from the ground up. We only hope that it didn’t scare off the Nazgûl. That would really put a damper on our documentary. Are sponsors would have blown a gasket.
We will be right back though!
-break to commercial-
It is now October 6th, and its our second day of nothing. But are spirits have not failed us yet. Joe believes that the Nazgûl will be around here. The natives say ‘Black Creatures are following their prey’ around this area. So hopefully we didn’t lug out all this camera equipment for nothing. Were going to do a double check to make sure everything is set-up properly, since its mid-afternoon we don’t suspect we will see any Nazgûl.
-A few hours Pass, while the camera only records round after round of ‘Thumb-Wars’ between Joe and Nigel.-
Well, it’s Nigel again, and it appears that a few travelers have come this way, and heading up towards the Hill. A weather-beaten man, and four small children. The natives call these ‘Hobbits’. Joe thinks the name is translated to ‘Hairy footed short people’ in their native tongue. It appears they have made camp on the hill, and are telling campfire stories. While we do believe in ‘Invasion of Privacy’ we will not report back to you exactly what they’re talking about. They appear to be spooked though.
- The cold increases as darkness comes on. The sky above has cleared again and is slowly filling in with twinkling stars.-
-Silence-
- The waxing moon has climbed slowly above the hill that overshadowed them, and the stars above the hill-top faded-
Its me, Nigel, again. And I think we have something this time. If you look very closer, you will see 3 or 4 black shaped Men looking down on the travelers on the hill, just outside of the light of the fire. Even from here, we can tell their appearance is commanding and indeed scary. The sure do have the travelers spooked, that’s for sure! Whoa, what a minute! Can you hear that?
-Silence-
- A faint hiss as of venomous breath and a thin piercing chill is felt and heard throughout the area-
Yes, folks, Joe confirms that these are the deadly Nazgûl, and that their trademark ‘hiss, screech’ can not be mistaken. This is remarkable! On, no, wait right there. It appears the Nazgûl are approaching on the travelers. I take that back, there are five tall figures! Two standing on the lip of the dell, three advancing. I can almost make out their faces. Whoaaaa, it looks like on their white faces, their eyes burn with a inner fuel! Wait, here they come, they are springing on one of the Hobbits! Remember that we always let Nature take its course, it is not our place to interfere and disrupt the balance.
-You can hear Joe chant, ‘Go Hobbit Go’. And Nigel hitting him in the back of the head.-
It appears that the hobbit as disappeared! What a defence mechanism, it appears he can burrow. It doesn’t seem that the Nazgûl are tricked though! What, a minute, it appears it has worked. It seems the Nazgûl are retreating. Well, that was quite an experience. We have finally filmed the Nazgûl in their natural habitat. Isn’t that right Hank?
-Silence-
-Break too commercial-
Frodo Irwin's Dangerous Creatures of Middle Earth
G’day folks, I’m Frodo Irwin. I’m here to tell you about my trip to see Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures.
The first bit of dangerous wildlife I saw was Old Man Willow. Me and me mates were near to loosing it here with the Shire’s most dangerous tree. No problem though, some local abo called Tom came along and got us out of the woods.
Then me and me mates met some Nazgools. Pretty scary buggers they were too. Even though they let you get close, they don’t like being handled. Our abo guide, Aragorn, told me to be careful. In fact one bit me, I must have been a bit rough with it. Anyway, the Nazgool poison was sucked out by an old abo cousin of Aragorn’s called Elrond. Me and me mates stayed at his place while I got back on me feet. Nice guy, we shared a few tinnies and I got to know another old geezer called Gandalf. He told us that a Balrog lived in a cave nearby. They are near the top of Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures list and this one wasn’t too far away.
Bonzer! I had to see if I could get close to one of those. Me and me mates got some abos together as porters and went off with Gandalf and Aragorn. We found the cave OK, but some sort of snake in a local pool had a go at me. No problem though, the locals got me away. Now you know why I always employ native guides. Anyway, we found the Balrog. It was a big bugger. Even Gandalf was impressed. He said he’d never seen one as big before. It was a bit stroppy, so Gandalf stayed behind to make sure it calmed down while Aragorn guided us out of the cave.
We stayed a for a bit at the Lorien Riverside Hotel and Resort. Best tucker in Middle Earth. Did a bit of tree climbing and fishing and nearly scored with the hotel’s owner. She was a tasty Sheila but a bit tall for me.
Aragorn had arranged a white water canoeing trip so we went off. Not much in the way of Dangerous Creatures but a nice boat trip. No barramundi though, so the barbies weren’t as good as the ones we had back in Queensland.
Me and me best mate Sam decided to split after the canoeing. I hired another local, Gollum, who reckoned he knew where Middle Earth’s biggest spider lived. Double bonzer! The spider must be one of Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures. So we went of alone, with only the cameraman and producer. I even had to do me own sound checks! We did a bit of swamp crossing and mountain climbing and came to the hole of Shelob. I went straight in and saw the spider. It was as big as Gollum promised. I poked it with a stick to see if it was awake and it bit me. Bit of a mistake there and me mate Sam had to kill it. Shame that. Anyway, I soon got better and with Sam and Gollum, we talked about where to go next. The producer had heard that Middle Earth’s biggest volcano was nearby. Not a creature but worth a decko. Anyway, Gollum knew the way and took us there. Strewth it was big bugger, lots of fire and stuff. I noticed that Gollum had been eyeing my signet ring. Before I could stop him he grabbed it and bugger me if he didn’t bite my finger off! Strewth! I pushed the little runt away and he fell down a crack in the mountain. Never saw him again, don’t want to either. Anyway, me mate Sam put a plaster on me finger’s stump and we went back.
So, here I am, ready to get the next ship out of Middle Earth. Me best mate Sam has decided to stay, he’s got off with one of the locals but the tasty Sheila from the Lorien Hotel and Resort is coming with me. It’s a long boat trip and I bet I can find a ladder…
The wheels are starting to come off...
Re: Frodo Irwin's Dangerous Creatures of Middle Earth
quote:
Originally posted by Go alien
G’day folks, I’m Frodo Irwin. I’m here to tell you about my trip to see Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures.
The first bit of dangerous wildlife I saw was Old Man Willow. Me and me mates were near to loosing it here with the Shire’s most dangerous tree. No problem though, some local abo called Tom came along and got us out of the woods.
Then me and me mates met some Nazgools. Pretty scary buggers they were too. Even though they let you get close, they don’t like being handled. Our abo guide, Aragorn, told me to be careful. In fact one bit me, I must have been a bit rough with it. Anyway, the Nazgool poison was sucked out by an old abo cousin of Aragorn’s called Elrond. Me and me mates stayed at his place while I got back on me feet. Nice guy, we shared a few tinnies and I got to know another old geezer called Gandalf. He told us that a Balrog lived in a cave nearby. They are near the top of Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures list and this one wasn’t too far away.
Bonzer! I had to see if I could get close to one of those. Me and me mates got some abos together as porters and went off with Gandalf and Aragorn. We found the cave OK, but some sort of snake in a local pool had a go at me. No problem though, the locals got me away. Now you know why I always employ native guides. Anyway, we found the Balrog. It was a big bugger. Even Gandalf was impressed. He said he’d never seen one as big before. It was a bit stroppy, so Gandalf stayed behind to make sure it calmed down while Aragorn guided us out of the cave.
We stayed a for a bit at the Lorien Riverside Hotel and Resort. Best tucker in Middle Earth. Did a bit of tree climbing and fishing and nearly scored with the hotel’s owner. She was a tasty Sheila but a bit tall for me.
Aragorn had arranged a white water canoeing trip so we went off. Not much in the way of Dangerous Creatures but a nice boat trip. No barramundi though, so the barbies weren’t as good as the ones we had back in Queensland.
Me and me best mate Sam decided to split after the canoeing. I hired another local, Gollum, who reckoned he knew where Middle Earth’s biggest spider lived. Double bonzer! The spider must be one of Middle Earth’s Most Dangerous Creatures. So we went of alone, with only the cameraman and producer. I even had to do me own sound checks! We did a bit of swamp crossing and mountain climbing and came to the hole of Shelob. I went straight in and saw the spider. It was as big as Gollum promised. I poked it with a stick to see if it was awake and it bit me. Bit of a mistake there and me mate Sam had to kill it. Shame that. Anyway, I soon got better and with Sam and Gollum, we talked about where to go next. The producer had heard that Middle Earth’s biggest volcano was nearby. Not a creature but worth a decko. Anyway, Gollum knew the way and took us there. Strewth it was big bugger, lots of fire and stuff. I noticed that Gollum had been eyeing my signet ring. Before I could stop him he grabbed it and bugger me if he didn’t bite my finger off! Strewth! I pushed the little runt away and he fell down a crack in the mountain. Never saw him again, don’t want to either. Anyway, me mate Sam put a plaster on me finger’s stump and we went back.
So, here I am, ready to get the next ship out of Middle Earth. Me best mate Sam has decided to stay, he’s got off with one of the locals but the tasty Sheila from the Lorien Hotel and Resort is coming with me. It’s a long boat trip and I bet I can find a ladder…
Frank Miller anyone
I can't believe no one's done an A. A. Milne version yet!
Frodo Baggins lives by himself in a hobbit hole in Hundred Acre Shire under the name of Underhill. It means he had the name over the door in gold letters, and lived under it....
quote:
Originally posted by Eegba
Suprised someone else hasn't come up with this one:
"What's it going to be then, eh?"
There was me, that is Frodo, and my three droogs, that is Merry, Pippin, and Sam, Sam being really dim, and we sat in the Prancing Pony making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard...
That's all I've got today. Someone with more talent can continue it.
Suggestion: LOTR a` la
V.C. Andrews? The Amityville series? Ursula Le Guin? Or - I just had a horrible thought - Jean M. Auel!
No, a George Alec Effinger rendition would make much lighter reading.
Oooo, someone has to do Harry Turtledove.
How about Steven King? I understand he is a fan of the original...
OK, Stephen King it is.
----------
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
--William Blake
Come on, baby, light my fire
--The Doors
1. Gandalf Takes A Fall
Standing there, in the dark, Frodo Baggins reckoned he knew a lot about fear. He had begun to find out about it after The Party (and everyone said it that way, The Party, so you could hear the capital letters), when he had been come into possession of a certain ring, a very precious one, oh yes friends and neighbors.
And when he became aware that there really were shambling dark riders that came a-hunting Hobbits--that they were real, not just stories told by firelight to scare young Hobbits in their dark holes, why, then, fear had become his constant companion, closer even than Sam. Sam, who stood beside him in the dark with the others as the sound of distant drums echoed crazily through the caverns, sounding for all the world like a demented rock and roll band.
But now, here in Moria, the true measure of fear was upon him and he felt it like the icy breath of a barrow-wight on the nape of his neck, obscenely familiar.
Even Gandalf was scared, you could see it in the whiteness of his knuckles as he gripped his staff. And if Gandalf was scared, then you could be pretty fucking sure that some bad shit was going to go down. Because Gandalf was their leader. He bound the Fellowship together with his friendship and his firm voice (only hadn't he said something once about stuttering as a kid?) and yet here he was with that look in his eyes that said, Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ, thought Gandalf. It's here, isn't it? Here. He could feel its presence, some malign thing. It wouldn't be long now. He could sense the
(balrog)
creature rising slowly from the slime of the pit, then more steadily. Then it was coming fast.
Then it came.
It was a ravening beast, manlike, deep flaming blackness (and were there wings or not? Gandalf thought crazily) and then it was upon him with its whip and flame and fear. He met it with all his power and as it struggle with him, he felt the bridge begin to give underneath them, and he had time to yell "Fly, you fools," and think, oh shit, and then he was gone.
Into the dark.
quote:
Originally posted by Kantalooppi
Oooo, someone has to do Harry Turtledove.
If...
If Jordan had wrote wrote it... it would be 10 books long, and yet unfished with each release becoming slower, and possible death e're its ending
quote:
Originally posted by Hoops
Something fecking brilliant!
Dear Abby:
Please help! I’m so turned-around I don’t know what to do with myself, and it’s all because of a squabble over a family heirloom.
My dear old uncle gave me a simple golden ring some years back, and I’ve treasured it for sentimental reasons. But now other people have shown up claiming that they own the ring! The worst is this nasty man (I’ll call him “Ron.”) who doesn’t even live around here. He’s from Mordor, wherever that is. He’s sent several collection agents to claim the ring, and I get the feeling they might even resort to violence! (Although, to be fair, they haven’t made any specific threats. They just sniff and hiss.) They got to be so annoying that just for some peace and quiet and went on a short vacation with a few friends.
Then, just as soon as I get to the B&B, I find out everybody in Eriador is gossiping about this ring _ dwarves, elves, even this raggedy old man who goes around butting into other people’s affairs and claiming to be a wizard. Of all the nerve! They tell me another fellow wants the ring, too. Some grubby, little man with an Irish name. Collum, I believe it was.
And here’s the topper, Abby: All these supposed “friends” are telling me to just throw the ring away! That’s right. They say I should walk halfway across Middle Earth and throw the ring into some crack just to keep Ron and Collum from getting it. Sounds to me like cutting off my finger to spite my hand.
What should I do?
Signed,
Bewildered at Bag-End.
Dear Bewildered:
I say your nosy friends deserve 20 lashes with a wet balrog’s whip! Who are they to tell you what to do with your precious ring. But Ron does sound persistent. Just to settle matters, I suggest you trade the ring to him for a few barrels of pipe-weed and a reeking dwimmerlaik. What harm could it do?
Fellowship of the Ring, as written by a Lamer
Fellowship of the Ring
As written by a Lamer:
there was this big fight and this big guy lost his hand and exploded and stuff this guy took the ring and lost it and the ring got into gandalfs hand and gave it to froddo so froddo took teh ring and went a hole buncha places like this wierd area were theese big black guys in capes atakked him and stabed him with a sord wich made him get real sick and stuff and had to be cured by thees gay peeps with big ears and stuff and kicked froddo out of the town which relly sucked and all becuz he had to go with the drwarf underground and gandalf died and froddo went to this volcayno where he had to destory the ring next up part 2 teh towers!!!!1
I have laughed more at this one thread than I have laughed at anything in months!
But still, I cannot believe that nobody has done this one yet.
------------
The difficulty in selecting material in which the reading public might show interest, the problem as a chronicler has been choosing those adventures which most brilliantly illustrate the deep knowledge and remarkable talents shown by my illustrious friend, Frodo Baggins of 221B Bag End.
I find, according to my notes, that it was a Wednesday in September in '19, that I chanced to be sitting in the parlour reading the Red Book of Westmarch while Baggins, in one of his odd humors, handled a large and battered felt hat. After some time, he tossed it over to me.
"Well, Gamgee," said he, gravely. "Here is the consequence of our ramble across the Water into Buckland yesterday. We have spent an instructive afternoon investigating my new digs in Crickhollow, but in our absence have missed a caller. An agitated one, I should say: in his haste he has left behind this most excellent hat."
"It is a pity we missed him," said I, examining it. "There is no way of knowing who it might have been. He left no calling-card?"
"I feel sure when the gentleman returns we shall have no difficulty in identifying him," Baggins said airily. "Can you not find any indications as to his identity?"
I knew my companion's methods and I did my best to imitate them. "It is a large hat," I ventured.
"Indeed, that is the most telling point of the matter," said Baggins. "Note the wide brim and exceptionally large and pointed crown. Such a hat would not fit you or I. The man who wore this hat must be at least four ells, if I am not mistaken, much into the manufacture of fireworks, well-travelled, gray-haired, and carries a well-worn wooden staff."
"My dear Baggins!" I cried. "It is quite beyond belief! I believe you are some kind of wizard!"
"Not I, Gamgee," said Baggins, peering through the curtains of the bowed window. "But unless I am much mistaken, there is one upon our doorstep to retrieve his hat."
Billy the page let in the visitor, who stood in the hall of Bag End, all in a gray cloak. He seemed to me as a large weathered aspen, tall and wizened with the weight of years, and had a craggy, lined face. He peered down at us with a desperate, haunted gaze, as one with a story of such horror and grotesquerie that I thrilled to imagine it.
"Have a seat, dear sir," said Baggins, gesturing with a pipe toward the basket chair. "This is my gardener, Dr. Gamgee, before whom you may speak as to me."
"My name is Gandalf," said the visitor, with a slight look of apprehension in my direction. "I am one of the four Istari, and I am at my wits' end, Mr. Baggins! I only hope you might help me with a devilish problem! It is quite beyond me or my order, so I come at last to you for the answer I must have."
"Istari?" said I, with a look at Baggins.
His eyes half-lidded, Baggins nodded. "One of the wizards who came to Middle-Earth in the year 1000 of the Third Age," he murmured. "You will find it filed under G in my pigeon-holes. Pray continue, Gandalf."
"Well, sir," Gandalf went on hurriedly, "I have been searching for a lost heirloom of magic which vanished on the Gladden Fields after the battle on the plains of Dargorlad. It is a ring, a small one, but one which my order is seeking. We know it was carried by the last King of Gondor, the heir Isildur, but I believe after that it has simply vanished from Middle-Earth! I am quite beside myself, Mr. Baggins, and you are my only hope. Can you help me?"
Baggins steepled his fingers together, his eyes closed. "Can you describe the Ring?"
"It is a plain gold band, without ornament whatsoever," said our mysterious visitor. "It is quite an ordinary ring, but of great sentimental value. I should be most appreciative if you could shed any light on my little problem."
"Of course," said Baggins. "Do you have any further information that might be of use in this investigation, however trifling?"
Gandalf hesitated. "It may be of no consequence."
Baggins opened his eyes. "It is upon the observation of details that the practise of genius relies," said he, sententiously.
"I may have overheard someone in connexion with the Ring," said the stranger, "give the name Shire. I decided to come to you at once."
"I see," said Baggins. "And was this informant an ancient Stoor perhaps two ells in height, with lanky hair and a bedraggled countenance?"
"Yes, that would be the very same," said the visitor, excited. "I see you are the very man who can solve my problem!"
"Quite," said Baggins. "I believe I can have this minor detail brought to a successful conclusion in a few days. Call again in two days and I'm sure I shall have your answer. And pray this time do not forget your hat."
"Thank you, Mr. Baggins," said our visitor, clutching the hat to his chest, and when he had been shown the door, Baggins sat down again at the deal-topped table, his brow clouded.
"Devilry, Gamgee!" was all he said.
In a quarter of an hour he rose to his feet and reached for his jacket. "Have you your service revolver, Gamgee?" said he.
"I have a stout walking-stick," I replied, meekly. "This is Middle-Earth, not London. Firearms have yet to be invented."
"A walking stick is just as well," said Baggins. "We shall have to make a little tramp through Hobbiton--perhaps as far as Rivendell. I suspect it may be dangerous, old man, so if you do not feel up to the challenge of such a journey--"
My stubborn streak reasserted itself. "I'm game," said I.
"Good hobbit," said Baggins, and his grey eyes flashed. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you more about this case at present, but our mysterious visitor was not the wizard Gandalf, but a clever disguise."
"Good gracious!" said I. "But how can you be certain?"
"Our visitor's hairs were white, as you must have observed, not gray," Baggins said. "In addition, he made a fatal mistake when he spoke of the four Istari, for in truth there are five wizards. I do not know what has become of the real Gandalf, if that is so, but we have no time to lose."
"Surely, Baggins," I said, and my spine tingled with horror. "You don't believe that Gandalf is a prisoner!"
"It is a capital mistake to theorise without data, Gamgee," Baggins said. "But allow me to summon a hack, and let us make first for Bree, where a little something nutritious from Butterbur's would not be out of order."
"The Fellowship of the Ring" as written by A.C. Doyle
FISH
__________________
·´¯`·.¸¸..><((((º>.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸><((((º>¸.·´¯`·.¸. , .
I have laughed more at this one thread than I have laughed at anything in months!
But still, I cannot believe that nobody has done this one yet.
------------
The difficulty in selecting material in which the reading public might show interest, the problem as a chronicler has been choosing those adventures which most brilliantly illustrate the deep knowledge and remarkable talents shown by my illustrious friend, Frodo Baggins of 221B Bag End.
I find, according to my notes, that it was a Wednesday in September in '19, that I chanced to be sitting in the parlour reading the Red Book of Westmarch while Baggins, in one of his odd humors, handled a large and battered felt hat. After some time, he tossed it over to me.
"Well, Gamgee," said he, gravely. "Here is the consequence of our ramble across the Water into Buckland yesterday. We have spent an instructive afternoon investigating my new digs in Crickhollow, but in our absence have missed a caller. An agitated one, I should say: in his haste he has left behind this most excellent hat."
"It is a pity we missed him," said I, examining it. "There is no way of knowing who it might have been. He left no calling-card?"
"I feel sure when the gentleman returns we shall have no difficulty in identifying him," Baggins said airily. "Can you not find any indications as to his identity?"
I knew my companion's methods and I did my best to imitate them. "It is a large hat," I ventured.
"Indeed, that is the most telling point of the matter," said Baggins. "Note the wide brim and exceptionally large and pointed crown. Such a hat would not fit you or I. The man who wore this hat must be at least four ells, if I am not mistaken, much into the manufacture of fireworks, well-travelled, gray-haired, and carries a well-worn wooden staff."
"My dear Baggins!" I cried. "It is quite beyond belief! I believe you are some kind of wizard!"
"Not I, Gamgee," said Baggins, peering through the curtains of the bowed window. "But unless I am much mistaken, there is one upon our doorstep to retrieve his hat."
Billy the page let in the visitor, who stood in the hall of Bag End, all in a gray cloak. He seemed to me as a large weathered aspen, tall and wizened with the weight of years, and had a craggy, lined face. He peered down at us with a desperate, haunted gaze, as one with a story of such horror and grotesquerie that I thrilled to imagine it.
"Have a seat, dear sir," said Baggins, gesturing with a pipe toward the basket chair. "This is my gardener, Dr. Gamgee, before whom you may speak as to me."
"My name is Gandalf," said the visitor, with a slight look of apprehension in my direction. "I am one of the four Istari, and I am at my wits' end, Mr. Baggins! I only hope you might help me with a devilish problem! It is quite beyond me or my order, so I come at last to you for the answer I must have."
"Istari?" said I, with a look at Baggins.
His eyes half-lidded, Baggins nodded. "One of the wizards who came to Middle-Earth in the year 1000 of the Third Age," he murmured. "You will find it filed under G in my pigeon-holes. Pray continue, Gandalf."
"Well, sir," Gandalf went on hurriedly, "I have been searching for a lost heirloom of magic which vanished on the Gladden Fields after the battle on the plains of Dargorlad. It is a ring, a small one, but one which my order is seeking. We know it was carried by the last King of Gondor, the heir Isildur, but I believe after that it has simply vanished from Middle-Earth! I am quite beside myself, Mr. Baggins, and you are my only hope. Can you help me?"
Baggins steepled his fingers together, his eyes closed. "Can you describe the Ring?"
"It is a plain gold band, without ornament whatsoever," said our mysterious visitor. "It is quite an ordinary ring, but of great sentimental value. I should be most appreciative if you could shed any light on my little problem."
"Of course," said Baggins. "Do you have any further information that might be of use in this investigation, however trifling?"
Gandalf hesitated. "It may be of no consequence."
Baggins opened his eyes. "It is upon the observation of details that the practise of genius relies," said he, sententiously.
"I may have overheard someone in connexion with the Ring," said the stranger, "give the name Shire. I decided to come to you at once."
"I see," said Baggins. "And was this informant an ancient Stoor perhaps two ells in height, with lanky hair and a bedraggled countenance?"
"Yes, that would be the very same," said the visitor, excited. "I see you are the very man who can solve my problem!"
"Quite," said Baggins. "I believe I can have this minor detail brought to a successful conclusion in a few days. Call again in two days and I'm sure I shall have your answer. And pray this time do not forget your hat."
"Thank you, Mr. Baggins," said our visitor, clutching the hat to his chest, and when he had been shown the door, Baggins sat down again at the deal-topped table, his brow clouded.
"Devilry, Gamgee!" was all he said.
In a quarter of an hour he rose to his feet and reached for his jacket. "Have you your service revolver, Gamgee?" said he.
"I have a stout walking-stick," I replied, meekly. "This is Middle-Earth, not London. Firearms have yet to be invented."
"A walking stick is just as well," said Baggins. "We shall have to make a little tramp through Hobbiton--perhaps as far as Rivendell. I suspect it may be dangerous, old man, so if you do not feel up to the challenge of such a journey--"
My stubborn streak reasserted itself. "I'm game," said I.
"Good hobbit," said Baggins, and his grey eyes flashed. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you more about this case at present, but our mysterious visitor was not the wizard Gandalf, but a clever disguise."
"Good gracious!" said I. "But how can you be certain?"
"Our visitor's hairs were white, as you must have observed, not gray," Baggins said. "In addition, he made a fatal mistake when he spoke of the four Istari, for in truth there are five wizards. I do not know what has become of the real Gandalf, if that is so, but we have no time to lose."
"Surely, Baggins," I said, and my spine tingled with horror. "You don't believe that Gandalf is a prisoner!"
"It is a capital mistake to theorise without data, Gamgee," Baggins said. "But allow me to summon a hack, and let us make first for Bree, where a little something nutritious from Butterbur's would not be out of order."
"The Fellowship of the Ring" as written by A.C. Doyle
FISH
__________________
·´¯`·.¸¸..><((((º>.·´¯`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸><((((º>¸.·´¯`·.¸. , .
Excellent, Fish, especially the firearms bit!
After writing the A.C. Doyle last night, the following style occurred to me. Some of you may recognize bits and pieces of "The Ballad of the Republic" (commonly known as "Casey at the Bat"). If you haven't read "The Two Towers," then what follows may come as a surprise.
-------------
The Ballad of the Two Towers
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Fellowship nine that day,
The Uruk-hai had ambushed them, though many did they slay.
And then when Boromir confessed he’d tried to seize the Ring,
A sickly silence fell upon the heir of Gondor’s king.
The Elf and Dwarf and Man sought out the Orcs afoot. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the hobbit breast;
They thought if only Frodo could but get to Orodruin,
We’d put up even money Barad-dur would fall in ruin.
But marsh obstructed Frodo as did also Emyn Muil,
And the former was a mire and the latter was a hill,
So across the stricken landscape did they strike in winter’s gloom,
For there seemed no chance of Frodo’s getting to the Cracks of Doom.
But Gollum guided Frodo, to the wonderment of all,
And Sam the sturdy hobbit never let his master fall.
And though the gates were closed before the plain Ephel Duath,
The hobbits ventured further south to fair Osgiliath.
Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty hoom;
It rumbled through the forest, it rattled in the coombe;
It knocked upon Zirak-Zigil and echoed on the sward;
For Fangorn and his Ents had arrived at Isengard.
There was ease in Fangorn’s manner as he strode into his place;
There was pride in Fangorn’s bearing and a frown on Fangorn’s face.
And then, responding to the years of Saruman’s treacheries,
The Ents destroyed the castle with the strength of mighty trees.
Ten thousand orcs attacked the ancient fastness of Helm’s Deep;
A thousand men defended from the walls of rocky keep.
Then while the writhing multitudes of Orcs assailed the breach,
Defiance gleamed in Strider’s eye as he surveyed them each.
And now the armor-covered goblins paused to look him on,
As Aragorn stood watching for the changes of the dawn.
Below the wall the goblins jeered and asked the Ranger "Why?
We do not stop for dawn, we are the fighting Uruk-hai!"
From the army of the goblins there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the waves on a stern and distant shore.
For Erkenbrand and Gandalf saved the day at first cockcrow,
And the Uruk-hai were driven from the lands of Dunharrow.
With a glow of blazing ivory great Gandalf’s visage shone;
He rode to visit Orthanc with the leaders of Rohan;
He parleyed with the wizard, but Saruman tried lies;
"Your staff is broken," Gandalf said, and cast him from the Wise.
"You truant!" cried the maddened Dwarf, and spied the wayward pair:
The Hobbits captured by the Orcs near shade of Tol Brandir.
Forty leagues and five the trio chased, but then forsook--
Yet here were Merry Brandybuck and foolish Pippin Took.
The fight is gone from Saruman, his teeth still cleched in hate;
He throws out his palantir and he broods upon his fate.
And Gandalf rides with Pippin to the Tower of the Guard,
And Rohan musters forces, and Gondor battles hard.
Oh, somewhere here in Middle-Earth the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
But up in Cirith Ungol, up in the Spider’s Pass,
There is no joy for Frodo; he’s been poisoned in the neck.
FISH
Wow, look we're nearly at the spooky haunted 'Mount Doom'
Merry - Hey look its my uncle
Uncle - Hi kids, im glad your here, theres rumours that the old spooky ghost of 'Sauron' is roaming the hills
Sam and Ben the pony - Sauron, like yikes
Frodo - sounds to me like a mystery to be solved
Pippin and Merry - YEAh
Frodo - look a clue, hmm a blue pointy hat, i wonder whose it is
Gandalf - i think you'll find thats mine little hobbit
Hobbits - Wow hi Gandalf, what are you doing here
Gandalf - oh erm, well i heard about Sauron, so i came to help *looks about shiftily*
Ben and Sam - Say gandalf have you got any lembas snacks?
Gandalf - dont you two think of anything else?!
Merry - look whats that?
Frodo - looks like Sauron, hey and where did Gandalf go? Sauron must have taken him, thats the only possible explanation.
Frodo - have a look at this gang, and old map to the most expensive plots in mordor, all recently sold to one Uncle Took.
Merry - but why would my uncle want plots in Mordor? - it doesn;lt make sense ..... Uncle why are you buying plots in mordor?
Uncle - erm, well to help out a friend
Merry - if your really my uncle, whats your real name?
Uncle - ermm, ahhh rumbled
Frodo - get him
HOBBITS POUNCE ON FAKE UNCLE AND TIE HIM UP
Frodo - now to see who you really are
REMOVES MASK
Everyone - WHY ITS GANDALF
Gandalf - i would have gotten away with it as well if it wasn;t for you meddling hobbits!!!!
Frodo - you see Gandalf made up the mystery about Sauron to scare everyone off, then he arranged for us to come here so we could confirm the mystery, but really he had disposed of Sauron and was turning Mordor in to prime real estate with waterfrontage on the Isen.
Merry - hey wheres ben and Sam
Sam and Ben - well we might as well eat the farmer maggots crop now! --sam - wise - ga- GEEE
A tribute to the brilliance of Scooby Doo - sorry guys that really wasn;t that good, but i least i tried.
Frodo had been born in the Shire. His uncle, Bilbo, was half a Baggins, and his idea of a good joke was to forget to tell people that he was also half Took. "I'm just an ordinary guy who enjoys smoking my pipe and going on short hiking trips", he would declare, and then he would interrupt his second breakfreast to run off an help a band a dwarves recover their treasure from an evil dragon. "I'm a staid, boring person who enjoys tea-time with friends", he would state, moments before vanishing into thin air during his 111th birthday party. Afterwards, when Bilbo had left for Rivendell, he had promised to put all of his affairs in order so that Frodo wouldn't have any troublesome problems to deal with, and had then given Frodo the One Ring of Power.
Growing up in the Shire, Frodo had always had trouble drawing attention to himself. Some Hobbits live lives of endless tea-parties and gardening and others see to have those lives thrust upon them. With Frodo, it had been both. Overshadowed by his more famous uncle, nobody ever seemed to take any interest in him.
And that was the state of his life when the Wizard Gandalf showed up in the Shire. "I'm looking for somebody who's brave enough and strong enough to take the One Ring to Mt. Doom in the center of Sauron's Kingdom and cast it into the fire", Gandalf said.
"Well, I'm just a small Hobbit who's never gone on a quest or done anything like that", Frodo replied.
"In that case, it would be a lot easier for you to hide from the Nazgul and other enemy spies. You're just the right person for the job."
And that was how Frodo was chosen to be the Ringbearer.
-Joseph Heller
Hoops -- terrific job with the Stephen King. (balrog) -- tee hee.
from Encyclopedia Baggins and the Case of the Purloined Palantir by Donald J. Sobol
"...you'll go by the name Underhill, and meet me at the Prancing Pony in Bree."
Sam looked frightened. "Won't you be coming with us, Mr. Gandalf? We're not supposed to leave Hobbitville on our own."
Mr. Gandalf shook his head. "No, I have to visit Mr. Saruman over at Isengard. He said that he's seen orc uprisings around Isengard and Helm's Deep, and even legions of orcs making preparations around Minas Morgul! There've even been troops coming up from the south, so you might even get to see an Oliphant, Sam!"
"An Oliphant! That'd be swell!"
Mr. Gandalf smiled, but looked more grave as he went on. "We'll need to warn the people of Minas Tirith that an attack may be iminent, and he'll know best what to do. You boys remember to travel only and night and avoid the main roads. And whatever you do, don't hitch-hike. It's very dangerous!"
Mr. Gandalf gathered his staff and hat, then headed towards the door. Suddenly, Frodo "Encyclopedia" Baggins stood. "I'd wait to take that trip to Isengard, Mr. Gandalf. At least, not until you've arranged for a rescue from your friends the giant eagles."
"But why?"
"Because I believe Mr. Saruman is a traitor, working for Mr. Sauron himself! He'll capture you and hold you atop the tower while he builds an army of Uruk-Hai to fight for his new master, pursuing you into the mines of Moria where you'll have to battle to the death with a Balrog, then sending those armies to battle the humans, elves, and dwarves at Helm's Deep and then the Field of Cormallen until Sam and I can take the Ring to Mount Doom where we'll be betrayed by Gollum who'll destroy the Ring and Sauron's power once and for all, at least until we return here to Hobbitville and find it under Mr. Saruman's evil grip and have to defeat him ourselves and then journey to the west with you and Galadriel and Elrond and Bilbo."
How did Encyclopedia Baggins know?
Mr. Gandalf sat with Mr. Aragorn and Mr. Baggins and the boys in the dining hall of Rivendell, enjoying the last of a great feast. "I hate to think what would've happened if I had gone off to meet with Mr. Saruman! But I must know, Frodo -- how did you know he'd turned traitor?"
"I began to suspect when you kept talking about Radagast -- I mean, Mr. Brown -- when nobody else has ever seen or heard of him. But what settled it was Mr. Saruman's words himself! How would he know that Oliphants are amassing around Minas Morgul unless he'd seen them himself? Oliphants only live in the southern regions!"
Mr. Gandalf smiled as the truth dawned on him. "I see! So the only way he would've known would be to have seen it himself, and the only way to see it is through a palantir! Great detective work, Frodo!"
Sam shook his head. "Well, I'll go without seeing an Oliphant if it means I can have more of this terrific food! I'm having seconds!"
What, no link for the myriad Monty Python versions?
Hamsters ate this last week and I haven't had the heart to type it again since then, but here goes:
Last week on Fellowship Island: The seemingly unshakable Hobbit Alliance sealed the fate of bossy Gandalf at the Elven Council. Voted out 7-2, the wily wizard was thrown off the Bridge of Khazad Dhum with a Balrog.
Stay tuned for the excitement this week...
Frodo: I think it's clear we have to vote for Gimli. He's been shirking his share of the chores, and I don't think he's ever fished before, no matter what he claims.
Sam: I'm with Master Frodo. I think the Dwarf's got it in for you, Pippin. He's got the elf on a short leash, but we may be able to swing the Men to us.
Pippen: Drat, if only I didn't already have that vote against me from Fatty Bolger, even a tie would be ok.
Merry: Shhh!! here comes Elf-boy.
Legolas: Greetings my friends... I just wanted to let you know that it may be in your best interest to vote for Boromir. I've seen him looking rather greedily at the Immunity Ring. Gimli and I are thinking he's too strong to keep around. Again, just letting you know...
<later>
Saruman: "That's 2 votes Pippin, 4 votes Boromir.... The next vote is: Boromir. Boromir, the Fellowship has spoken. Kill him, my fighting Uruk-hai!"
Next week: The surviving members of the fellowship are split into three tribes and sent to seperate campsites in the south. How will they react in close quarters when tensions run high?
[wipes coffee from monitor]
*ahem*
Edgar Allan Poe
And now was acknowledged the presence of the Dark Lord. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the Eldar and the Free Folk in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the White Tree went out with that of the last of the Free. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Will of Sauron held illimitable dominion over all.
The Nano Ring, by Peter F. Hamilton
Frodo had inherited the device. It was the original SR001 model, made in the technomagical laboratory of Sauron Industries, and the most powerful of the nano rings. Earlier models, such as the HR009’s and DR007’s had been built by the combined team of Sauron Industries and Celebrimbor Research. CR had gone on to make the ER003’s, with an in-built genetic pattern matching capability limiting their effectiveness to Elves and minor demi-gods. Unfortunately, CR had used sub-molecular patternform techniques developed by Sauron Industries, little realising that these had trapdoors, designed by SI patternform programmers, that allowed later nano rings, such as the SR001, to assume command and control functions. Even so, these devices were powerful and much sought after by specialists and while the SR001 was lost and inoperative, the ER003’s were much used.
Gandalf was a Maiar combat operative, or Istari, with specialist mini-people knowledge and enhanced firepower capabilities. When he discovered what Frodo had, he sent Frodo and a support team of dietary consumption specialists (a.k.a. “hobbits”) to take the SR001 to the remote mountain magical-industrial complex of Rivendell Life Sciences, where the Elvish researchers working for Elrond, chief executive and main stockholder in Rivendell Life Sciences, would develop a policy for dealing with it. Gandalf would travel separately, relying on his personal bio-transport unit, Shadowfax, to get him there.
Frodo and hobbits encountered a number of Sauron Industries’ biomagical weapon systems on the way. Some, like the mutant lignin life form living in the Old Forest, were very early models, dating back to SI’s predecessors MorgothCorp and Angmar Biomagic. Others were SI’s own creations. Deadliest were the Nearly Autonomous Zoö-Genetically Upgraded Lifeforms, or NAZGULs. These were sentient biomagical constructs, based on human DNA, equipped with visible and IR radiation detectors, as well as…
<many pages of design specifications for NAZGULs, ORCs (Opponent Repression Construct), WARGs (Wolf, Augmented Rideable Grade) and other Middle Earth creatures later…>
… “Damn,” said Aragorn, as he examined Frodo’s wound. “Looks like you’ve been infected by a synthetic virus of some sort.”
“What do you mean?” asked Frodo. “He stabbed me with a dagger and the point broke.”
“Yes, but the dagger was just the insertion device. The tip was designed to break off and infect you with the virus.”
Aragorn checked his diagnostic kit’s readouts. The kit recognised the virus but since it was so old, a Gondor SX004a, standard issue to Gondoran squaddies three hundred years ago, Aragorn knew it could only delay, not cure the infection. Frodo’s life signs did not look good – raised heart and respiration rates, low blood glycogen levels, fluctuating core body temperature – suggesting the virus was acting quickly.
“It’s a mutated retrovirus, developed by Sauron Industries from earlier MorgothCorp models,” Aragorn told Frodo. “Basically, the virus re-writes the genetic code in cells of the hypothalamus, making you more susceptible to external suggestions.”…
<… the reader yawned. The technobabble was getting to him. If there were too many descriptions of exotic, imaginary gadgets and the book would be closed, for good…>
… Elrond, CEO of Rivendell Life Sciences made the keynote speech at the conference. He presented the basic options open to the opponents of SI’s plan for corporate dominance. Input from Gandalf and the RLS special projects team contributed to the final plan.
Frodo would go to Mordor, SI’s technology park and use the powerful Orodruin geothermal furnace to destroy the SR001. Frodo accepted the mission. A combat team would escort him. It consisted of Aragorn, special forces operatives seconded from Gondor, Erebor and Mirkwood and the dietary consumption specialists. Gandalf would be OC with Aragorn as his XO.
Frodo was given a suit of KDC308v combat armour. The suit, developed by the now defunct Khazad Dynamics armament works, was made out of MITHRIL (Micro Injected Titanium High Resistance Integrated Links). It was one of Middle Earth’s best pieces of kit. He was also given a Standard Target Identification Neo-Glaive or STING personal weapon, with special circuitry to detect any system showing Sauron Industries’ technomagic signature.
Aragorn had his own personal weapon, an ANDURIL (Anti Nano DNA …
<… the reader jerked awake. Shame, he thought, once he had gathered his thoughts. Nice plot but the mock technology was getting in the way. He closed the book and looked for something else to read…>
An excerpt from Samuel Beckett's, "Waiting for Frodo"
Sam: Come on, let's leave this place.
Merry: We can't.
Sam: Why not?
Merry: We're waiting for Frodo.
Sam: Ah! (Pause) You're sure it was here?
Merry: What?
Sam: That we were to wait.
Merry: He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Are there any others?
Sam: No, they were all torn down by Saruman. What is it?
Merry: I don't know. An Ent.
Sam: I don't see any leaves.
Merry: It must be dead.
HAH! I love the beckett one... The thread lives again...
H. P. Lovecraft, anyone?
Lovecraft' s been done. Check the first page.
quote:
Originally posted by Super Gnat
H. P. Lovecraft, anyone?
quote:
Originally posted by Laughing Lagomorph
A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering Middle Earth on the Eastward Trail (by Bill Bryson):
"What did you get rid of?" I asked, trying not to betray too much alarm.
"Heavy f*cking sh*t, that's what! The rope, the pots and pans, the little box from Galadriel, I don't know what all. F*ck!"
"The food from Farmir?"
"Flung"
"The water bottle?"
"Flung"
"The lembas?"
"Flung far!"
This was begining to sound a trifle grave...
The Sergeant's Voice
Hmmm, let's see.....
I went into an 'obbit-'ouse to try to soothe me fear
The 'obbit 'e stood up an' said "'ave you brought fireworks 'ere?"
The boys out in the yard they laught and giggled fit t'die
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I,
Oh, it's fireworks this and fireworks that an' "Wizard, go away",
But it's "Thank you Mister Gandalf" when the orcs come out to play
The orcs are come to play, my boys, the orcs have come to play
And it's "Thank you, Mister Gandalf" when the Nazgul come to play.
From "The Wizard and the Hobbit", by Rudyard Kipling.
I'm unworthy! These are all so great.
But that never stopped me before:
Ray: Ha! We're back, you're listening to Ring Talk with us, Rick and Rack the Tappit Brothers, and we're here to discuss Rings, Ring Destruction, and-uh the answer to last week's puzzler.
Tom: I can hardly wait. (guffaw)
Ray: This one was given to us by Bilbo Baggins from Bag-End. After running from a dragon and being cornered by an ugly weirdo in a wet cave: What have I got in my pocket?
Tom: I have to say, this is one of the most Bo-o-o-o-gus puzzlers you've ever given.
Ray: Oh, hush up. The answer is this: a ring of power. Do we have any winners?
Tom: Oddly enough, we had over 144 entries by some fellow named Smeagol, but not one had the right answer. So no one wins the $10 gift certificate from Rings Dot Com.
Ray: Well, that's a first. But I guess it had to happen eventually.
Tom: Hey - do you know what time it is?
Ray: Time to change the air filters in our Uruk-Hai odor purifier?
Tom: No, it's time to play, Stump the Chumps! (weird music) This is the part of the show when we dig up a caller from a previous show to find our if our advice was wonderous, blunderous
Ray: Or scandalous. Who is our lucky player today?
Tom: Frodo Baggins from Bag-End. His problem seemed to be that his Ring wasn't starting reliably. Perhaps you remember:
(flashback music)
Frodo: And so when the wraiths cornered me on Weathertop, I put the Ring on, expecting to become invisible. But for some reason, they had no problem finding me and one even stabbed me with his poisoned sword.
Tom: What model is this again?
Ray: He already said, it's a Chrysler 1600 One-Ring. Weren't you listening?
Tom: Oh, yeah. By the way, was your name spelled with an "oh" or a "u"?
Ray: We already asked him that part too! Where have you been?
Tom: Out getting doughnuts, actually. Do you want one?
Ray: Oh for heaven's sake. Um, has it ever hesitated for you before?
Frodo: No, never.
Ray: Do you know anything about the previous owners?
Frodo: Well, my cousin Bilbo gave it to me, but before that he says it was owned by a little man named Gollum who ate fish all the time.
Tom: Fish! I knew it. Is the ring damp when you first start it up in the morning?
Frodo: Why, yes, yes it is!
Ray: Aw, no, you're done for.
Frodo: Why? What does that mean?
Ray: Well, these older models may have had very powerful engines, but they were susceptible to flooding. It's likely that this Gollum character didn't care and wore the ring fishing.
Tom: Or just as likely found the ring in the bottom of the river!
Ray: (chuckle) yeah, right. And when it started to work against him, he passed it on to your unsuspecting cousin, who pawned it off on you.
Tom: You know, you could just put up with the problem.
Ray: Yeah, right. I'm sure Mr. Frodo has better things to do than to put up with this. Plus, as time goes on, as you use it more and more, you're likely to fade away and become a wraith yourself! (HaHaHa!)
Tom: Which also has the benefit that you won't have to pay for your beer anymore.
[end flashback music]
Ray: So, what advice did we give to poor Frodo?
Tom: We advised him to sell it to some unsuspecting chump for the first gold coin he could find. Because the only honest thing would be to toss it into the lava of Mount Doom.
Ray: OK, Frodo, are you on the line?
Frodo: Yes.
Tom: Now, before you answer, we need to confirm that we haven't spoken since your last appearance on Ring Talk.
Ray: And that the answer you're about to give has not been influenced by our staff, the staff of NPR, or that brilliant "Light of Galadriel" charm that we sent to you.
Frodo: No, of course not.
Ray: So, did you sell the ring?
Frodo: Well, I took your advice more seriously than you may have thought. Because you mentioned that in good conscience I couldn't sell the ring to anyone else, knowing that it was cursed. So I decided to take it to Mount Doom to throw into the lava.
Tom: Get outa town!
Frodo: Absolutely. And it's been quite the trip so far. My best friend Sam and I met up with the previous owner, and have been working our way into Mordor.
Ray: Well I'll be. (fanfare music to indicate a correct answer)
Frodo: So you guys do give good ring advice...
Ray: Which you very wisely ignored. Good luck to ya, Frodo.
quote:
Originally posted by Hello Again
If it was written by Robert Jordan it would be 10 books long.
::coughhackcough::
*sigh* That'll teach me to post without checking up on the past thread for a bit...
In my defense, I didn't start reading Lovecraft until this thread was at least in the middle of the second page. I didn't remember what was on it... *sob* can you ever forgive me?
"I need a holiday, Gandalf. A very long holiday. And I
don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to....
(music swells)
Sitting at home,
In my hole, all on my own.
Any hobbit would envy me.
But I need more,
Need to see the dragons soar
Beyond the Shire, a little past Bree...
(crescendo)
To see the elves and the dwarves and kings
To see spiders and trolls and rings
To visit with Elrond and then,
The Mountains, I must see the mountains again.
Frodo's a good lad,
There no arguing that.
But lately I'm just feeling thin.
Like butter on too much bread,
I feel like I should be dead.
And I must get away from my kin...
To see the elves and the dwarves and kings
To see spiders and trolls and rings
To visit with Elrond and then,
The Mountains...
Yes, those mountains...
(music fades to a sad, longing whisper)
I must see ... the mountains... again."
--From Menken and Ashman's soundtrack to Disney's LotR
(And you know... I actually wouldn't mind seeing that...)
When perfect silence was once again restored, one of the two aged elves who sat at the side of the patriarch arose, and demanded aloud, in very intelligible Westron:
"Which of my prisoners is La Longue Rapier?"
Boromir, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed, remained silent; but the ranger, who had listened attentively to all that passed, now advanced steadily to the front.
"That I did not answer to the call for La Longue Rapier, was not owing either to shame or fear," he said, "for neither one nor the other is the gift of an honest man. But I do not admit the right of the Uruks to bestow a name on one whose friends have been mindful of his gifts, in this particular; especially as their title is a lie, 'anduril' being a broadsword and no rapier. I am the man, however, that got the name of Aragorn from my kin, the compliment of Estel from the Sindarin, who live on their own river; and whom the Orcs have presumed to style 'The Long Rapier', without any warranty from him who is most concerned in the matter."
From Last of the Moriquendi, by James Fenimore Tolkien
Your Horoscope
By Loyd Schumner, Sr.
Retired Machinist and
A.A.P.B.-Certified Astrologer
Aries
It will be small consolation to learn that the incident with the Balrog was just the result of a big misunderstanding.
Taurus
It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Most mortal men would have tried to take the ring from Frodo and thus doom all of humanity.
Gemini
Your future involves a trip to the Grey Havens, a fight to free your homeland, and an erotic encounter with a giant female spider, but not necessarily in that order.
Cancer
You’ve never been rescued by Ents after being captured by Uruk-Hai before, which just goes to show that there’s a first time for everything.
Leo
Despite all your pleading, slithering, and hissing, your Precious is still not interested in returning to you.
Virgo
You’ve always just assumed that your army of Orcs would have no trouble dealing with a band of scrappy heroes. Well I guess we’re going to get that misconception cleared up, aren’t we?
Libra
Your belief that men are a flawed and weak race will be tempered when you learn of Aragorn’s selfless heroism. But only slightly.
Scorpio
If it makes you feel any better, countless evil overlords have made the mistake of concentrating all their power in a small, easily-losable object.
Sagittarius
The Stars would like to politely suggest that it might be a prudent idea to delay your trip through the Misty Mountains until at least next April.
Capricorn
You will take part in a hilarious incident involving an inn and song about dancing tableware, although the humor of it may not be obvious at the time.
Aquarius
You’ll feel that being forced to face an army of ten-thousand Orcs is an unfair burden. Well join the club, buddy.
Pisces
While your friends will be surprised to see you again, they’ll feel that the transition from “grey” to “white” smacks of self-promotion.
one line
see frodo run, see frodo row, see frodo swim, go frodo go
quote:
Originally posted by ITR champion
Your Horoscope
By Loyd Schumner, Sr.
Retired Machinist and
A.A.P.B.-Certified Astrologer
Aries
It will be small consolation to learn that the incident with the Balrog was just the result of a big misunderstanding.
Taurus
It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Most mortal men would have tried to take the ring from Frodo and thus doom all of humanity.
Gemini
Your future involves a trip to the Grey Havens, a fight to free your homeland, and an erotic encounter with a giant female spider, but not necessarily in that order.
Cancer
You’ve never been rescued by Ents after being captured by Uruk-Hai before, which just goes to show that there’s a first time for everything.
Leo
Despite all your pleading, slithering, and hissing, your Precious is still not interested in returning to you.
Virgo
You’ve always just assumed that your army of Orcs would have no trouble dealing with a band of scrappy heroes. Well I guess we’re going to get that misconception cleared up, aren’t we?
Libra
Your belief that men are a flawed and weak race will be tempered when you learn of Aragorn’s selfless heroism. But only slightly.
Scorpio
If it makes you feel any better, countless evil overlords have made the mistake of concentrating all their power in a small, easily-losable object.
Sagittarius
The Stars would like to politely suggest that it might be a prudent idea to delay your trip through the Misty Mountains until at least next April.
Capricorn
You will take part in a hilarious incident involving an inn and song about dancing tableware, although the humor of it may not be obvious at the time.
Aquarius
You’ll feel that being forced to face an army of ten-thousand Orcs is an unfair burden. Well join the club, buddy.
Pisces
While your friends will be surprised to see you again, they’ll feel that the transition from “grey” to “white” smacks of self-promotion.
Evil Characters Demand Return of The One Ring
MORDOR, MIDDLE EARTH - Denouncing what they called a "dreadful injustice," Middle Earth's evil beings made a public demand yesterday that Frodo Baggins return the One Ring to them as soon as possible.
"It's generally known that the Ring belongs to me," said hideous evil overlord Sauron, flanked by nine hooded attorneys. "I'm simply asking for what's rightfully mine. Not only is the Ring my property, but its loss prevents me from pursuing my livelihood of world domination and enslavement."
Green-skinned cave-dweller Gollum agreed. "It's no riddle that I want the Ring back," said Gollum. "It was rightfully mine and was stolen right out of my home by the evil Baggins, yes."
Added Gollum, "My preciousssssssss!"
Saruman the White, wizard-lord of Isengard, also indicated that he wanted the One Ring back, but alternated between claiming it was for himself and for Sauron.
Reaction to the speech was decidedly negative. "I will not return the Ring to Sauron," said Frodo Baggins in a telephone interview, declining to give his exact location. Other Fellowship members claimed to not know where Baggins was.
According to legal experts, the Sauron-led coalition may have a strong case. "It's quite clear that the Ring is Sauron's property," said Princeton legal professor John Quinlan. "The fundamental principle of common law concerning lost property is that it becomes the finder's property only when the original owner cannot be discenered. I don't think there's any doubt who thing belongs to. Not many Rings make you turn invisible and drive you crazy."
For their part, the evil characters seemed determined to recover the Ring, though their opinions are clearly divided as to who ultimately will get to keep it.
Welcome to EverQuest!
You have entered The Mines of Moria.
/loc
Your location is -74351.13, 66398.89, 12.65.
Gimli says, "No! [Balin]!"
/say Who is Balin?
/say What about Balin?
/say How can I help with balin?
/say who the bloody goddamned hell is balin?
Gimli says, "Balin was my cousin and the [King of Moria]!"
/say What about the King of Moria?
/say King of Moria?
/say screw it
/skill 3
You have no idea what direction you are facing.
Aragorn tells the group "We should get going."
You are encumbered!
You say, "The Ring is getting heavy."
Legolas ssays, "I hear something approaching."
Boromir shouts, "Train to crypt room!"
Gimli says, "Look out! A Orc is incoming!"
/assist gimli
n orc says, "It's Hobbits like you that have ruined your own lands! You'll not ruin mine!"
/con
An orc looks at you threateningly - you should win this fight, but it's not certain.
/a
You hit an orc for 4 points of damage!
An orc swings at you, but misses!
Legolas pierces an orc for 32 points of damage!
Legolas has slain an orc!
You have gained group experience!
Your faction standing with Orcs of Moria got worse.
Your faction standing with Mordor got worse.
Your faction standing with The Fellowship got better.
A cave troll says, "grrooooowwwwwl!"
/con
A cave troll looks at you threateningly - what would you like your tombstone to say?
/a
You hit a cave troll for 5 points of damage!
A cave troll pierces you for 109 points of damage!
You have been knocked unconscious!
Gimli has slain a cave troll!
You gain group experience!
You have reached a new level!
Welcome to Level 5!
/shout Ding!
Samwise shouts, "Gratz!"
Legolas shouts, "Gratz!"
Pippin shouts, "you sux0r!"
You are conscious again.
/petition I wish the Ring had never come to me!
Gollum tells you, "Then give Precioussss back, evil Bagginssss!"
/who gollum all
[Level 22 Rogue] Gollum (Obsessed Ringbearers) zone: moria
There is 1 player who matches your search criteria.
/tell gandalf Gollum's following us!
Gandalf shrugs.
Merry says, "What's THAT??"
Gandalf says, "It's a balrog! Run!"
You are encumbered!
/g I need a SOW!
You are encumbered!
Gandalf shouts, "You shall not pass!"
Gandalf hits a balrog for 588 points of damage!
A balrog hits Gandalf for 834 points of damage!
Gandalf has slain a balrog!
You get group experience!
Your faction standing with Creatures of Shadow and Flame got worse.
Your faction standing with Tolkein Geeks got better.
Your faction standing with The Fellowship got better.
Gandalf has died!
/shout Noooooooooooooooooooo!
Aragorn says "We have to get out of here!"
ZONING, PLEASE WAIT...
You have entered The Rocky Outcropping.
Gandlaf tells you, "Can I get a rez? My body's in Moria and I'm in Rohan!"
A Trip to Mordor is Announced, by Agatha Christie
"A visitor for you, Mister Frodot."
"Is that so, Miss Lemon?" M. Frodot turned about in his chair to look at her, demi-tasse poised halfway between his lips and the saucer on the desk in front of him. "You did not tell me, did you, that I had further appointments aujourd'hui?"
"The gentleman does not have an appointment, Mister Frodot." She pressed her lips together disapprovingly. "I suggested he might make one, but he insisted it is a most urgent matter."
"I say!" exclaimed Pippin from the sofa, in between puffs of pipeweed. "What dashed rotten luck, to arrive unexpectedly in the middle of tea-time and demand..."
"Tais-toi, you fool of the Took," Frodot said, though not ungently. He replaced the cup in its saucer and laced his fingers together over his waistcoat. "Alors, Miss Lemon, you may show him in."
Miss Lemon stood aside and allowed the tall, bearded man in the pointed hat to enter the room. "Mister Gandalf LeGrey." Behind his back she wrinkled her nose faintly in distaste.
The gentleman so announced strode across the room, staff thumping against the carpet. "Thank you for seeing me, Mister Frodot," he said. His well-spoken, well-mannered voice was quite at odds with his disheveled appearance and long, unkempt beard rather like a charicature of a Balliol College professor which had gotten out of hand.
Instinctively Frodot began to stroke his perfectly groomed moustaches, and contemplated the gloriousness of his equally well-groomed barefeet beneath the desk. "Not at all, m'sieur. Won't you please sit down?"
"Would the gentleman care for some tea?" Miss Lemon inquired sharply from the doorway. "Or a coffee, perhaps?"
LeGrey sat down and shook his head. Frodot raised one eyebrow at her and said, "Merci, Miss Lemon, that will be all. You may return to your making of the filing system which perfectly organizes the -- comme on dit? -- 'sundering' of the elves." She pressed her lips together once again and shut the door behind her as Frodot's attention returned to his visitor. "Now, my good sir, how may I be of service?"
"I have a job for you, Mister Frodot."
"And what sort of job is it you have, m'sieur?"
"I want you to lose something for me."
Frodot did not respond immediately. "A most intriguing proposition, but I do not see how I can help. You do understand that I have the skill at finding that which is missing, not the other way around?"
"That I do indeed, Mister Frodot," LeGrey replied, leaning over the desk. "I realize that this is not your speciality, but if anyone can figure out how to lose this particular. . . item, with no one being the wiser, it is you. You have a reputation for being the cleverest elvish detective that ever --"
"Bon Dieu," Frodot interrupted, fuming, "I am not elvish, I am an 'alfling!"
"Whatever you say, Mister Frodot, but you come very highly recommended. Will you take the job?"
"Et bien, what is it you wish me to lose for you, then?"
"This." LeGrey drew a wad of cloth from his sleeve and, laying it on the desk, carefully unfolded it without touching the contents. Within the mass of white silk lay a plain gold ring.
Pippin joined them at the desk. "I say, that's a jolly handsome ring. But why on earth can't you lose it yourself?"
"Do not tempt me, Master Took!" LeGrey thundered.
"Oui, Pippin, you must exercise the little grey cells," Frodot berated him. "It is clear from M. le Grey's behavior that this is one of the rings de puissance -- a ring of Power."
LeGrey jumped to his feet and stared down at him in amazement. "That's incredible, Mister Frodot; you're absolutely right. How did you know?"
"Order and method, my dear M. le Grey," Frodot replied with a wink, tapping his forehead. "Now, you must tell me one more thing: where is it you should like for it to be disposed?"
LeGrey collapsed into his chair and pulled a face. It was some moments before he spoke. "The Land of Mordor," he intoned.
"Murder?" Pippin squeaked. "I say, that's smashing. If there's one thing Frodot knows, it's murder! When do we leave?"
Not that I ever read these things but...
Dear Penthouse Forum,
I never thought something like this would ever happen to me, but a few weeks ago I had sex with a witch. Not just any witch, an elf witch. I was out hiking by myself, minding my own business when all of the sudden there she was, standing in front of me. She said something in a different language, Elven I guess, and since I didn't understand, I just stood there staring at her. She was, thin, had huge breasts (that I'm sure were real), and beautiful pointed ears that peeked out from under her long blonde hair. She repeated whatever she said and stepped very close to me, with her face about a foot away from me.
Much to her surprise, and more to my own, I kissed her. I don't know why I did, I just did. Maybe she cast a spell on me, I don't know. But I did it. She pulled away and gave me an angry look, but then it softened a bit and planted her lips back on mine. She kissed me llike she was hungry, and I immediately grew hard as a rock. In one swift movement, she slipped her cloak off and much to my delight she was completely naked! Her ivory white skin shone in the dim light of the forest. Her nipples, hard and erect, begged to be sucked...
You guys get the picture.
quote:
Originally posted by jayjay
And I'd do a Terry Brooks version, but that would require no more effort than going to get my copy of The Sword of Shannara and copying off a few paragraphs...
A software developer's take on it...
A snippet from Sauron's Ring of Power Project seat-of-the-pants Software Requirements Doc, and Bug Tracking Database, etc.
.....
23.3.1 INVISIBILITY
When the user places the Ring on any finger (or thumb), he/she is to be rendered invisible, at least to other front end users. Back end specifics: the user shall actually be placed in an ethereal state, and shall be *perfectly* visible to any other users with admin-level ethereal privileges.
23.3.1.1 Use the Ring is Limited
Ring database to keep a count of occasions on which user wears Ring. If user Ring tally grows too high (see initial design specs), user loses front end privileges and transfers (without notice) to ethereal-only account. (Note: in these cases, user account privileges to become subservient to superadmin user, that is to say, ME - <S'ron - 11/01/1757 SA> )
BUG 3044
Entered by: Baggins, Bilbo (bbaggins)
Date: 4/5/2959 TA
Description: put ring on finger, but still partially visible in sunlight to front end users (even those with no ethereal-level access)
Steps to Reproduce: stand in sunlight, preferably near observant front-end witnesses (in my case, a guardhouse full of orcs! Yikes! This is a *critical* bug, team). Place ring on finger. Stand in direct sunlight. Move frenetically to attract attention. Confirm front end witnesses notice.
* * * * * * *
any other software people wanna take this ball and run with it?
American Hobbit, by Bret Easton Ellis
I drive my black Lexxus to the Hobbit Hole Club on the Shire. I snort some blow off the dashboard as I'm driving. I call Sam on my cell.
"Sam," I say, "It's Frodo. Come to the Hole."
"What for?' says Sam. He's still half asleep.
"We're going to meet Gandalf."
"Does he have any Elf-blow?"
"He's always got Elf-blow."
"Christ my fucking head hurts. I did WAY too much crank last night."
"I told you not to buy crank from those dwarves."
"What does Gandolf want?
"I don't know. Something about a ring."
"What kind of ring? Does it have any diamonds?
"It's just a plain gold ring."
"Gold is out this year. It has to have diamonds."
"Have you seen Merry? I ask, although I know that Merry's head is in my freezer.
"The last time I saw him was two days ago," says Sam, "He was drinking Elvenschlager and doing blow. He and pippen said they were going to Pippen's place to fuck."
"I thought Pippen wasn't going to fuck guys any more."
"Pippen fucks anything. I heard he fucked an ORC once."
"Come to the Hole," I say again.
I hang up the phone. The E is kicking in as I go into the club. Echo and the Bunnymen is playing through the speakers. I go to the bar and order an Elvenschlager. Twenty-five gold pieces a bottle.
I see Gandalf sitting at a table. He's wearing an Armani robe, black. 2000 Gold pieces. CK wizard's hat, 500 gold pieces. Bruno Magli boots, 100 gold pieces. He's snorting elf blow off the table. He looks up and sees me.
"Did you bring it?" he asks
"Bring what?"
"The ring."
"I shot Merry in the eyes with a nail gun last night. Then I cut off his head and stuck it in my freezer."
"Very funny," says Gandalf, "Where is the Ring?"
quote:
Originally posted by Diogenes the Cynic
". . . Armani robe, black. 2000 Gold pieces. CK wizard's hat, 500 gold pieces. Bruno Magli boots, 100 gold pieces. He's snorting elf blow off the table. He looks up and sees me. . ."
The Fall of Boromir - by Joseph Heller
"Help him!" sobbed Pippin, "Help him!"
"Help who?", replied Strider. Louder still, "Help who?"
"The heir to the throne of Gondor! Help the heir to the throne of Gondor!"
"I'm heir to the throne of Gondor!", yelled Strider right back at him, "I'm heir to the throne of Gondor, I'm all right, I'm all right."
"Then help him, help him." Pippin begged.
And Boromir lay dying on his back.
References and credits for my previous post:
For Dune-inspired references, thanks to tracer and gonzoron (see p.1 of this thread)
For reference to evil lords and small, easily-lost objects, thanks ITR champion, horoscope for Scorpio on p. 3 of this thread.
LOTR: The straight dope version.
Forum: General Questions
Thread Starter: Frodo23 (Post count: 3)
Title: How does on go about destroying a ring
Thread: Hey guys, my uncle recently gave me this wierd ring and I want to get rid of it. When I put it on, I get all invisbile (sp?) and freaky and stuff. I tried melting it and like cutting it but its too hard. Any suggestions.
Johnz: Well, you could hop on an eagle and drop it off into Mount Doom, thats pretty certain to destry it.
Feldor: Hey, why dont you dorp it into mount doom.
Feldor: Damn simulpost.
Carman: Could you give us a bit more information about the ring? What is it made of, do you know any history about it?
Frodo23: Yeah, I think the ring is gold but it might just be gold plated. My uncle said something about getting it from second hand from this old guy living in a lake. Then again, my uncle also smoked a lot of pipeweed. Well, I can't ask him now since hes buggered off to Rivendell for a holiday.
Boogles: Well, you could ship it off to me, Im always on the look out for some eclectic jewelry.
Boogles: Well, you could ship it off to me, Im always on the look out for some eclectic jewelry.
Boogles: Well, you could ship it off to me, Im always on the look out for some eclectic jewelry.
Johnz: Why isn't anybody listening to me?
Justhink: The posession of a ring is the symbolic domination of a ring bearers responsibility over the rights of the non-ring wearing prolateariat (sp?) Or put in another way. those who need the ring will find a way to overcome the dominant responsibility of emasculation. It is clear that the female kind is inferior. To those who posess, such a right, it is logicaly paradoxical that rings should belong to their "owner".
Frodo23: Well, thanks guys, I think I'm just going to try and donate the ring to the local St vincents. Its just too much of a bother to keep.
Gandalfz: Hey, it's possible that the ring you have is the one ring. If this ring gets into the wrong hands, it could mean the destruction of the world!!!!
<at this point, the board crashes and this thred is lost into obscurity>
Disclaimer: these r not my characters. im borowing them from Tolkin.
There were alot of hobbits in the shire. One of them is Frodo Baggins.Hes pretty young, and has really nice blue eyes. His uncle, who was having a party 'cause he was really old, had a scary ring. He didnt want it anymore so he gave it to Frodo. Gandalf, a wizard, told Frodo it was an evil wring so never put it on.
But the ring was really bad, so he had to get rid of it. So he and his friend Sam, and a couple other hobbits set off to throw it into some lava or something. Things went ok, until they ran into the ring wrathes who tried to kill them. These were sort of ghost things, who wear all black. The wrathes followed the hobbits
all the way to the Prancin Pony, and they made the wall fall on the nice guard and killed him.
While in the PP the Hobbits met Stryder. He was a really nobel man who risked his own life to keep the Hobbits safe. Unfortunately they got attacked on some cliff and Frodo got hurt, which was bad 'cause he was the one with the ring.
But Stryders girlfriend, Arwin helped him. She was a really pretty elf, wit dark hair an pointed ears. She made the wrathes go away. But then she and Stryder, who was tall dark an hansome were able to be reunitted.
They are really in love, even though they're from different worlds. He's a person and she's an elf, and socity probly frowns on that sort of thing. But they loved each other so much that it didn't matter. Thier pure love transended the laws. He took her into his arms and gave her a long kiss. Then she gave him this thing thats supposed to be her imorality. Thats about the most romantic thing ever!
- from " Endless Love" a story from a 13-year-old Strider/Arwen shipper fanfic writer
LOTR on the Howard Stern Show
Howard: What is it, Bababooie Baggins? Retarded halfling bowling, again? We did that bit two days ago. I want the Scores girls.
Gary: Ok, boff, we've got these two chicks waiting to come on to plug something about a ring.
Howard: Well, bring them in you idiot!
Robin: Hee hee hee hee.
Howard: Ok, there's these two really hot chicks walking in. The blonde one has a really huge rack and the other looks just like Liv Tyler, swear to God! Hey, what are your names?
Arwen: I'm Arwen and she's Galadriel.
Howard: So, Arwen, huh? Jeez, that's such a stripper name. You're really hot. You must've been molested as a child or something.
Arwen: Umm, no.
Howard: Oh come on. All the really hot strippers have really messed up childhoods. So, are you two lesbians? I want you two to kiss each other.
Robin: Hee hee hee!
Arwen: We're not lesbians.
Howard: Jeez, you're hot. You two should be lesbians. How can you look at each other and not want to jump each other? Wow, I'm already getting aroused! Folks, there's a piece of wood under this console and I'm totally pleasuring myself right now. So, are you two gonna strip down?
Both girls: No!
Howard: Oh come on! How about just down to bra and panties? Please? Come on! Bababooie, why do you keep booking these chicks that won't strip? I'm about to throw you two out... Listen, if you want the plug I'm going to need something. How about just if the two of you hug and make out a little? No? Ok, just a hug then! Hey, they're really doing it. It's so hot! Wow, now get into it. Kiss each other! What? That's it? Aww, you want a plug for that? Ok, just a quick one then.
Arwen: We need some men to volunteer to carry a ring to Mordor and cast it into Mount Doom...
Howard: Ok, that's all you get for now. I need you two to really make out and I'll give you a second plug. Wait, don't leave. Damn, they're gone!
Robin: Hee hee hee.
Howard: Those two were really hot, so check them out on my E show. And shut up, Jackie, I'll do your stupid Jokeman plugs later.
On Account of a Ring
By Damon Runyon
I am sitting in Mindy's along about a Tuesday night, enjoying the liver and onions, which is always a popular way to pass the time at Mindy's, when a commotion stirs up the likes of which I do not see since the days of the Tammany Hall campaign rallies.
It seems many of the citizens in Mindy's take exception to the arrival of two or three guys, the likes of which I never see before along Broadway.
They are maybe three feet high, with feet the size of frying pans, and they dress in capes and they all carry swords, which I find unusual, as most guys I know find swords unwieldy, and prefer a seven-inch shiv if they plan to go about bladed up. Of course, I never carry weapons of any kind, myself, but I hear that a seven-inch shiv fits nicely up the sleeve, and feels good in the hand, if they balance it properly. It is also more gentlemanly than a razor in the shoe-tip, although by and large such dastardly things are more popular in Brooklyn, where less civilized citizens live.
But these half-pints with the swords and the large dogs are getting the business no little from guys the likes of Vinnie Pinstripes and Manhattan Mike. They insist they only wish to rest a bit before they continue their quest, and allow me to say right now that if I have feet that big and have to walk about more than somewhat, I will wish to rest every other block or so. But Vinnie Pinstripes says to them like this:
"Oho," he says, "I am sure one of you guys is Harry the Hobbit, who I never see before, but who I understand makes my ever-loving doll, Miss Angela Marston, drop me like a hot rock six weeks ago."
It seems that Harry the Hobbit makes mention of a ring, and that Miss Angela Marston seems to think that it is a marriage proposal. When she finds out it is no such thing, Miss Angela Marston's heart breaks, and Vinnie Pinstripes vows to find Harry the Hobbit and rough him up no little, mostly for breaking Miss Angela Marston's heart, but also for the way it makes Vinnie Pinstripes look, as he never mentions a ring to his ever-loving doll in seven long years.
Personally, I think Vinnie Pinstripes barks up the wrong tree, as I understand it is actually a guy known here and there as Crazy Gollum who spreads rumors about rings around and about, but I do not say anything as it may cause me to involve myself more than somewhat in the fracas, and I try to avoid involvement in most things along Broadway, and especially a fracas.
Just as it is about to come to blows, with the little guys getting the worst of it, there is a big whoof and a poom sound, and even though such explosions are not rare in Mindy's kitchen, or even the dining room, for that matter, this whoof-and-poom causes everyone to stand still. Mostly it is because of the smell of brimstone, which is by no means on Mindy's bill of fare, but it is also because after the whoof-and-poom a tall guy with long gray whiskers down to where his belt buckle would be if he wore a belt is standing in the middle of Mindy's dining room, almost knocking a busboy off his pins.
I recognize this guy as the Great Gandalf, who passes himself off as a wizard for a while, but who then becomes a guest of the governor, and when he gets back out on the street, he finds that the wizard dodge has gone the way of the flea circus. The Great Gandalf is not seen much since then, although I hear he has a fortune-telling booth at Coney Island, although I never see it myself, as I try to avoid fresh sea air at all costs.
Well, the Great Gandalf seems ready to go back to the wizarding dodge once again, because he tricks himself out in a robe with stars and planets and I do not know what all covering it, and he carries a big staff that he points at Vinnie Pinstripes. A bolt of lightning shoots out the end of this staff and parts Vinnie's hair, causing one and all, and especially Vinnie Pinstripes, to duck under whatever table is nearest to them.
I do not wish to stick around, as I am certain that the local gendarmes will show up soon, and gendarmes are something I wish to avoid, but the Great Gandalf stands between me and the front door, and Vinnie Pinstripes and the little big-footed guys stand between me and the kitchen door. It is because of my situation that I have a good view of what happens next.
Star Trek: The Wraith Of Rings
"What are they Spockolas?" Captain James Baggins of the starship Partyprize asked, staring at the image of the 9 wraithships pursuing them on the screen.
"They're life, but not as we know it," Spockolas replied in his cold emotionless voice.
Captain Baggins gritted his teeth in frustration. Ever since he'd found the ring on Shire Beta 6 (known to the locals as Bag End) the wraith ships had been following them.
"Recommendations gentelmen?" the Captain spat out.
"Don't ask me Jim, I'm a Dwarf not a prophet," Dr. "Bones" McGimli repiled.
"I'd advise we head for Eriador Alpha 7," Spockolas replied.
"The planet known as Rivendell? Why?" the Captain asked.
"My father Selrond* lives there. He's an expert on ancient artifacts."
"So be it. Mr Sulubuck, set course for Eriador Alpha 7."
"Aye Captain," Sulubuck replied.
Captain Baggins activated the intercom. "Bridge to Engineering, Merrty we need warp 9.9 and we need it now."
"I'm givin' you all the power we've got, Cap'n," Merrty repied in his thick Tookish accent.
"I need more power Merrty," the Captain gritted.
"Och, my poor wee bairns," Merrty lamented
Coming soon: Star Trek: The Next Ring
* Yeah, I know Elrond wasn't Legolas's father, so sue me.
by George Lucas
George Lucas (old)
INTERIOR: Mines of Moria -- Outside Balin's Tomb -- The Bridge of Khazad-Dûm
GANDALF: You shall not pass!
BALROG: If you only knew the power of the dark side. Saruman never told you what happened to your father.
GANDALF: He told me enough! He told me you killed him.
BALROG: No. I am your father.
Shocked, Gandalf looks at Balrog in utter disbelief.
GANDALF: No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!
BALROG: Search your feelings. You know it to be true.
GANDALF: No! No! No!
BALROG: Gandalf. You can destroy Sauron. He has foreseen this. It is your destiny. Join me, and we can rule Middle Earth as father and son. Come with me. It's the only way.
Balrog puts away his sword and holds his hand out to Gandalf. A calm comes over Gandalf, and he makes a decision. In the next instant he steps off the stone bridge into space. The Dark Lord looks over the platform and sees Gandalf falling far below. The wind begins to blow at Balrog's smokey wings and the torrent finally forces him back, away from the edge. The wind soon fades and the wounded Istari begins to drop fast, unable to grab onto anything to break his fall.
George Lucas (new)
ARAGORN : It is not disrespect, Master, it is the truth.
GANDALF : From your point of view....
ARAGORN : The hobbit is dangerous...they all sense it. Why can't you?
GANDALF : His fate is uncertain, not dangerous. Elrond's Council will decide Frodo's future...that should be enough for you. Now get on board!
ARAGORN reluctantly boards the Rivendell boat followed by MERRY. GANDALF goes over to FRODO.
FRODO : Gandalf, sir, I do not wish to be a problem.
GANDALF : You won't be, Frodie....I'm not allowed to train you, so I want you to watch me and be mindful...always remember, your focus determines your reality. Stay close to me and you will be safe.
FRODO : Master, sir...I've been wondering...what are midi-chlorians?
GANDALF : Midi-chlorians are a microcopic lifeform that reside within all living cells and communicates with Magic and the Ring.
FRODO : They live inside of me?
GANDALF : In your cells. We are symbionts with the midi-chlorians.
FRODO : Symbionts?
GANDALF : Life forms living together for mutual advantage. Without the midi-chlorians, life could not exist, and we would have no knowledge of Magic. They continually speak to you, telling you the will of Magic.
FRODO : They do??
GANDALF : When you learn to quiet your mind, you will hear them speaking to you.
FRODO : I don't understand.
GANDALF : With time and training, Frodie...you will.
Pierre Menard, author of the Lord of the Rings by Jorge Luis Borges
Pierre Menard, author of the Lord of the Rings by Jorge Luis Borges
Any insinuation that Menard dedicated his life to the writing of a contemporary Lord of the Rings is a calumny of his illustrious memory. He did not want to compose another Lord of the Rings - which is easy - but the Lord of the Rings itself. Needless to say, he never contemplated a mechanical transcription of the original; he did not propose to copy it. His admirable intention was to produce a few pages which would coincide-word for word and line for line-with those of J.R.R. Tolkien.
The first method he conceived was relatively simple. Know English well, teach at Oxford, fight briefly in the war, forget the history of the world between 1974 and the present, be J.R.R. Tolkien. Pierre Menard studied this procedure (I know he attained a fairly accurate command of early twentieth-century English) but discarded it as too easy. Rather as impossible! my reader will say. Granted, but the undertaking was impossible from the very beginning and of all the impossible ways of carrying it out, this was the least interesting. To be, in the twenty-first century, a popular novelist of the twentieth seemed to him a diminution. To be, in some way, Tolkien and reach the Lord of the Rings seemed less arduous to him - and, consequently, less interesting - than to go on being Pierre Menard and reach the Lord of the Rings through the experiences of Pierre Menard.
"The Lord of the Rings," Menard explains, "interests me profoundly, but it does not seem to me to have been - how shall I say this - inevitable. I cannot imagine the universe without the interjection of Edgar Allan Poe, "Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!" or without the Ancient Mariner, but I know that I am capable of imagining it without the Lord of the Rings. (I speak, naturally, of my personal capacity, not of the historical repercussions of the works.) The Lord of the Rings is an accidental trilogy; the Lord of the Rings is unnecessary. I can premeditate writing, I can write it, without incurring a tautology.
My problems are undeniably considerably more difficult than those which Tolkien faced. My affable precursor did not refuse the collaboration of fate; he went along composing his work a little a la diable, swept along by inertias of language and invention. I have contracted the mysterious duty of reconstructing literally his spontaneous work.
To compose the Lord of the Rings in the midst of the twentieth century was a reasonable, necessary and perhaps inevitable undertaking; at the beginning of the twenty-first century it is almost impossible. It is not in vain that fifty years have passed, charged with the most complex happenings - among them, to mention only one, that same Lord of the Rings."
In spite of these obstacles, the fragmentary Lord of the Rings of Menard is more subtle than that of Tolkien. The latter indulges in a rather coarse opposition between good and evil in the imaginary land of Middle Earth; Menard chooses as "reality" the land of America during the century of Bush and the "War against Terror".
Equally vivid is the contrast in styles. The archaic style of Menard - in the last analysis, a foreigner - suffers from a certain affectation. Not so that of his precursor, who handles easily the ordinary English and extraordinary Elvish of his time.
There is no intellectual exercise which is not ultimately useless. A philosophical doctrine is in the beginning a seemingly true description of the universe; as the years pass it becomes a mere chapter - if not a paragraph or a noun - in the history of philosophy. In literature this ultimate decay is even more notorious. "The Lord of the Rings," Menard once told me, "was above all an agreeable book; now it is an occasion for patriotic toasts, grammatical arrogance, and obscene deluxe editions. Glory is an incomprehension, and perhaps the worst."
Lord of The Rings
by Aaron Sorkin
ELROND: The ring can only be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom in Mordor.
BOROMIR: We can't use it ourselves?
GANDALF: No, the power of the ring corrupts all.
BOROMIR: Yes, but I thought maybe we could use it ourselves... you know, to defeat Sauron.
GANDALF: We can't use the ring ourselves.
BOROMIR: So your saying we can't use it ourselves.
GANDALF: No, we can't use it ourselves.
BOROMIR: Because it would be really cool if we could use it ourselves.
GANDALF: Boromir....
BOROMIR: I know, we can't use it ourselves, but if we COULD....
GANDALF: Which we can't....
BOROMIR: But if we COULD... it would be neat.
GANDALF: But we can't.
BOROMIR: I'm just saying that I think we should use it ourselves... if you say we can't, fine.
GANDALF: We can't.
BOROMIR: Fine.
Trent... just when I thought this thread was dead, you do something THAT brilliant!
I'm in awe.
Arlo Guthrie:
This song is called Barliman’s Restaurant,
and it's about Barliman,
and the restaurant,
but Barliman’s Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,
that's just the name of the song,
and that's why I called the song Barliman’s Restaurant.
You can get anything you want/
at Barliman’s Restaurant/
You can get anything you want/
at Barliman’s Restaurant/
Walk right in/
It’s a real fine sight/
Just a half a league/
from the barrow wight
You can get anything you want/
At Barliman’s Restaurant.
Now it all started…
LotR as Written by Ernest Lawrence Thayer (Author of "Casey at the Bat")
It looked extremely rocky, for the Elrond nine that night,
They were in the Mines of Moria, and running out of light.
Mordor turned to evil, and Sauron did the same,
T'was time for a hero -- and Gandalf was his name.
There was ease in Gandalf's manner, there was calm in Gandalf's tone,
"No one knows we're in here, except Gollum who's alone."
"We'll be through these mines in no time, Perhaps a day or two."
But then they heard the sound of drums, and Frodo's sword turned blue.
With the boldness of a wizard, proud Gandalf raised his staff,
"I'll chant some incantations," he announced with a laugh,
But his voice was never heard, above the evil din,
And then the doors flew open, and a thousand orcs piled in.
"Have no fear," brave Gandalf said, as he gazed around the room,
"We'll be out of trouble, if we get past Kazad Dum."
But some where in the darkness, a Balrog did appear,
And Gimli soiled his armor, and so did Boromir.
Oh somwere in these mythic worlds -- nowhere evil bodes,
Somewhere elves are prancing with hobbits drunk as toads,
Somewhere maids are singing, and somewhere bold men boast,
But there's no joy in Middle Earth -- Gandalf's turned to toast!
The tower goes suddenly white, as if struck by lightning. I stare south, amazed. They have destroyed the Ring! I cry, I bawl like a baby. I'll die! I howl. The night is aflame with winged men. Then darkness. I really will die! Cold, sharp outlines, everything around me: distinct, detached as dead Orcs. I understand. "Melkor!" I bellow. "Melkor, Melkor! I'm dying!" But his love is history. "It was an accident," I bellow. "Blind, mindless, mechanical. Mere logic of chance." I look down past the rivers of lava to a terrifying darkness. I seem to recognize the place, but it's impossible. "Accident," I whisper. I will fall. I seem to desire the fall, and though I fight it with all my will I know in advance that I can't win. Standing baffled, quaking with fear, three feet from the parapet, I find myself, incredibly, moving toward it. I look down, down, into bottomless blackness, feeling the dark power moving in me like like an ocean current, moving me slowly to my voluntary tumble into death.
Again sight clears. I discover I no longer feel pain. Uruks and Easterlings gather around me to watch me die. They watch with mindless, indifferent eyes, as calm and midnight black as the chasm below me.
Is it joy I feel?
They watch on, evil, incredibly stupid, enjoying my destruction.
"Poor Sauron's had an accident," I whisper. "So may you all."
- John Gardner, Sauron
Sauron and Saruman by Jane Awesome
I can't believe no one has done this one...
Jane Awesome's Sauron and Saruman
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single hobbit in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of an adventure.
However little known the feelings or views of such a hobbit may be on his first receiving his inheritance, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of wandering wizards, that he is considered as the rightful recipient of one or the other of their magic rings.
“My dear Mr. Sackville-Baggins,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Bag End is vacant at last?”
Mr. Sackville-Baggins replied that he had not.
“But it is,” returned she, “for Mrs. Bracegirdle has just been here, and she has told me all about it.”
Mr. Sackville-Baggins made no answer.
“Do you not want to know what has happened?” cried his wife impatiently.
“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”
This was invitation enough.
“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Bracegirdle says that the ring was taken by a young hobbit of large fortune and is heading east to Rivendell; that he eloped secretly with the wizard Gandalf, who has a fortune of six thousand a year, and that he is to remain in sole possession until Michelmas; though the Lord Sauron de Morder has indicated his evident displeasure and refused to give his consent; and, my dear, Gandalf’s fortune is nothing compared to his; it is certain that some of his servants are to be in close pursuit by the end of next week.”
Adventure at Mount Doom
A Choose Your OwnTM Adventure
page 1
You are sitting in your little house at Bag End enjoying a nice cup of tea with your friends Sam, Merry and Pippin, when suddenly there is a loud knocking at the door. You open the door to see a tall, gray-haired old man. He points a bony finger at you and says, "My name is Gandalf, I was a friend of your uncle Bilbo. I have come to warn you of a terrible danger. Do you still have your uncle's ring?"
"You mean this ring?" You hold out the ring to him. You don't remember much about your uncle, except that people always said he was a great adventurer. Could he have known this strange old man?
"It's too dangerous for you to stay here," the old man snaps. "There are dangerous people searching for this ring as we speak. You must go to Bree, where I will meet up with you and take you to someone who will know what to do. Will you go?"
"Yes, I will" Turn to page 20.
"No, thanks" Turn to page 49.
page 49
The old man looks worried. "Are you sure? It's very dangerous to stay here."
"I really think we should go" says Merry.
"Me, too" says Sam, "think of the adventures we could have!"
"Ok, I'll go" Turn to page 20.
"No, count me out" Turn to page 14.
page 14
Gandalf frowns at you. "Very well, if that's the way you want it... Alakazam!"
With a wave of his wand, the room starts to spin around you. As your vision fades, you feel you feet start to slip out from under you...
Turn to page 20.
page 20
After a long hike, you arrive at the Prancing Pony Inn with Sam, Merry, and Pippin. The inn is full of people drinking and laughing, but Gandalf is nowhere to be seen. In the corner, you notice a strange man watching you carefully.
You order some food from the innkeeper. Turn to page 52.
You order some drinks from the bartender. Turn to page 63.
You go to your room to get some sleep. Turn to page 31.
You talk with the bartender. Turn to page 27.You talk to the stranger in the corner. Turn to page 18.
page 52
The innkeeper runs off to the kitchen to prepare your dinner. Just as you are about to sit down, the stranger strides over to your table with a sly grin on his face. "And what would you folk be doing so far from home?" he asks. "These parts aren't very safe. You should come with me if you want to avoid those who'll do you harm. Come up to my room and we'll talk."
"Ok, let's go" Turn to page 6.
"Leave us alone" Turn to page 37
page 37
"Very well," the stranger says, and walks back to his corner.
After supper, you and your friends go up to your room to sleep. In the middle of the night, you are awakened by a slight noise. Before you can look around, a hand covers your mouth and a sword blade plunges into your chest. As your life slips away, the last thing you feel is the ring being taken off your finger.
The End.
crap, page 6
Just as you enter the stranger's room, he slams the door behind you and draws his sword. "Now I've got you!" he cackles, "hand over the ring!"
"Never! You'll have to fight me for it!" Turn to page 13.
"Ok, you can have it. Just let us go." Turn to page 44.
page 13
"Fools! You're not even armed!" With one quick strike, he plunges his sword into your chest. As your vision fades, the last thing you hear is his laughter.
The End.
damn, page 44
"Ok, take it. Just don't hurt us."
"Well, you lot are even less brave than I thought! Gimme that!" He grabs the ring from your hand.
"You've got what you wanted, now let us go!" You shout.
He grins at you. "Not so fast there. I can't have you blabbing to your wizard friend, now can I?"
Without another word, he stabs you with his sword. As you lay bleeding, you can't help but think you've let a lot of people down.
The End.
shit. Ok, page 27
You strike up a conversation with the bartender, who seems eager to speak with you in between filling tankards for the other guests. Things seem to be going well until you decide to tell a joke. While your wit has made you famous throughout the Shire, but the bartended is not so taken with it. He punches you in the nose, causing you to fall back and strike your head against one of the tables. Your sight dimming as the blood flows from the gash in your scalp, you wonder how you were supposed to know his mother was a one-legged turnip farmer from Gondor?
The End.
#&@%#$$! page 63
The beer is poisoned. You die.
The end.
Book is flung across the room
I've been wanting to do a NYPD Blue one, or a Law & Order one, but for now…
Dennis Miller
Rings
12/05/2002
I don't want to get off on a rant here, but it seems to me that this whole ring thing has gotten just a bit out of hand. Sauron's going after the Ring of Power like a cracked out Rosie O'Donnell after a pair of Tom Cruise's used jockey shorts. He's got bigger rage issues than Bobby Knight trapped in a car pool with Carrot Top, Phyllis Diller, and Kathy Lee Gifford. I can't decide if Mordor looks more like Afghanistan during an air raid or Detroit on Halloween.
On the other hand, you've got Gandalf base jumping onto condors the size of DC-8's and getting whipped by Balrug like a Sub at an all-night S&M party after the Street Fair in San Francisco. Speaking of San Francisco, that Khazad-dum bridge fell so fast, I thought I was watching footage from the 1989 San Fran-Oakland World Series.
And Frodo's taken more hits than Ali but still comes out swinging and stabbing with his Timex Indiglo blade like OJ after a nice dinner with the wife while Sam spends more time eating than George Forman. That's George the First, not to be confused with Georges 2-13.
These guys are less likely to reach an agreement than Sharon and Arafat, though you have to admit, they've been fighting about as long. Even Tyson and Holifield looking at each other saying, "Can't we all just get along?"
It seems to me that of the Fellowships infighting for the Ring is nothing more than high school posturing the latest cell phone-MP3-palm pilot-HDTV-DVD-pocket pussy. Everybody knows that soon everyone'll have one and you'll be virtually invisible and it'll just drive you insane, but for now, you've got to have it.
Now, some say that this Ring controls all other Rings, but lets face it folks, I've been trying to figure out my universal remote for years and I still have a clock that blinks 12:00. The chances of me being able to control anything else are about as high as the Catholic Churches chances of sponsoring a summer boys camp. What, too much? Okay, then how about a weekend retreat run by George Michael, Paul Rueubens, and Elton John? We could throw in Michael Jackson, but it's getting cold out and his face might freeze and chip if bumps his nose on one of their pelvises.
If it were up to me, I'd make a new batch of rings, one for everyone, so nobody would feel left out. They wouldn't do anything, but at least you wouldn't have to buy earplugs to block the Rosanne-like National Anthem screeching of a pack of Wraiths.
Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.
thinksnow, that's brilliant
Thank you, much.
O my god! I have created a monster! A wonderful, warm, witty, funny, and engaging monster, but still, a monster! Over 10,000 views!? 170 replys!? And every one is brilliant!
I would like thank each and every one of you for creating one of the best BB threads of all-time. A real classic! Thank you all!
When this thread dies out, if it ever does, I am going to print out each page, and hand sew them into a leather hard back album. I am going to call it The Red Book of Straight Dope.
I have one last request. Please, someone do an Eminem version, uncut. Thanks.
Fingolfin
Seinfeld Episode 144: "The Ring":
So anyway my uncle gives me this ring of power and I can't even recharge my cell phone with it. What's up with that?
"Don't tell me you lost the ring George."
"I had it a minute ago. I must have left it in that restaraunt."
"No Rings for you," cried the Soup Nazgul.
"This guy who wants me to get rid of the ring is named Gandalf. Have you ever met anybody named Gandalf? What's up with that?
The Council of Elrond:
"Sauron created the ring of power in the year...yadda, yadda, yadda... and that's how Frodo here got it."
Why didn't Sauron make a spare ring? What's up with that?
"Ho, Frodo."
"Ho, Gandalf."
Pause.
"Sir," Gandalf said softly.
"I know what you're doing, Gandalf, sir, and I'm warning you."
"Warning me?"
"I can be the best hobbit you've got, but don't play games with me."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll be the worst hobbit you've got. One or the other."
"And what do you want, warm muffins and a full pipe?" Gandalf was getting angry now.
Frodo looked unworried. "I want the One Ring."
Gandalf walked back to him and stood, leaning on his staff, looking down into his eyes. "Why should you get the One Ring?"
"Because I'd know what to do with it."
"Indeed. Knowing what to do with a Ring of Power is easy," Gandalf said. It's getting them into Mordor that's hard. Why would anyone in the Fellowship want to follow a little pinprick like you?"
Orson Scott Card - Frodo's Game
William Shakespeare
This is Vindblain's (<-----me) version of how Shakespeare would've written it:
Gandalf: Whither thou goest young shireling. Wouldst thou be upon a torrent of mischeif whist ring on potentcy on thy stoutly finger?
Frodo: The Weird sisters be against me in a vile conspiracy of fate to have this ornament betrixt I and my shire. Twould not be a burden twere not for the temptress within my grip. To Mount Doom I must quest, with countenance gay.
Gandalf: Be ye wary of the Weird sisters misdoings. They prance like nymphs bidding ye to commit their will while dashing ye upon a rocky graveshore like sirens...
Frodo: It matereth not. Away, I am off. Gone from this land this shireling is. Off to take my leave of my home and queeth. Perchance never to return in bodily whole.
Gandalf: A ringwraith's gord be cast against ye if ye be not hatily on you way.
Frodo: Tis' sooth ye speak, so away I must, off with Moria's hand in mine. Tis' but a minor fear I feel nestled in my heartbreast. Perhaps me take comfort in mine thumb.
Gandalf: Do you suck your thumb at me sir!?
Frodo: I sthuck mine sthumb sthir, but I doth not tsuckuth mine sthumb at you sthir!........
quote:
Originally posted by Topcat
"Orson Scott Card - Frodo's Game
"My Fair Gamgee"
Selections from the soundtrack:
"All I want is a hole somewhere
Warm and snug out of the night air
And one enormous chair
Oh - wouldn't it be hobbity?"
"Just you wait, Gandalf the Grey, just you wait!
You'll be sorry, but your spells will be too late!"
"The ring's the thing that I must bring and fling"
(sung by the Uruk-Hai)
We could have fought all night
We could have fought all night
And still have begged for more
We could have spread our wings (do we have them?)
And killed a thousand things
We've never killed before ..."
(comtinuing the theme above)
Do mellyrn grow on the street where you live?[i]
[i]The hail in Dale falls frailly on the swale
Our narrative now concerns a Mister Frodo Baggins of Bag End, a bourgeois estate in H_____, The S____. What sort of man was he? We shall see shortly that he was not a man at all, but that sort of fellow of slight build and dirty feet and fingernail known in those times as a Hobbit. He had inhereted of a kindly relative a ring. This ring was worth at least 10 sous in the precious metal alone, but it was not the value of the thing that will concern us. It had a history, this pretty thing, and it began long before this Baggins walked the streets of H____.
[Insert 10 pages of backstory of the Ring, followed by 15 more of the political scenario that led to its creation, and 5 of the battle tactics employed at The Battle of Dagorlad]
Let us return--as we now must--to that small place away from such great things where this ring found itself....
--Victor Hugo's LoTR (or my poor attempt at it, at least).
gonzoron, you definitely caught the gist of Hugo. It took me five tries to get through the first chapter of Les Miserables...
Melville, anyone?
Oh my... why did I not see this thread until now? Who's been keeping it from me?!!!
Ahem.
Seriously, great stuff all around. I especially love the Stephen King version (Hoops stole my idea, dammit, but did it better than I would have), the Shakespeare one, and I picked up on the Gibson version right away. And the Bogart movie version is TOO funny!
I have to admit I'm a bit surprised nobody's done a Melville version yet. It's been a while, but... here goes.
-------------------------------------
The Lord of the Rings
by Herman Melville
Frodo was a lowly scrivener by trade, until he found the Ring, actually, until the Ring was given to him. The One Ring, a thin band of bright gold, gleaming, flawless. A strip of shining metal, turning and turning upon itself, endless and unbroken, a symbol of raw power with eldritch letters of flame etched into its gleaming surface, a secret that only fire could tell, in words that could not be spoken safely anywhere.
Gandalf had given him the Ring, he they called Mithrandir or the Grey Pilgrim, or not given it so much as placed it in his care. On an evening not so long ago, in Hobbiton near Bag End, on a night illuminated by the moon and with a chilly wind blowing through the tall grass, moving it like waves on the sea, cresting it with a sursuruss of soft motion, then blowing it down again in a cool rush, washing it over and over in the breeze. One could hear the grass moving that way more than one could see it, the rush of air through each individual blade, the rustle of the blades as they brushed against one another, a soft music for the ears when light grew dim. And yet, the majestic sight of the plains could not be matched, sweeping one away in the sheer vastness of it, the rolling green on and on to the horizon and over it. And the moonlight, bathing the fields of grass in its pale glow, gave it an even more otherworldly and beautiful appearance.
And on another evening, more recently, with the wind blowing so majestically through the grassy hills once again, Gandalf the Grey had asked Frodo to take the Ring out of Hobbiton, out of the Shire, to the man-city of Bree, where he would be met and they would then decide upon how to best dispose of it. This Gandalf asked in spite of his knowledge that Frodo had never once been away from the Shire, and he regarded it as his comfortable home, and despite that he himself did not know what to do with the Ring, indeed, feared to touch it himself due to its power and influence over all that lives. This he asked, in spite of all his fears and doubts, because he knew that Hobbits were indeed an honorable group of people, and that their hardy stock were up to the challenge even if they did not, themselves, think it were so. He had seen one Baggins rise most excellently to the occasion once, and he fully expected to see it again on this night.
Imagine his surprise, nay, his consternation, when without moving Frodo, in a singularly mild, firm voice, replied, “I would prefer not to.”
-------------------------------------
I haven't the strength or time for any more, but you get the idea... I don't know if I've fully matched Melville's talent for florid descriptions and wandering sentences... but I tried.
The party emerged from Mordor, each looking thoughtful. Aragorn spoke first.
'It is needless to say that we all regret the loss of Gandalf. He was truly a person of eminence and grace'.
'Yet', interrupted Legolas, 'The cynical and suspicious might find your heartfelt grief at his untimely demise perhaps lacking a touch of sincerity, given that his death at this time perforce elects you to leader of our little group'
' The implication in your words, Legolas, I find disturbing in the extreme', answered Aragorn.
'As do I, although the implication in question is perhaps a different one', said Boromir. 'Why is Aragorn, as you say, 'perforced elected' to leadership? Surely this matter should be referred to a larger referendum than just yourself, Legolas, intelligent though you may be'
'I used the specific appellation...', began Legolas. Gimli interrupted.
'Regardless, and I must say I find these small-minded squabbles of yours irksome and inappropriate, we are on the borders of Lothlorien, a realm whose inhabitants have certain unusual customs, which the unwary traveller often falls foul of. I suggest that our friend Frodo renders the Ring on to me until we are through Lothlorien and in a place of more condign safety, or perhaps an even greater period of time'.
Pippin frowned. 'Your suggestion has merit, although I would deem it wiser that someone more suitable, for instance I, should have the laborious and dangerous duty of actually carrying the Ring...'
'Lord of the Rings', by Jack Vance
Ooh, Fiat Lux! I'm a big fan of the pointedly courteous enchanters of The Dying Earth and that made me smile.
Excellent first post.
quote:
Originally posted by jayjay
Ooh, Fiat Lux! I'm a big fan of the pointedly courteous enchanters of The Dying Earth and that made me smile.
Excellent first post.
I wasn't sure how well-known Vance would be, so I'm glad you've know him.
Excet from JD Salanger's The Lord of the Catcher in the Rye:
When Gandalf told me that Gollum used to be a hobbit, I just got so depressed all of a sudden. I really did. I mean, if he's supposed to be a hobbit, why can't he just BE one? People should just stay what they are and not go changing into goddamn slimey reptile creatures. To be honest, this whole ring thing was really making me depressed as hell. The quest was giving me a big pain in the ass. If anyone ever tries to give you an all powerful ring, don't take it, it will only make you more depressed, I swear to God.
3d progris riport
martch 5 -- Mr Gandalf and Mr Elrond say it dont matter about the writin on the ring. I tolld them i dint carv the words in it and I coudnt see anything on it. They said maybe they will still use me. I told Mr Gandalf that Bilbo never gave me tests like that only riting and reeding. He said Bilbo tolld him I was his bestist pupil in the Baggins family of retarded hobbits and I tryed the hardist becaus I reely wantd to quest I wantid it more even then hobbits who are smarter even then me.
Mr Gandalf askd me how come you want to go to Mordor all by youyrself Frodo. How did you find out about it. I said I dont remembir.
June 20 -- Perhaps I should have waited before going to see Bilbo; or not have gone to see him at all. I don't know. Nothing turns out the way I expect it to. With the clue that Bilbo had gone to Rivendell to finish his book, it was a simple matter to find him.
How could I tell him? What was I supposed to say? Here, look at me, I'm Frodo, the nephew to whom you left the One Ring? Not that I blame you for it, but here I am, all fixed up better than ever. Test me. Ask me questions. I speak twenty languages, living and dead; I'm a tactical whiz and I'm planning a stealthy invasion into Mordor that will make Middle Earth remember me long after I'm gone.
How could I tell him?
I wasn't his nephew. That was another Frodo. The Power of the Ring had changed me, and he would resent me - as some others from the Fellowship resented me - because my growth diminished him. I didn't want that.
June 29 -- Before I go back to Hobbiton I'm going to finish the projects I've started since I left the Cracks of Doom. I visited the New Age of Man Institute for Advanced Study, about the possibility of utilizing the pair-production nuclear photoeffect for exploratory work in biophysics. At first he thought I was a crackpot wizard, but after I pointed out the flaws in some of his older scrolls he asked me to come back to the Institute to discuss my ideas with his Council. I might take him up on that after I've finished my work at the lab -- if there is time. That's the problem, of course. I don't know how much time I have. A month? A year? The rest of my life? That depends on what I find out about the psycophysical side-effects of bearing the One Ring.
Nov 18 -- prof Elrond was very nice when I came back to Rivendell. Frist he was very suspicius but I told him what happened to me and then he looked very sad and put his hand on my shoulder and said Frodo you got guts.
Evrybody looked at me when I walked into the room and started working in the chamber pot sweeping it out like I used to do. I said to myself Frodo if they make fun of you dont get sore because you remember their not so smart like you once thot they were. And besides they were once your frends and if they laffed at you that dont mean anything because they liked you to.
Nov 21 -- I did a dumb thing today I forgot I wasnt in the Felloship any more like I used to be. I went in and sat down in my old seat in the circle and he lookd at me funny and he said Frodo what are you doing. So I said hello Mr. Elrond Im redy for our talk today only I lossed the ring we was using.
Mr Gandalf started to cry and run our of the group and everbody looked at me and I saw alot of them wasnt the same pepul who used to be in my Felloship.
Then all of a suddin I remembird some things about the Cracks of Dum and me getting smart and I said holy smoke I reely pulled a Frodo Baggins that time. I went away before he came back.
Thats why im going away from here for good to the Gray Havens. I dont want to do nothing like that agen. I dont want Mr Gandalf to feel sorry for me. I know evrybody feels sorry for me back in the Shire and I dont want that eather so Im going someplace where there are a lot of other litl pepul like me and nobody cared that Frodo Baggins was once a ringberer and now he cant even reed a book or rite good.
Anyway I bet im the frist dumb person in the world who did something inportent for Middle Erth. I did somthing but I dont remembir what. So I gess its like I did it for all the dumb litl pepul like me in the Shire and allover the world.
Goodby Mr Gandalf and Samwise and evrybody...
P.S. please tel Sauron not to be such a grouch when pepul take his stuff and he woud have more frends. Its easy to have frends if you let pepul share your stuff. Im going to have lots of frends where I go.
P.S. please if you get a chanse put some flowrs on Smeagols memoreal in the bak yard.
Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Sméagol
Jack Handy
Deep Mines, by Jack Handy
Since we couldn't get over Caradhras, we went through Moria.
And, you know, that Balrog isn't so bad.
SuzMac
Sauron Pie
Sauron Pie
(Sung to Don MacLean’s American Pie)
A long long time ago
I can still remember how that Ring used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
I could make those Numenorians dance
And maybe they'd be off my case, for a while.
But Isildur made me shiver
With every digit he did sever.
Elf host on my doorstep
I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried
When I heard that my Balrog died.
But something touched me deep inside
The day the One Ring fried.
So bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove my hoards to the fords
But the hoards did die.
And them Elvin Lords were drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die.
Did you write the Book of Lore?
And do you have faith in Valar’s shore?
If the Elves tell you so.
Do you believe in the Hobbit’s role?
Can he destroy my immortal soul?
And can he reach me in Amon Sûl?
Well, I was not afraid of him
'Cause I thought the fellowship quite dim
But the Hobbits shook off pursuit
They left their all their friends en route.
I was an almighty evil fu*k
With a huge army and a lot of pluck
But I knew that I was out of luck
The day the One Ring fried.
And now I’m singin'
Bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove my hoards to the fords
But the hoards did die.
And them Elvin Lords were drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
Now for Ages I was on my own,
And grew fat on blood and bone.
But that's just how it used to be.
When I whispered to Kings and Queens
My wraiths, they all rode unseen
And I gleefully poisoned those damn trees.
Oh, while Fingol was looking down
The Silmarillion was leaving town.
The Valar court was adjourned
No verdict was returned.
And while Bilbo wrote the Red Book
The orcs were driven off by Took
And Angmar sang dirges in the dark
The day the One Ring fried
We were singing
Bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove my hoards to the fords
But the hoards did die.
And them Elvin Lords were drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
Helter Skelter in Orthanc’s smelter
The Ents pulled down Saruman’s fallout shelter
Eight fathoms deep and filling fast
It poured out foul on to the grass
The Uruk-hai tried for a forward pass
With some Hobbits on the sidelines with a cask.
Now the air was filled with sweet perfume
While hobbits smoked and Ents did “HOOM”!
The Orcs were handy with a lance
Oh, but they never got the chance
'Cause the armies tried to take the field
The Fangorn woods refused to yield
Do you recall whose doom was sealed?
The day the One Ring fried?
We started singing
Bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove my hoards to the fords
But the hoards did die.
And them Elvin Lords were drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
Oh, and there we were all in one place
Armies meeting face to face
We were mighty sure we’d win
But, Baggins was nimble, Baggins was quick
Baggins survived Shelob’s prick
'Cause Gamgee was such a loyal friend.
Oh, and as I spied him on Orodruin
I knew this my day would ruin.
Who knew a hobbit from a dell
Could break my mighty spell?
And as the flames climbed high into the night
Just before I lost my sight
I saw Gandalf laughing with delight
The day the One Ring fried
He was singing
Bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove your hoards to the fords
And your hoards did die.
And us Elvin Lords are drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that you die
This'll be the day that you die
I met a Balrog who sang the blues
And I asked him for some happy news
But he just roared and turned away.
I went down to the hellish forge
Where I'd made the Rings years before
But the forge was cold, no longer fey
And in the skies the Nazgûl screamed
Wormtongue cried, and Saruman schemed.
But not a word was spoken
Mordor’s gates were broken.
And the three men I loathe the most
Aragorn, Elrond and the Wizard Ghost
They caught the last ship for the coast
The day the One Ring fried
And they were singing,
Bye-bye, Ring of the Eye
Drove your hoards to the fords
And your hoards did die.
And them Elvin Lords were drinkin' miruvor and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that you die….
Lord of the Rings—Eminem
Do you know what it’s like to be given a quest
To be told that my best is a jest in the mess of a world my parents confessed?
To be told that I’m going to fail no matter what I do
That everything’s gonna go black
To be given a ring that my uncle’s addicted to like smack?
A ring he won’t let go
`It’s mine,’ Bilbo says, `just let go, Frodo,’
`Fuck you,’ I say, `You know yo flow is blow, that ring ain’t no fucking memento.’
My man Gandalf comes in and lays down the law
Oh no motherfucking Bilbo sees his flaw
‘Take this thing,’ he says to Gan, and hands it over to the man
‘Now it’s been given,’ he says to him, ‘given and now I’m going to Rivendell.’
`Rivendell, hell,” Gandalf says, ‘elves run that place like some fuckin’ jail cell, you do well to go to a Deep of Helm’s,’ he said.
`I’m going to Rivendell,’ Bilbo said. `I’m sorry Gandalf but I’m going. Now take that fucking ring before it blings and fucking makes me cry like some fucking halfling.’
I was hoping for a CATCHER OF THE RYE & by God, it didm't disappoint! *unlike the actual book*
Flowers for Smeagol actually choked me up.
and Sauron Pie- just freakin brilliant!
Suggested Titles I'm too lazy to expand upon-
another Rand GANDALF SHRUGGED
Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins LEFT BEHIND IN MORDOR series -the
Elves & WIzards have all been removed to the Grey Havens except for Elrond, Galadriel, Arwen & Legolas, and Gandalf & Saruman- the latter seeking an alliance with rising charismatic leader Sauronae Mordoria. The Elves & Gandalf join with Gimli, Aragorn & Boromi and Frodo & his hobbit friends to form the
TRIBULATION FELLOWSHIP (Book 2) - their ultimate goal being to destroy Sauronae's Ring which controls all who pledge loyalty to him & receive their own duplicate of THE RING (Book 27), his means of controlling the NEW MIDDLE-EARTH ORDER (Book 58) so that those faithful to Eru Illuvatar can welcome THE RETURN OF THE KING (Book 70).
Bram Stoker's SAURONULA - Solicitor Frodo Baggins travels to Castle Mordor to arrange for mysterious Count Sauron to buy an estate in Middle-Earth (The Count's purpose being to find his missing Ring there). Various characters are the wise Dr. Gandalf Van Mithrandir, Galadriel WestHavens, her suitors Dr Jack Elrond, Lord Merry Shirewood & Pippin Morris, the Ring-maddened fish-eating lunatic Gollum, Aragorn & Arwen Harking.
aw hell- I feel inspired!
Phonographic Journal of Dr. Jack Elrond....
Galdriel had been dead and yet there she was, beautiful & vivid, the crimson vigor in her eyes contrasting with the white of her
death shroud, and in her arms she cradled a whimpering halfling child, trying to put a ring on its finger....
"It is she and yet not she" whispered Dr Gandalf. Lord Merry stepped forward, "Galadriel...?" he asked yearningly.
"Merrrrrry!" she sighed "My Preciousssssss! Come, kiss me! And wear my Rrrrring! You will be my Dark Lord and will be your White Queen and allll shall love me and despairrrr."
Merry nearly stepped into her embrace, but Dr. Gandalf lept forward, brandinshing his glowing staff "I Am the Servant of the Secret Flame and you shall not pass!" She screamed and fled to her crypt.
There we found her, lying totally dormant.
"Dr Gandalf, what is she?" I wept
"She is our Lucy, held in thrall by one of the Count's rings, which is controlled by the One Ring held by friend Frodo. If she were not stopped, she will continue her ravaging of young ones, feeding off the fortunate, giving rings to those less so to make them the parasite spawn of Sauronula that she has become."
"So she can only be freed by the destruction of the Ring?" Pippin
said.
"That is the only way she could be restored to life and freedom, but in that time how many more like her might she enslave and how deeply might this ring corrupt her- till even the poor Ring-debauched lunatic Gollum be more sane and less dangerous?
But we can free her to the Grey Havens. But there is one here who has more right than I to do so- the one who loved her best, whose arm she would choose to deliver the liberating blow."
Merry stepped forward "What must I do?"
.....
At Van Mithrandir's instruction, he removed her ring and placed it,
glistening over her heart, then Merry held aloft the Wizard's staff and with all his might plunged the ground-point through the ring and deep into her heart with a cry of both victory and lament - "I am the Servant of the Secret Flame. Receive my beloved Galadriel, O Elbereth Githoniel!"
White light burst from her chest, silver blood gushed from her mouth and a barrow-wight's scream tore loose from her lips-
then she collapsed with a look of peace. Her eyes looked to the Wizard "Dr Gandalf, my own true friend" she sighed in her own sweet whisper, and then she looked to Merry "My beloved Merry, kiss me." And she died.
The Wizard cleaned her face with a cloth "Yes, Merry, kiss her now. It is safe and right. She is free."
Later, all shaken, we tapped a cask of miruvoir to steady our nerves and enable us to sleep later. "You see what we are up against" said Dr Van Mithrandir, "why we must defeat Count Saronula and destroy his ring. Before he enslaves more like Gollum and our Miss Galadriel and makes them worse than Orcs...
we are pledged to set Middle-Earth free."
I think this has to come close to the most epic thread of the SDMB.
Mercedes Lackey does LotR:
Sorry but it had to be done. - Suzanne
Sam looked down at Frodo & smoothed back his wavy hair from his bruised face. He knew no one would understand but he longed to kiss him. His eyes were burning after long hours spent without sleep watching over Frodo and he knew that he was close to losing control of his desperate emotions.
Frodo roused and said, “Sam, you’re still here.”
“Of course I am, Dear Master. How could I leave you? How could I ever leave you?”
Frodo moved closer to Sam and said, “I’m so cold Sam.” He looked up at him with luminous eyes, eyes that began to fill with soft shining tears. Sam’s heart swelled and he reached down and put his arms around Frodo. “I’ll always be here to keep you warm, Master.”
As they moved closer together, needing warmth, they realized that they needed much more from each other than the warmth of bodies. They needed the warmth that only two souls joined in anguish & purpose could give each other. Frodo stroked Sam’s cheek & shyly said, “You know that I care for you more than anyone, Sam.” All of Sam’s fears spilled away in a river of tears and he tremorously leaned closer and kissed Frodo on his beautiful mouth, as he’d longed to do as long as he could remember.
“Sam, Sam” Frodo whispered into his hair, against his neck, “Let us not worry about tomorrow tonight. And Sam, call me Frodo.”
how could I forget!?!?
Addendum to the Galadriel scene in SAURONULA...
...then she collapsed with a look of peace. Her eyes looked to the Wizard "Dr Gandalf, my own true friend" she sighed in her own sweet whisper, and then she looked to Merry "I.... have passed...
the test. My beloved Merry, kiss me." And she died.
Slim Baggins, from his movie 8 Mile
Look, if you had one ring, of power
That would seize everything you ever wanted - one ring
Would you destroy it or just let it slip?
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, Sam's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop the ring, but he keeps on forgettin
Why he came to Mount Doom, the whole world goes so loud
He opens his hand, but the ring won't come out
He's chokin, the whole world's ending now
The clock's run out, time's up, over now
Lord of the Ringpiece
by William S Burroughs
Ever see an elf shot? I saw a wight catch one in Mordor. We rigged his grave with a one way looking glass and charged an orc kin to watch. He never got the arrow out of his arm, they don't if the shot is right. That's the way they found him, barrow full of buried treasure, dawn of a new day. The look in his eye when he was hit - it was tasty. The Took cafe overlooked one end of Bag End. A maze of hobbit holes, tiny barns and stables. Perilously low doorways entered into underground lairs. On a stool sits naked Gandalf, sucking glowing leaves through an alabadter pipe. Wizards have no livers and nourish themselves excluvisely on smoke. A thin, translucent beard covers razor sharp teeth. They have razor sharp staffs with which they frequently blast each other to shreds in fights over manuscripts. These wizards secrete an addicting fluid from their upright staffs which prolongs epics by producing sequels. Adicts of wizard fluids are known of fans.
Any rings for Bilbo?
Ring Quest by Anne McCaffrey
Prologue
Anor, in the Tolkinian Sector, was a golden G-type star. Endor, its third planet, was enveloped by an atmosphere that sentient beings could breathe, boasted water they could drink, and possessed a gravity that permitted many life forms to walk confidently erect. It had five major peoples (elves, dwarves, hobbits, men, ents) along with numerous stray groups it had attracted and held in recent millennia (wizards, orcs, goblins, trolls).
About every 200 cycles around Anor, Endor came into contact with a pernicious Maiar, known by various names—Sauron, Gorthaur the Cruel, the Necromancer, the Eye, the Nameless One, Ringmaker, Black Hand. His evil penetrated Endor spreading insidious threads that grew, multiplied and destroyed all life. The sentient peoples bonded together to fight this recurring menace. But not all believed the red eye would return yet again.
3018, the eleventh month of the twentieth cycle
The first rays of the sun glanced over the weyr’s star stone. The blue watch dragon let out an uneasy keen. Eowyn, Weyrwoman of Edoras, paced the cool flag stones of her weyr, her bare feet pushing aside a few stray grains of sand. She had awoken early after an uneasy night, unable to banish thoughts of the vivid the red eye growing larger in the east.
By the Shards of Narsil, how dared those hidebound oldtimers at Rivendell hold a so-called Council of Elrond and fail to inform her! She’d expect no less of Boromir. But the others!! They must, all of them, even the usually reliable G’mli and L’golas, be dazzled by that upstart Weyrwoman Arwen and her proddy dragon Eevenstarth.
She'd learned last night that F’rodo, son of D’rogo, rider of rogue dragon Samth, had apparently impressed a golden fire lizard, giving it the outlandish name Ringth. Master Harper Gandalf was of course only telling her half the story in true harper style. He’d admitted that the firelizard egg had come from a pirated clutch from the queen Precious, stolen by the renegade outcast Gollum and later appropriated by F’rodo’s uncle. This much was certain, but he would tell no more.
Fortunately his youthful apprentices, Meriadoc and Peregrin, were less closed mouthed. A few cups of Edoran wine and she'd gleaned from them the fact that there was some dispute about ownership of Ringth. As if a firelizard could look to more than one being at a time. Well, she'd have something to say about this! There would be time later to deal with the intractable Lord Holder Aragon. Why did that man distract her so.
A la Mercedes Lackey:
Legolas looked longingly at Gandalf in that white Wizard outfit of his. Just the sight of him astride Shadowfax made the elf's heart beat faster with a mix of love and desire! "I know he's not really 'yrch' like me, but since he walks in two worlds at once, maybe....." thought the son of Thranduil.
"Gandalf", he called. "Let me help you down off of your horse!"
"He's not a horse, dammit!" replied the member of the istari testily. Ever since Gandalf had traded his grays in for his new whites, he seemed more aloof and unapproachable.
:I'm not a horse, dammit: said Shadowfax, mindspeaking directly for the first time to the stunned Teleri. :I am an Oromëa! A colleague, if you will. If you and Gandalf get it on, can I watch?:
Nice one, Zane. I didn't see yours at first. I think you hit Lackey closer to dead center than I did.
Thanks Quagdop! I enjoyed your's too. You had lots of right on details I left out of my ML mimic.
Gene Roddenbury
Well, I can't take credit for this one Alternative Lord of the Rings:
Lord of the Rings, by Gene Roddenbury
"The Halflings, cap'n, they will na take the strain"
"Strider, we've got to get out of this snow. Legolas, did you get a reading on that creature?"
"Fascinating, Captain. It appears to be an unknown creature that lurks in the pool waiting for passing strangers. Ecologically implausible, captain."
"Do you know what it is?"
"I believe I said it was unknown, Dr Gimli. Logically, if I knew what it was, then it wouldn't be unknown."
"Cap'n, we're in some sort of temporal warp, stretching and deforming the plot. The snow should take place a day before our encounter with this beastie."
"Captain, what are we going to do."
"Boromir, put on that red armour."....
Robert W. Service
The Cremation of Sam Gamgee
There are strange things done in the Middle Earth sun
By moiling for rings of gold;
The Hobbit shire has seen transpire
What would make your blood run cold;
Now I've seen a Gollum and a what-dya-call-em,
The dudes that look like a tree.
But the sorriest sight occurred on the night
I cremated Sam Gamgee.
Sam was a friend from old Bag End, where the hobbits work and play.
Said he, "all I need is my pipe weed and a chance for some hobbit bootay."
Then Gandalf the Grey comes up one fine day and sticks me with this "One True Ring."
So I get the hell off to far Rivendell and Sam comes along for the fling.
We're told this here ring is a powerful thing, but using it must be eschewed.
So then it's my fate to be Ringwraith bait; If I use it I'm royally screwed.
I'm not so annoyed that it must be destroyed, but I am assigned to the chore.
O'er mountain and steppe I've now got to schlep this friggin' ring off to Mordor.
When up in the pass of Mount Caradhras, it's cold as an old titches' wit.
My frostbite's beginning, but Sam keeps on grinning, that genially, happy old twit.
He's so optimistic, I'm going ballistic, his throat I would so like to cut.
Talk of your cold! Right through the cloak's fold, it's freezing my furry Hobbutt.
We get to the Crack of Doom and alack, Sam flubs up on Gollum-guarding.
So here comes old Smeagul, and just for a giggle, I give him the finger -- and ring.
So I turn to old Sam, with whom ticked off I am. I am smiling to cover my ire.
I said, "My Samwise, you go in there likewise," and I kicked his butt into the fire.
There are strange things done in the Middle Earth sun
By moiling for rings of gold;
The Hobbit shire has seen transpire
What would make your blood run cold;
The ancient knights have seen queer sights,
But the strangest they ever did see
Was that night in the gloom at the Mountain of Doom
I cremated Sam Gamgee.
|Topcat - Flowers for Sméagol is brilliant. I too choked up. Flowers for Algernon remains the only SF story to have me in tears.
quote:
Originally posted by Firebat023
Lord of the Rings—Eminem
Do you know what it’s like to be given a quest
To be told that my best is a jest in the mess of a world my parents confessed?
To be told that I’m going to fail no matter what I do
That everything’s gonna go black
To be given a ring that my uncle’s addicted to like smack?
A ring he won’t let go
`It’s mine,’ Bilbo says, `just let go, Frodo,’
`Fuck you,’ I say, `You know yo flow is blow, that ring ain’t no fucking memento.’
My man Gandalf comes in and lays down the law
Oh no motherfucking Bilbo sees his flaw
‘Take this thing,’ he says to Gan, and hands it over to the man
‘Now it’s been given,’ he says to him, ‘given and now I’m going to Rivendell.’
`Rivendell, hell,” Gandalf says, ‘elves run that place like some fuckin’ jail cell, you do well to go to a Deep of Helm’s,’ he said.
`I’m going to Rivendell,’ Bilbo said. `I’m sorry Gandalf but I’m going. Now take that fucking ring before it blings and fucking makes me cry like some fucking halfling.’
<blushing>
Aw hey...thanks.
The story has that same effect on me.
Not a problem, Fingolfin. I actually had a hell of a lot of fun writing it, and I'm looking forward to actually doing the whole Fellowship of the Ring in rap form. It's fantastic making Hobbits rhyme with "John Wayne Bobbit."
quote:
Originally posted by ennui and dejection
Excet from JD Salanger's The Lord of the Catcher in the Rye:
When Gandalf told me that Gollum used to be a hobbit, I just got so depressed all of a sudden. I really did. I mean, if he's supposed to be a hobbit, why can't he just BE one? People should just stay what they are and not go changing into goddamn slimey reptile creatures. To be honest, this whole ring thing was really making me depressed as hell. The quest was giving me a big pain in the ass. If anyone ever tries to give you an all powerful ring, don't take it, it will only make you more depressed, I swear to God.
ESPN
Commentator #1 And the teams are coming out for the second half and the Fellowship really has to come up with something here, right Bob? Espescially since Boromirs injury seems to have sidelined him for the rest of the game.
Commentator #2 Yes, exactly right there Niel. They should throw their game plan out the window. They're looking at third down and forever and they need to come up with some answers.
Commentator #1 They can't cough it up here. I mean if they loose the Ring here the rout is on, right Bob? I mean, obviously, the final score is the only statistic that matters, right?
Commentator #2 Absolutely Niel, turnovers will be the key here. Remember that in the end off the day the team with possession of the Ring is the team which will be leaving the field as winners. And since their offense has been sputtering all day you need to play tight and not make any mistakes at this point.
Commentator #1 Gimli seems confident and has stated in the half time that he’ll bekilling a lot off opponents today. But he’s up for a tough task dontcha think Bob?
Commentator #2 Yes. I couldn't agree with you more Niel. Sauron plays in-your-face defense and Middle Earth is always a tough place to play.
Commentator #1 Aaaaand we’re off! Wow, look at that! Great fake play by Aragon. The defenders are keying off on him and Frodo is going right down the side line without a defender near him.
Commentator #2 That was a blown coverage there by the Nazguls. At this point they need to prevent the big play and stay in their deep zones.
Commentator #1 Looks like we've got some extra-curricular activity on the field. Gullom is covering Sam and Frodo like a blanket. I believe that’s a penalty, isn’t it Bob?
Commentator #2 You’re right there Niel. The refs really should call that one. OUCH! Looks like we've got a player shaken up. Sauroman got blindsided! That really cleaned his clock. He's slow getting up.
Commentator #1 He really got his bell rung there. We hate to speculate on the injury... but it looks as if he might have broken his wand.
Commentator #2 In any case he’ll feel that one on Monday, Niel. I hope it’s not to bad. Sauron can ill-afford to lose him at this point.
Commentator #1 Right, well Frodo is coming out a new player this half. If he only could get close to the goal line we got a new game on our hands. Right Bob?
Commentator #2 Right you are Niel. This is really what the game needs. You really gotto hand it to Gandalf. He’s coaching the socks off Sauron at this point.
Commentator #1 We’re going down to the sidelines were Leslie has gotten hold of Mr. Balrog who was at the loosing end off last weeks upset. Over to you Leslie
you wanted Ayn Rand, you got Ayn Rand...
Excerpts from Ayn Rand's LordHead of the Rings Shrugged
Excerpt 1
The Lord of the Nazgul overheard Frodo Baggins saying to the tittering hobbits, "Well, the Ring is the root of all evil anyway, and being enslaved by the Ring, the Nazgul are typical examples of greed and selfishness."
Frodo did not think that the Lord of the Nazgul could have heard it, but he saw the Ringwraith turning to them with a gravely courteous smile, invisible to all but the Ringbearer under his sable hood.
"So you think that the Ring is the root of all evil?" said the Lord of the Nazgul. "Have you ever asked what is the root of the Ring? The Ring is a tool of power, which can't exist unless there is a benevolent ruler strong enough to bring order and happiness to Men's lives. The Ring is the symbol and the carrier of that power. The Ring is a tool of invisibility with which to gain knowledge and hide from enemies. The Ring is the material shape of the principle that those who wish to create a world fit for living in must acquire the might and the justification to do it. The Ring is not the tool of the moochers, who soak off of others' power and benefit by it, who claim the Ring out of need, and do not even have the strength to use it, or of the anarchists, who would have you destroy it. The Ring was made possible by one who wished to bring such benevolent power into the world. Is this what you consider evil?
(and so on for five hundred paragraphs...)
Excerpt 2
"Excuse me," asked Aragorn firmly, "but why have we rowed ashore again?"
Legolas and Gimli looked up guiltily from their beached boat. It appeared to have been woefully mishandled and bore scratches from many rocks that the inexpert rowers had been unable to avoid.
Legolas stared straight ahead, saying nothing. "It's his fault!" screamed Gimli, red in the face. "He kept doing all the rowing, and hogging the oar. He thinks he's better than all the rest of us. I deserved my chance and I did the best I could! It wasn't my responsibility!"
Excerpt 3
The White Tower of Ecthelion stood at center of the inner circle of the great city. The archway over the gate was a Numenorean portico decorated with Noldorin motifs. Massive Proto-Gondolinian columns framed the doorway. The tower itself had been designed by Guy Francondil of the firm Francondil & Keatingmir. It was an exact replica of the Spire of Khazad-Dum, except that it was topped with a marble statue of Elendil in the style of the statue of Celebrimbor at Eregion.
In front of the Tower was the Court of the Fountain and the grassy lawn where once had grown the White Tree. It had been converted into a People's Garden for Sub-Normal Ents.
Scenes from Barry Sonnenfeld's Get Hobbity
with Dennis Farina as Gandalf "Bones" Istaroni
Gandalf: I'm from the Blessed-fuckin'-Realm and you wanna show me the White Mountains, huh? And what about the horses, do you breed out the black ones, or have they all just run away?
Cheery Rohan Guide: They say the black horses are being given in tribute to Mordor.
Ray Barboni: That's what they say, huh? What a bunch of fuckin bullshit.
* * * *
Saruman: Grima, look at me.
Wormtongue: I'm looking at you.
Saruman: No, look at me the way I'm looking at you.
* * * *
Wormtongue: Look at me, Gandalf. Look at me.
Gandalf: Take a look at this! (fires lightning bolts from staff at Wormtongue, trashes Theoden's throneroom.)
Gandalf: This is just ...(zap!!)... what I needed (zap!) after a long fuckin' horse ride.
quote:
Ray Barboni: That's what they say, huh? What a bunch of fuckin bullshit.
With apologies to those of you with talent, and Simon and Garfunkel:
The Ring Of Sauron (to the tune of "The Sound of Silence")
Hello Frodo, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a Nazgul softly creeping,
Tried to kill you while you were sleeping,
And the sword-tip that was planted in your arm
Still remains
As does the Ring of Sauron.
In Moria we walked alone
In narrow tunnels carved from stone,
'Neath the halo of a staff,
Until Merry made his really big gaff
When the Balrog and I fought on the bridge
From whence we fell
Away from the Ring of Sauron.
And on Emyn Muir I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People fighting without the ring,
People hearing without listening,
People slaying wraiths that thought they would not die
As Frodo tries
To end the Ring of Sauron.
"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Where the ring-bearer goes.
In the mountain Gollum turned on him,
and wrestled Frodo for the ring.
And the ring with Frodos finger fell,
And was destroyed
In Mount Doom of Mordor
And the people bowed and prayed
To Aragorn, the kind they'd made.
And the Fellowship returned,
And found Saruman in their home.
And the hobbits said, "The hate of Saruman
is the poison in Grimas mind
And he responds in kind."
And ends the evil of Sauron.
Topcat, Flowers for Sméagol and Zane, Sauron pie:
You are my overlords. You rule my world with an iron fist.
Oh, and whoever was muttering about LotR rap:
http://lotr.fistfulayen.com
--Mouse
theMouse, Lord of the Rhymes blows me away. I'm going to go run and hide in my closet.
thanks
quote:
Originally posted by theMouse
Topcat, Flowers for Sméagol and Zane, Sauron pie:
You are my overlords. You rule my world with an iron fist.
Oh, and whoever was muttering about LotR rap:
http://lotr.fistfulayen.com
--Mouse
Thanx, Mouse!
LotR & Peace by JRR Tolstoy
Ok, as far as we know all the family names and the elvish words are correct, but pardon any errors.
Zane & Suzanne
LotR & Peace by JRR Tolstoy
Book 41
Chapter 382
Ringbearer (Ret.) Sir Frodo Drogonovich Baggins gazed upon everything as he entered Lothlorien as he’d not been here for years and was visiting because soon the Elves would be gone, taking with them all the higher graces, but tonight there would be a farewell fete hosted by the most renown social adept Contessa Galadriel Artanis Nerwen Finarfinovna, confidant of wizards, beloved by Men, Hobbits, Dwarves & Elves equally, not only for her sharp wit, but even more importantly, for her influence with Kings and her most stylish gatherings.
Contessa Galadriel Artanis Nerwen Finarfinovna was speaking animatedly to Princess Eowyn Eomundovskia formerly of Rohan but who’s fortunes had taken a decided turn for the better upon her marriage to Prince Faramir Denethorov II, Steward of Gondor (upon the unfortunate & scandalous death of his father, Steward Denethor Ecthelionov II) and lately Lord of Ithilien, and who was her favored companion when all things related to gossip were concerned.
“Toi harya alkar laisi“ she said, “You know that ever since Mayor Samwise Hamfastski Gamgee’s daughter came out, everyone in the Shire has been delighted with her.”
Princess Eowyn Eomundovskia nodded her head and inquired, “Would that be Elanor?”
“Anwa. Oh and look who has just arrived and can tell us all about her! Sir Frodo. We shall have to catch him up and ask him all the news. Sir Frodo, my dear! Come join us,” called Galadriel Finarfinovna.
Sir Frodo Drogonovich Baggins gazed about the glade, searching for the caller, until his eyes lit upon Princess Eowyn Eomundovskia and Contessa Galadriel Artanis Nerwen Finarfinovna. He began to walk toward them, feeling dejected & preoccupied with his current status, both among the Elves and in the Shire as hero without a place, for amongst the Elves he was respected and honored but still an adorable curiosity, while amongst the Shire-folk his status was uncertain, his deeds and actions not wholly understood and often looked upon with doubt, for the Shire-folk were a pastoral lot of a class little higher than serfs in apprehension of the greater world around them. Overhearing bits of gay conversation that seemed to be full of frivolity and little else, from all about him as he made his way towards the two women, he looked upon their youthful countenances and wondered, “How can they be so happy? How can their minds be so free of the burdens that weigh so heavily upon me, seemingly without care or concern, as if nothing mattered in all of Middle-Earth. How can I become as they are? Free from these ponderings that drive me to search and search fruitlessly for an answer when I do not even know the question?”
Sir Frodo arrived before the pair of jewel- and smile-bedecked creatures and took the hand of first one, then the other, giving each gloved hand a kiss and smiling genuinely but rather half-heartedly.
Addendum to J.R.R. Tolstoy
Opps! We forgot:
This follows with book after chapter after book of descriptions of social status, rank, fortune, wars and existential ponderings ad nauseum.
Follows Topcat's, above [though functionally plagiarism, below]:
They need me, thought Ender Baggins, and if I fail, there may not be any Shire to return to.
But he did not believe it. Gandolf's urgency was just another trick. Then the minions of Sauron appeared, and his weariness turned to despair.
He heard Sam behind him coughing nervously. He was beginning to realize that Baggins didn't know what to do.
I don't care anymore, he thought. You can keep your Ring.
Baggins laughed. Sauron was taking this all so seriously. Forget it, Gandalf. I don't care if I pass your test.
The enemy was concentrated on Baggins, closing him in. Excellent, thought Baggins. Closer. Come closer....
Then he whispered an oath and the Ring dropped like a rock into the volcano. Baggins leaned in to watch what happened. Mount Doom, which filled half the simulator field, began to bubble. Within three seconds all of Mordor burst apart.
Baggins took off his headphones, and only then realized there was just as much noise behind him. Elves were hugging each other, laughing, shouting; some were weeping. Elrond detached himself from the others and to Baggins's surprise he embraced him, held him tightly, and whispered, "Thank you, thank you, Baggins." He tried to make sense of this.
The crowd parted and Gandalf walked through. He came straight to Baggins and held out his hand.
"You made the hard choice, halfling. All or nothing. Congratulations. It's all over."
All over. Baggins didn't understand.
Gandalf laughed. "Baggins, you never played me!" He grew serious. "Baggins, for the past few months, you have been the Ringbearer. There were no games, the battles were real, and the only enemy you fought was Sauron himself. You did it. You."
Real. Not a game. Baggins's mind was too tired to cope with it. They weren't just points of light on the screen, they were real orcs and wraiths that he had fought with and the real Ring he had destroyed. He walked through the crowd, ignoring their rejoicing. When he got to his own room, he ate a second breakfast, stripped off his mithral, climbed into bed, and slept.
Coming soon: Speaker for the Undead.
The Ring: A Freudian Analysis
The ring is clearly a symbol of the mother-figure with which the bearer feels the irresistable urge to thrust his finger (obviously a phallic symbol). The ensuing penetration of the ring is accompanied by a deep sense of elation but also a deep sub-concious shame manifested by the sudden invisibility. The ring wearer does not want others to witness his shaming fetish but is also, at the same time, acutely aware that a sudden disappearence must bring acute attention upon him. Therefore, the ring bearer must find a private moment in which to succumb to the guilty pleasure of the ring.
It is interesting to note that the urge to wear the ring becomes irresistably strong in the prescence of the Nazgul, obviously representing the 9 faces of fatherhood. The father figure sublimating his own acts of unconcious jealously towards the adopted son for his lust acts as a reinforcer towards the sons manifest desire.
The Fellowship in this case clearly represents the sons attempt to overthrow his father in order to fully take advantage of his lust for his mother. Each charecter in the fellowship corresponds to a different facet of the personality and they are constantly in conflict with each other over the desired action that they must take.
The creation of the ring itself must be noted as interesting as it was the original Ur-Father figure who manifested such an entity. From this, it is clear that the son figure is projecting his own unconcious lust upon his father. This is probably an sub-concious attempt to rationalise the killing of his father. The proposed destruction of the ring is a vain attempt to remove the power from his over controlling father and break away in order to gain his own freedom of action. However, it is clear that the son figure could never really destroy is lust and merely tries to repress it until the pressure becomes so intense that he finally performs a complete shift in personality and embraces his mother-lust.
Midnight in Mordor- Laurel K Hamilton
It was almost morning when I walked into my Hobbit Hole, blood drying under my fingernails. But it wasn't my blood, so that's ok. I kicked off my black boots, and left a trail of clothes on my way to the tub.
Black trews, black tunic, black vest. My leather scabbard that hold my glowing magical sword. I don't always need a magical sword, but it's better to have one. You never know.
I had finished scrubbing drying blood of my body, and rinsing it out of my curly brown hair. Baggins hair, my mother had always said. At least she used to say it, before she died.
I was combing out my hair when I felt it. Magic. It's a feeling like smooth fur rubbing on your skin. I looked around, and dropped my hand to the scabbard. Sure, clothes would be nice, but a blade would keep me from getting killed. Survival wins out over modesty almost always.
He was at the doorway, leaning casually. Gandalf. I had no idea how old he was, but I could feel power leaking off of him, spreading like a pool of cold. I shivered, and reached for my tunic with my left hand. My right never strayed from my sword. Gandalf had never tried to kill me. That didn't mean he wouldn't.
..... I'm to tired to keep going on this. If I'm up to it, I'll jump on more tonite.
Excerpt from 'Pulp Fellowship' by Tarantino (please excuse the length)
2. EXT. HORSE DRAWN WAGON (MOVING) - MORNING
A rickety Horse Drawn Wagon creaks down the dusty back roads of the Shire. On the drivers board are two people-- one a Wizard, the other a Hobbit – the wizard wearing Homespun Robes and a pointy hat, the Hobbit standard Hobbit clothes, with a thin tie. Their names are Frodo (Hobbit) and Gandalf (Wizard). Gandalf holds the reigns.
FRODO
That did it, man -- I'm fuckin'
goin', that's all there is to it.
GANDALF
You'll most certainly enjoy it. But You know what the funniest thing about
Gondor is?
FRODO
What?
GANDALF
It is the small differences.
many the same things we have here,
they have also there, but there they
are somewhat different.
FRODO
How so?
GANDALF
Well, in Rohan, you can buy
Pipeweed at a theatre. And I
don't mean in a rolling paper either.
They give you a pipe full of weed,
like in a guest in your parlour!
In Minas Tirith, you can buy
weed at Denethor's. Also, you
know what they call a Long Bottom
Leaf in Gondor?
FRODO
They don't call it a Long
Bottom Leaf?
GANDALF
No, they have no sense of the Shire
there, they wouldn't know what the
fuck a ‘Long Bottom Leaf’ is.
FRODO
What'd they call it?
GANDALF
Sweet Galenas.
FRODO
(repeating)
Sweet Galenas… What'd they
call Silver Star?
GANDALF
Silver star remains Silver Star, but
they call it the ‘King’s’ Silver Star.
FRODO
What do they call Old Toby?
GANDALF
I know not, I could not find Old Toby.
But you know what they put on Mushrooms
in Gondor instead of Bacon?
FRODO
What?
GANDALF
Mutton.
FRODO
Goddamn!
Ok, this one's not quite funny enough to do the whole thing, (it would be more of a visual anyway). But, a sketch of Muppet Lord of the Rings:
Kermigorn, son of Kermithorn, AKA Swimmer falls in love with Pigwen, the elf maiden.
Waldorf the Grey tells Fozzie Baggins that he has to destroy the ring. (Waldorf is later imprisoned briefly by his old friend Statlerman the White.) He is joined on the quest by Samwise the Eagle, Pepegrin the King Prawn, Merrilla the Chicken, Rizzolas the elf-rat, Gonzli the Dwarf, Kermigorn, and Animal (son of the steward of Gondor).
Sauron is played by Uncle Deadley, or perhaps one of the Skegsis from the Dark Crystal.
[QUOTE]Originally posted by Shalmanese
[b]The Ring: A Freudian Analysis
That was all too Freudian, Shalmanese. Very nice.
quote:
Originally posted by theMouse
Oh, and whoever was muttering about LotR rap:
http://lotr.fistfulayen.com
--Mouse
Frodo had no choice. He was only a dreamer. Dr Gandalf injected him with the elvish elixer, and counted backward from three. At one, Frodo lay sprawled on the couch. Now, thought Gandalf. He carefully lowered the Augmentor to Frodo's temples.
Dr Gandalf smiled placatingly at Ms. Galadriel, the elvish lawyer Frodo had dragged to this session, interrupting and even threatening their work. "He is Voluntary, as you can see," he offered. "Quite a troubling case. You heard how he talked about his 'Precious."
"But you say he's not psychotic?" Galadriel regarded him through narrowed eyes. The wizard practically stank of his own self-regard. Galadriel looked at the diplomas over his desk. She'd bet his doctorate from the Moriah School of Mining was honorary.
Ignoring the advocate, Gandalf prowled about the room, studying Frodo from different angles as he lay crumpled on the couch, the Augmentor pulsing softly. "Something harder this time," muttered Gandalf, glancing at the spectacular view of Mount Doom through his handsome office window. Something noble. Worthy of my powers--of Frodo's powers, he amended himself grimly. Something to bring peace to Middle Earth. Impulsively he leaned to Frodo's hairy ear and whispered, "The Dark Lord! Remove him from his Dark Throne!"
Frodo's eyes twitched under his lids. He murmured something just below the threshold of Gandalf's hearing. A subtle change in the room's light made Gandalf look up suddenly. Mount Doom was erupting. Rivers of orange flame licked the broad dressed foundation stones of the Misty Mountains Oneirological Institute. Screaming wraiths twisted in the firey wind, while orcs by the millions marched up Saruman Street.
Frodo lay supine, his breathing unchanged. My god, thought Gandalf, reaching for the Augmentor with trembling, grey fingers. He dreamed as I asked. The Dark Lord is off his throne. But not deatroyed. He walks among us in downtown Rivendell and all the cities of elves and men.
Frodo opened his eyes. "You changed something, didn't you?" he gasped. He gave the window only a glance, as if he already knew what he would see. He closed his eyes again. "You're no good at this Dr Gandalf, you let your ego make choices for the world." He bolted upright suddenly, grabbing Gandalf's bony wrist in a surprisingly strong embrace. "Galadriel! Where is she?"
Gandalf looked stupidly at Frodo's hand. Something was very wrong. "What do you mean?"
"Galadriel! The Voluntary Treatment advocate! She was just here! How can you not remember?" Frodo buried his face in his hands. Could even he remember Galadriel? Had she been an elf when first he met her? Or might she have been a dwarf that time? Frodo became aware of a strange lightness to his hands as he wearily rubbed his eyes. "The Ring! Damn you, Gandalf! What did you make me dream?" He wept. "What if I never dream the Ring again?"
--Ursula K. Le Guin, The Wraithe of Heaven
First: highest praise to jiHymas for the P.G. Wodehouse...especially
quote:
Originally posted by jiHymas
Something to do with elves, no doubt. I had been thinking of making a start by putting one of the elven marching songs on the title page, but all I can remember is 'Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong, I hurry along', which would never do. Elrond would never approve.
P. G. Wodehouse
quote:
Originally posted by carlotta
First: highest praise to jiHymas for the P.G. Wodehouse.
__________________
James I. Hymas
jiHymas@himivest.com
Yo, ho, mateys.
Captain "Lucky Jack" Aragorn paced anxiously on the foredeck of the Ungainly. He paused to put the glass to his eye, and surveyed his modest fleet. All indicated from their pennants a readiness to make way: the trim little bark Unlikely, and abaft of her, the xebec Unfathomable, formerly the Lugburz before it was taken from the orcs in the Bay of Belfalas. A nice bit of prize taken that day, he thought enviously. Still, he counted himself fortunate to have cadged this command from the admiralty, given the low regard in which Adm. Celeborn held him.
"Mr. Gimli, if you please" Aragorn barked.
"Aye, sir" from the dwarf.
"My compliments to Dr Legolas, and ask him to join me on the foredeck."
"Aye sir" and he waddled below. Dwarves make such excellent seamen, thought Aragorn. Never complaining about low ceilings. Pity there are so few of them in the service.
"Splendid day, Jack. Any chance of going ashore? There is a variety of neekerbreeker in this area that I dearly long to add to my collection."
"Not if we're to make Amon Hen by nightfall, and not with this wind. Would you join me for dinner? There's still some of that admirable miruovir, and then we can try the lament for Gandalf."
"Splendid."
The Argonath Command, by Patrick O'Brian
quote:
Originally posted by jiHymas
Thanks! My personal favourites are Pucky Schumer's The Cremation of Sam Gamgee and Topcat's Flowers for Sméagol.
The Warlord of Middle Earth
Zane, want to add this to that thread for me?
Samwise
The Warlord of Middle Earth
by Edgar Rice Tolkien
Samwise Carter, once of the Shire where he had been Captain in the Bounders
during the unpleasantness between the North Farthing and South Farthing,
looked over the bow of the canoe he had been given by Galadriel, Jeddara of
Lothlorien. Like all Midsoomian vessels, it was propelled by the 8th
Midsoomian ray, which has not yet been discovered on our Earth, but which
has remarkable properties of lift and propulsion, and by which, the
marvelous canoe he was in was able to make such incredible time down the
canal they were on. This canal, Anduin, was the greatest of all the canals
of Midsoom, stretching from the far north, down through Gondor, before
emptying into one of the great dead seas of Midsoom. As his hip was the
short sword Sting, which, as best as I am able to understand from his
descriptions of its inner workings, was powered with Magic, which involves
many elements, chief among them Radium.
Somewhere ahead was the Lord of the Nazgul. He was a Ringwraith of Midsoom,
with translucent flesh that could not be seen be normal sight, but which
under the proper conditions could be seen to be of the palest white. Not
like ivory, but a stark, lack of any color. The Ringwraiths were in charge
of a perverted and depraved cult of Midsoom, one that he had only recently
exposed. They would wait at the end of the quest to destroy the Ring, and
feed on those who attempted to bypass the valley of Mordor, and the Orcs and
Trolls who lived there. The Orcs were another race, large and massive, with
skin the color of diseased vegetation, and great, tearing teeth. They would
assail the pilgrims seeking to complete the quest, and rend their flesh.
Worse than them were the Trolls, which came from great trees around the
valley, growing like pods then bursting and revealing the monsters within.
And with the Lord of the Nazgul was his beloved Rosie Cotton, Princess of
the Shire. And no matter how much of Midsoom he had to cross, he would find
her, his beloved, and take her in his arms again, crushing her against his
chest, and kiss her full upon the lips.
Samwise Carter looked ahead eagerly. He would catch them, and the Lord of
the Nazgul would fall to his blade, and the quest would be completed by him,
and the people of Midsoom would finally be free of the evil cult.
Hmmm... I wonder if any of the following comic authors might be following this thread:
I found this on my table at Denny's the other day.
Cast into the LAKE OF FIRE
By Jack Chick
As the travellers left the forest, they saw a lone figure crossing the empty distances toward them. "It's a man," Legolas said. "He's wearing an odd tunic, buttoned down the front yet it has no collar. And he carries a book bound in hides." Gandalf scowled and knitted his brows.
The lonely walker approached closer, and Boromir hailed him. "Hoy! State thy name and business, oddly dressed one!"
"I am called Jack," the strange man said. "Have you been saved?"
"Saved? Saved from what?" Aragorn asked.
"Why from the flames of hell, of course," with that Jack walked closer, reached into the pockets of his garb and removed a handful of folded parchments. "Do you know God?"
Merry shook his head. "I don't like this one. He reminds me of that Grima Wormtongue."
"True enough. He's got that cheesy moustache. It's creepy," Sam shuddered.
Boromir and Aragorn had moved toward Jack and he addressed them closely, as if he didn't want the rest of the party to hear. "You can only be saved through Jesus. But first you must cleanse yourself from this non-human demon spawn. Dwarves. Elves. Hobbits. They're abominations and creations of Satan. To say nothing of that wizard practicing the dark arts!"
The two doughty warriors eyed each other quizzically. "God? Jesus? Satan? Who are these people. What is this madness of which you speak?" Boromir demanded. Gimli and Legolas, who were noticably offended by the strange man's tactless comments about their kindreds, slid noiseless behind the disturbingly sincere man.
Jack closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if to gather his reserves of reverence. "Why God created the world and everything in it and rules supreme over it. Jesus is his only son and Satan is God's greatest adversary. You may only receive God's grace by accepting his son Jesus."
The two men, to say nothing of the hobbits, were baffled by the strange man's odd words. Gandalf reached for his wand. "Cease speaking such blasphemous nonsense!" he demanded, "Iluvatar is the creator and master of all the world, its hosts and the beasts which crawl, fly and swim!"
"No. Iluvatar does not exist," Jack said. "My God is the only true God."
Gimli and Legolas, who had been barely able to contain their rage at the wanderer's hateful speech, were pushed beyond the limits of their endurance by this final outrage. Gimli's axe flashed and Legolas's bow thrummed in the same instant. In the merest moment the strange man's head was rolling across the ground and his heart was pierced by an ashen shaft.
"HAW HAW HAW!!!" roared Gimli.
"Must have been some kind of left over orc or something," Pippin grumbled. Frodo just nodded sadly.
But unfortunately, because Jesus would not be born until thousands of years had passed in the newly designated fourth age, the entire fellowship was not, and could not have been, saved.
So God cast the entire Fellowship into the lake of fire to suffer eternal torment for all eternity.
With all the Catholics. And Mormons. And Muslims. And everybody else who doesn't agree with Jack Chick.
God Loves You.
THE END
CHICK TRACTS WORK! Send Jack some money and he'll send you some tracts.
Your pal,
Jack
The Hobbit
By Michael Palin, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Eric Idle and Graham Chapman
"What have I got in my pockets?" Bilbo asked
"Ssssss, 'tisn't fair. You must give me some guesses." Gollum said.
"Very well. Go ahead then."
"A watch,"
"No,"
"A candle,"
"No,"
"Keys?"
"No,"
"String,"
"No,"
"A fish?"
"Not as such."
"A knife."
"No,"
"Cuff links?"
"No,"
"Thumbtacks,"
"No,"
"A lump of cheese,"
"I did have, but the cat's eaten it."
"Did he?"
"She, sir."
"A ping-pong ball?"
"No,"
"A handful of filberts?"
"No,"
"Roll of duct tape?"
"No,"
"Feathers?"
"No,"
"Very small rocks?"
"Only on Thursdays. Actually, it's a..."
"No wait, I'm keen to guess. A gerbil?"
"No,"
"A blancmange?"
"No,"
"Shoelaces?"
"No,"
"An egg?"
"No,"
"A picture of Dwight Eisenhower?"
"No,"
"Two sheds?"
"No,"
"A bill?, A bow?"
"Yes?"
"Yess!?" Gollum leapt up. "Which is it, a bill or a bow?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I thought you were addressing me. That's my name, Bilbo."
"Chapstick?"
"No,"
"A pencil?"
"No,"
"Lint?"
"No,"
"After dinner mints?"
"No,"
"Vice-grips?"
"No,"
Gollum threw his slimy hands in the air. "Ach, sssssss. I gives up, I gives upsses. You win. What has it gots in its pocketses?"
"Oh, just the ring I found on the ground over there. It seems to turn one invisible." Bilbo said.
"AAAAIIIII! My Birthday Present! My Precious! Give it to me! I'll wring its neck. I'll eats it!."
Bilbo slid the ring on his finger as the foul creature reached for him and slipped away.
__________________
SOMEBODY GET THIS DUCK AWAY FROM ME!
quote:
Originally posted by Katisha
The Lord of the Rings
or The Land of Middle-earth
by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan...etc, etc
quote:
Originally posted by NardoPolo
I also seem to remember Sinfest doing a spin called lord of the Bling Bling, but can't find it.
quote:
Originally posted by Frankd6
The Hobbit
By Michael Palin, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, Eric Idle and Graham Chapman
I'm surprised no one's mentioned the famous stateroom scene from:
"A Night at the Mordor"
Starring Froucho, Sammo, Tooko and Bucko
Froucho: I say Nob...
Nob: Yes, sir.
Froucho: What have we got for dinner?
Nob: Anything you like, sir. You might have some hobbit wine, dwarf wine, elf wine,
orc wine...
Froucho: Hey - stop whining before I send you to your room. All right, let me have one of each.
And, uh, two fried eggs, two poached eggs, two scrambled eggs, and two medium-boiled eggs.
Sammo (requested through the door): And two hard-boiled eggs.
Froucho: And two hard-boiled eggs.
Tooko: (signaling another egg order with his horn of Rhohan): HONK!
Froucho: Make that three hard-boiled eggs...and, uh, some roast boar: rare, medium, well-done,
and overdone.
Sammo (repeating his order): And two hard-boiled eggs.
Froucho: And two hard-boiled eggs.
Tooko: HONK (signaling an amended order)!
Froucho: Make that three hard-boiled eggs....and, uh, eight pieces of Lembas pastry.
Sammo (repeating his order): And two hard-boiled eggs.
Froucho: And two hard-boiled eggs.
Tooko: HONK!
Froucho: Make that three hard-boiled eggs.
Tomasso: HONK! (a shorter honk)
Froucho: And one duck egg. Uh, have you got any stewed rabbits?
Nob: Yes, sir.
Froucho: Well, give 'em some black coffee, that'll sober 'em up!
Sammo (requesting his order a fourth time): And two hard-boiled eggs.
Froucho: And two hard-boiled eggs.
After over a dozen more honks from Tooko a dozen more hard-boiled egg orders are made. Froucho
ends the order by asking the servant a question…
Froucho: Is any tipping allowed at the Inn.
Nob: (eagerly) Yes it is.
Froucho: Do you have has two silver-pieces for a gold piece?
Nob: Yes sir!
Froucho: Well, then, you won't need the two groats I was gonna give you.
back inside the stateroom, Froucho angrily reprimands the simple-minded Sammo for promising to be quiet:
Froucho: If that servant is deaf and dumb, he'll never know you're in here.
Sammo: Oh, sure, that's all right.
A persistent procession of people from the Inn's staff parade
into Froucho's tiny shoebox room no bigger than a closet.
Already crowded with four individuals (Sammo, Tooko and
Bucko, and Froucho himself), he takes a perverse pleasure in
encouraging each new intruder to enter:
Strider: I'm a ranger.
Froucho: Are you alone?
Strider: Yes.
Froucho: So you're the Lone Ranger! How's Tonto?
(Individuals # 6-7) Two chambermaids to make up the room
(they later prop up Tooko).
Froucho encourages them to enter: "Come on in, girls, and leave all hope behind."
(individual # 8) an obviously pregnant hobbit-lass: "Hi, my name's Merry."
Froucho: Sorry, there's no room at the Inn. (slams door)
(Individual # 9) Another servant to light the fireplace. He bends down to light the fire and as he does so his pants creep lower.
Froucho: Hey! I think I see the crack of doom.
(Individual # 10) A manicurist to trim Froucho's nails.
Froucho: I hadn't planned on a manicure, but I think on a quest like this, you ought to have every convenience you can get...You'd better make 'em short. It's getting kind of crowded in here.
(Individual # 11) The fireplace-lighter's large assistant.
(Individual # 12) Smeagol: Can I look for my ring in here?
Froucho: Well, come in and look in the washroom, I saw a ring in the bathtub.
(Individual # 13) Lord of the Nazgul: I'm looking to break ssssome nasssty hobbitsssss.
Froucho: Well quit smoking and don't bite your nails.
(Individuals # 14-22) yet more Nazguls: Isss our leader here?
Froucho: Well c'mon in and look, if he isn't I'm sure you can find someone just as good.
A large number of staff servants bearing trays loaded with egg orders and dinner.
Each of the 29 occupants that are entangled together must find space in a nook or cranny of the miniscule stateroom. The grande dame, Mrs. Galadriel shows up in her finest costume and opens the door, letting loose the above-mentioned people in an avalanching torrent of bodies into the corridor.
Well, many thanks and glad you enjoyed it. How about a little more of the same:
from The Return of the Rotating Chairperson of the People's Anacho-Syndicalist Commune
By Michael Palin, John Cleese, Graham Chapman, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones and Eric Idle
Gandalf enters stage left
Gandalf: You sent for me Lord Denethor?
Denethor: Tis with a heavy heart I must ask your assistance to construct a bier upon which we may place my son Faramir to be cremated, as is the tradition of Gondor.
Gandalf looks down at the inert form of Faramir sprawled across a bed.
G: But he's not dead.
D: Yes he is.
G: No he isn't.
D: Yes, he IS.
G: No he isn't.
D: Is.
G: Isn't.
D: IS
G: ISN'T
D: IS!
G: He's not dead, he's pining.
D: Pining?
G: Pining for Ithilien.
D: Pining for Ithilien??? PINING FOR ITHILIEN?! He's passed away. He's gone to meet his maker! He's in the Halls of Mandos!
G: No, no, no...
Gandalf reaches over and pokes Faramir's limp form
G: Look, there, he moved!
D: You did that.
G: No, no, never. He's just stunned.
D: Stunned?
G: Stewards of Gondor stun easily, you know.
D: He isn't stunned, he's passed on. He's no more. He's ceased to be. If it weren't for the Nazgul out front he'd be pushing up the daisies. He's gone to the Grey Havens. He's with Iluvatar now. He's left this vale of tears and joined the bleedin' choir invisible. This is an Ex-Faramir!
Gandalf shuffles his feet and averts his eyes.
G: Do you... D'you want to fondle my Palantir?
D: I thought you'd never ask.
^ "I think you just became my new personal hero!"
THE LORD OF THE RINGS
By David Mamet
(The setting: a small office somewhere in Barad-Dur. Eight NAZGUL are seated at desks, frantically making phone calls in the twilight. An ORC FLUNKY sits at the front of the table, shuffling papers. One of the Nazgul, the WITCH KING, gets up and approaches the flunky.)
Witch King: These leads are weak. "Shire?" "Baggins?" What's that supposed to mean? What about the good leads, the Lothlorien leads?
Orc Flunky: I don’t make the rules. I’m paid to run the office. You don’t like the rules, Shel, there’s the door. Now sit down, the conference is about to start.
(A large imposing figure, SAURON, enters the room. He is wearing an expensive Armani shroud.)
Sauron: Is everybody here?
Orc Flunky: All but one.
Sauron: Well I'm going anyway. (To the Nazgul) Let's talk about something important. The good news is: you're fired. The bad news is: all of you've got just one week to regain your jobs starting with tonight. Oh, have I got your attention now? Good. 'Cause we're adding a little something to this month's contest. As you all know, first prize is a brand-new fell beast with all the options. Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired.
Do you get the picture? You laughing now? You've got leads. You can't close the leads you're given, you can't close s***, you are s***, hit the bricks pal and beat it 'cause you are going out! Nice guy? I dont give a sh**. Good king? F*** you. Go home and play with your subjects. You wanna work here? Get those hobbits!
Witch King: But I need some good leads. Just a couple of leads, ya see what I'm saying? A little boost to turn the streak around. Am I right?
Little Orphan Baggins.. Harold Gray. (The Musical ~ Charles Strouse, Martin Charnin)
The sun'll come out, in Mordor,
Bet your bottom dollar that in Mordor
There'll be sun
Come what may
I've finally got to Mordor
Though I said of Mordor
I did not
Know the Way
To Mordor!
To Mordor!
The One Ring in Mordor
In Mt Doom we'll cast-a-way!!
Gollum's with us, In Mordor
Took us through the marsh deep into to Mordor
He likes not
The light of Day
Slinking about In Mordor
Caught by Shelob somewhere here in Mordor
She knew Gollum
What the hey??
When I'm stuck on a hill
That's Grey and Lonely
Sam sticks out his chin
To grin and sayyyy
To Mordor!
To Mordor!
The One Ring in Mordor
In Mt Doom we'll cast-a-way!!
To Mordor
To Mordor...
It's such a tall order
Maybe the ring... should... stay......
***
It's a hard Knock life for us
Through Snow and Ice for us
No rest No easy Sleep
Spies of Saruman do peep
It's a hard slog in Mor-i-a
No more euphoria
We've lost Gandalf the Grey
Though the Balrog He did Slay
It's a hard knock life...
It's a hard knock Life for Us
Why couldn't we take a bus?
For we have had to Fight
Uruk-Hai day and night
And we just can't displace
Nine Nazghul of no face
After young Frodo's Ring
(Lucky him, for he's got Sting)
It's a hard knock life...
***
Gol-lum, why are you following Me..
Gol-lum, just for this shiny gold ring?
Gol-lum - you and your slinking walks
Gol-lum - and all your crazy talks
Gol-lum - why are you following Me?
(and yet another Monty Python tribute...)
As sung by a bunch of men, all called "Baggins".
The Fellowshipper's Song
Ohhhhhhhhhh - Sauron made a ring and played
At being most unstable
Pippin, Merry, (Buckleberry ferry!)
Could drink you under th' table
Frodo and Sam had to scram
To Mordor, fast as able
And Gollum spied with his eyes so wide
They caught all things but Cable.
There was nothing anywhere that was missed by Mithrandir...
Except for a Balrog and a whiplash far too near..
Aragorn had not yet sworn
to be the king of Gondor
Boromir I heard (I swear)
Blowing his horn yonder
Legolas and his elvish ***
Could run so very nimbly
But none could halm or ruffle his calm
Half as much as Gimli
But Mithrandir himself is particularly missed
The Balrog's kinda friendly, but a bugger when he's pissed!
Ok. I thought my "Simpsons do LoTR" thread was cool, I admit, but this one here...words fail me. I am just going to call it right here and now, this is the coolest thread ever. I challenge anyone to find me a cooler one.
I also challenge anyone to do version of LoTR as done by:
Robert Heinlein
Joss Whedon (Buffy, Angel)
Mike Judge (King of the Hill, Beavis and Butt-head)
Weird Al Yankovic
Sam Waterston (Calvin and Hobbes)
Douglas Adams (or did someone do that already?)
Or in the style of:
Animaniacs/Pinky and the Brain
Family Guy
South Park (yes I know they already did it, but we can do better, dammit!)
The Onion
The Far Side...actually, no, that's just too difficult. No one could pull that off...
The Onion:
Area man loses magical ring of power, thinks it may be behind the couch.
Local area man Sauron (last name withheld for privacy reasons) has been looking everywhere in his spacious 3 bedroom volcano for a ring he forged over 6000 years ago. He claims that the ring, although of little intrinsic value, has great sentimental value to him since he poured most of power into it.
"I mean, I guess it could be used to turn people invisible and bend knigs to your will and stuff like that, but basically, its just a nice gold ring which I happen to like wearing"
Having last seen the ring when he went outside to check on some damn punk kids who were making a whole lot of noise outside of his estate in Mordor, he's not quite sure what happened to the ring after that.
"I was just going outside to shut those damn elves up, yaknow. There always barging in here every thousand years or so demanding I stop razing their lands and enslaving their people, gets to be kinda a nuisance yaknow."
Sauron reports that he is not quite sure what happens next but, all of a sudden, he becomes a discorporated spirit, capable of doing no more evil than a overly dry turkey club sandwich.
"Anyway, I dunno what happened but I guess I just dropped the ring somewhere. Gee, I hope nobody picked it up cos, that would be theft plain and simple and even elves are above that. Although, come ta think of it, those damn whippersnapper 'umans mighta done it. There not above anything, them spoiled brats."
Hoping that nobody picked up the ring over the ensuing 3000 year interval, Sauron is sure that the ring is just wedged behind the refrigerator or maybe even under the bed. He has high hopes on finding the ring and looks forward to wearing it again.
"Yaknow, about the only place I haven't checked yet is the forging room, I was going to do it two days ago but there was some ruckus with a spider in the west quadrant. At this rate, I probably wont get a chance to have a good look in there until next week."
FEAR & LOATHING IN MOUNT DOOM
by
Terry Gilliam & Toy Grisoni
BLACK SCREEN
The wind of the plains moans sadly. From somewhere within the wind comes the tinkly, syrupy-sweet sounds of the Hobbits singing "My Favorite Things." A series of sepia images of
anti-Sauron protests from 3,000 years ago appear one after
another on the screen.
In the violently scrawled style of Ralph Steadman, the title
FEAR AND LOATHING IN GONDOR splashes onto the screen. A
beat, and then it runs down and off revealing:
TITLE: "He who makes a beast of himself
Gets rid of the pain
Of being a man."
Dr. Johnson
The voice of GANDALF 'THE GRAY' -- a.k.a. 'THE WHITE':
GANDALF (V/O)
We were somewhere around the Shire at
the edge of the farmlands when the
drugs began to take hold.
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
An old four-wheeled wooden wagon -- THE CRATE -- wipes the black screen.
EXT. ON THE ROAD TO MT. DOOM - DAY
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
THE CRATE plods down the beaten dirt path at about 13 miles an hour. THE STONES' "Sympathy For the Devil" blares.
AT THE WHEEL
STRANGELY STILL AND TENSE, GANDALF 'THE WHITE' DRIVES -- SKELETAL, ALE IN HAND -- STARES STRAIGHT AHEAD.
BESIDE HIM, FACE TURNED TO THE SUN, EYES CLOSED BENEATH THE HOOD OF HIS ELVEN CLOAK, IS HIS SWARTHY AND UNNERVINGLY UNPREDICTABLE HOBBIT FRIEND, DR. BILBO.
The music pounds GANDALF stares straight ahead. BILBO froths
up a can of beer - uses it as shaving foam.
GANDALF (V/O)
I remember saying something like:
"I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe
you should drive..."
BILBO starts shaving.
GANDALF (V/O)
Suddenly there was a terrible roar
all around us and the sky was full
of what looked like huge bats, all
swooping and screeching and diving
around the car...
Close on GANDALF -- shadows flutter across his face. The
reflections of dragons swirl within his eyes. We push in close
to one eye ball -- SCREECHING SWIRLING BAT-LIKE DRAGON SHAPES!
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
GANDALF (V/O)
... and a voice was screaming: Holy
Jesus! What are these goddamn
animals?
CUT TO WIDE SHOT OF CRATE -
GANDALF, eyes rigid, flails at the air. No bats anywhere.
BILBO casually looks over...
BILBO
What are you yelling about?
GANDALF pulls to the side of the road. The sudden wrench
makes BILBO nick his face with his razor.
GANDALF
Never mind. It's your turn to drive.
GANDALF (V/O)
No point mentioning these bats. I
thought. The poor bastard will see
them soon enough.
GANDALF hops out of the car, keeping an eye out for dragons,
frantically opens the trunk to reveal what looks like AN
APOTHECARY KIT. GANDALF desperately rifles through the impressive stash.
GANDALF (V/O)
We had two bags of grass, seventy-
five eyes of next, five
sheets of high powered faerie
acid, a salt shaker half full of
snuff, a whole galaxy of fireworks: multi-
colored uppers, downers, screamers,
laughers... Also a quart of dwarven spirits,
a quart of rum, a case of ale, a
pint of raw ether and two dozen
shrooms.
GANDALF, eyes darting madly as he hears what sounds like the
SHRIEKS OF BATS returning, grabs an assortment along with
another pipe full of weed - slams the apothecary kit shut and dives back into the wagon.
GANDALF (V/O)
Not that we needed all that for the
trip, but once you get locked into
a serious drug collection, the
tendency is to push it as far as
you can.
THE CRATE SLOWLY PLODS INTO THE DISTANCE... on the ground,
weakly flapping is a SEMI-SQUASHED, SLOWLY DYING ANIMAL... A
BAT?
EXT. FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO MT. DOOM - DAY
IN THE CRATE
BILBO grips the reins - stares maniacally down the road - a
lousy driver.
GANDALF (V/O)
The only thing that really worried
me was the ether. There is nothing
in the world more helpless and
irresponsible and depraved than a
mage in the depths of an ether binge.
And I knew we'd get into that
rotten stuff pretty soon.
BILBO sings - washes a couple of pills back with a new ale.
The CRATE fishtails.
BILBO
"One toke over the line, sweet
Jesus."
GANDALF
(muttering to himself)
One toke. You poor fool. Wait
till you see those goddamn bats.
UP AHEAD - AT THE SIDE OF THE DESERTED ROAD
A LONE HITCHHIKER spots them, jumps up and sticks out a
thumb. The CRATE rocks past. Then, fifty yards down
the road...
BILBO
Let's give that boy a lift.
BILBO yanks on the reins - THE CRATE swerves to the side
of the road.
GANDALF
We can't stop here - this is bat
country!
"Bugs, Mr Frodo! A million of 'em!" shouted Gamgee as the giant spiders crested the hill....
I'll see if I can write Frodo's Freehold or its ilk (The Ring is a Harsh Mistress, Baggins of Mars, I Will Fear No Nazgul, A Hobbit in the Sky?) a little later. Wouldn't it be great if Gandalf tuened out to be a sexy female computer who wants to be impregnated by Legolas?
Hehe...or The Number of the Balrog, Heighdei, or I Shall Fear No Nazgul?
Oops...that's what I get for not rechecking the replied-to post before I hit submit. Didn't mean to step on your Fear No Nazgul.
quote:
Originally posted by as_u_wish
Ring Quest by Anne McCaffrey
Prologue
Anor, in the Tolkinian Sector, was a golden G-type star. Endor, its third planet, was enveloped by an atmosphere that sentient beings could breathe, boasted water they could drink, and possessed a gravity that permitted many life forms to walk confidently erect. It had five major peoples (elves, dwarves, hobbits, men, ents) along with numerous stray groups it had attracted and held in recent millennia (wizards, orcs, goblins, trolls).
About every 200 cycles around Anor, Endor came into contact with a pernicious Maiar, known by various names—Sauron, Gorthaur the Cruel, the Necromancer, the Eye, the Nameless One, Ringmaker, Black Hand. His evil penetrated Endor spreading insidious threads that grew, multiplied and destroyed all life. The sentient peoples bonded together to fight this recurring menace. But not all believed the red eye would return yet again.
3018, the eleventh month of the twentieth cycle
The first rays of the sun glanced over the weyr’s star stone. The blue watch dragon let out an uneasy keen. Eowyn, Weyrwoman of Edoras, paced the cool flag stones of her weyr, her bare feet pushing aside a few stray grains of sand. She had awoken early after an uneasy night, unable to banish thoughts of the vivid the red eye growing larger in the east.
By the Shards of Narsil, how dared those hidebound oldtimers at Rivendell hold a so-called Council of Elrond and fail to inform her! She’d expect no less of Boromir. But the others!! They must, all of them, even the usually reliable G’mli and L’golas, be dazzled by that upstart Weyrwoman Arwen and her proddy dragon Eevenstarth.
She'd learned last night that F’rodo, son of D’rogo, rider of rogue dragon Samth, had apparently impressed a golden fire lizard, giving it the outlandish name Ringth. Master Harper Gandalf was of course only telling her half the story in true harper style. He’d admitted that the firelizard egg had come from a pirated clutch from the queen Precious, stolen by the renegade outcast Gollum and later appropriated by F’rodo’s uncle. This much was certain, but he would tell no more.
Fortunately his youthful apprentices, Meriadoc and Peregrin, were less closed mouthed. A few cups of Edoran wine and she'd gleaned from them the fact that there was some dispute about ownership of Ringth. As if a firelizard could look to more than one being at a time. Well, she'd have something to say about this! There would be time later to deal with the intractable Lord Holder Aragon. Why did that man distract her so.
Lord Sauron's Ring by Oscar Wilde
Scene: Bag End
Frodo: I cannot read the fiery letters
Gandalf: A gentleman should never admit to ignorance, Frodo old boy, it always sounds so trite. The language is that of Mordor but the script is elvish, obviously its just as I expected, you've found Lord Sauron's old trinket. Fiery letters are all the fashion these days, and Lord Sauron always tries SO hard to be fashionable. He fails, I mean, Elvish script? Honestly. Ah, its one of his poems. Sauron always was a dreadful poet, though I will forgive him that. The only thing I cannot forgive in a poet is competence.
Frodo: Why did it have to come to me?
Gandalf: One should never bemoan recieving gifts, though in th ecase of that gaudy trinket I won't begrudge you your distaste.
Frodo: Take it Gandalf!
Gandalf: Oh thats hardly fair. Frodo old boy. I can resist anything except temptation. No, the only thing to do is to dispose of the thing. I always use Mt. Doom for such purposes. Obviously a quest awaits you. I myself shall be late, the one thing I love more than a bit of fashionable danger is a bit of fashionable lateness.
... and when Sir Bilbo, soon afterwards, just opening the door, said, "Fanny, at what time would you have the eagle come round?", she felt a degree of astonishment which made it impossible for her to speak."
"My dear Sir Bilbo!" cried Mrs Sackville-Baggins, red with anger. "Fanny can walk."
"Walk!" repeated Sir Bilbo, in a tone of most unanswerable dignity, and coming farther into the room, "My niece walk to the Cracks of Doom at this time of the year! Will twenty minutes after four suit you?"
- Jane Austen, Hobbitsfield Park
As requested, By William Faulkner:
Then I was in twilight again, wearing the ring. It was Uncle Bilbo's and when he gave it to me he said Frodo I give you the ultimatum of all hopeless desire. It is rather excrutiatingly apt that you will use it to gain the reducto absurdum of all hobbit experience which can fit your individual finger because it seems to kind of shrink and grow as needed. I give it to you not that you may appear to be married when you are not and so escape all those ceaseless nosey questions about your private life but that you might escape the Sackville-Bagginses now and then and not spend all your life dodging behind hedgerows because no relatives are ever lost he said they're not even past and the twilight world only reveals to hobbits their own hunger and despair except not quite in focus like the light in August or any other long slow desultory month you could name full of dust and motes and rememberance that Ents smell like trees...
An excerpt from "Breakfast of Lords" by Frodo Vonnegut:
---
All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyways, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really did turn out to be a king. Another guy I knew really did threaten to take the ring from me. "I want," the guy said to me, "that ring."
An awful lot of people were awfully keen on that ring. Here is what the ring everyone was so keen on looked like:
O
And it was created by a dark lord who had some big things planned for Middle Earth. But all that comes later. First of all, the guy who tried to take the ring never got it because a bunch of orcs came ripping through town and stuck him full of arrows like a big treacherous pincushion.
So it goes.
So I guess you could say a hell of a lot of blood was spilt over this ring in the end. Men were killing orcs and orcs were killing men and men were killing men and there were these two girls that wanted to fuck the same guy, and trees were flooding wizards out of their big phallic towers.
And so on.
After a lot of scrambling around someone bit that ring off my finger. So you can imagine the difficulty I have jerking off now.
---
nietzsche!
Why I Forge Such Good Rings
an excerpt from Ecce Frodo
1
Shall I explain the meaning of the One Ring? -- In the case of elven rings they are too preserved with ascetism, the decadance and ressentiment one would associate with a herd morality. The elf, seeing himself as "too good" for this world, finds a pretext to escape it -- his elbereth gilthoniel. In the case of dwarven rings, the greed for gold is intensified -- but what greed that is called, so scornfully, "love of Eru!" What dwarf knows of love? -- "Nothing bought more dearly than love," instinctively the dwarf turns his hatred of the world into an ill-begotten obsession with its creator -- and his own pockets!
For it should be noted: the one ring is a celebration of life, a "velvet condom"(1) around the finger of the philosopher! To become invisible to the world -- that is precisely how one should see the world. Quidquid luce fuit, tenebris agit. The One ring, so simple, so unadorned! -- free of the decadance seen in the rings of Wagner,(3) -- it is the simplicity, the force of the Mordorian spirit that leads it to triumph over the life-debasing instincts of Numenorean thought, which holds to itself during its decline and fall.
To be Numenorean, to think in a Numenorean way, requires a complexity of thought, but a belief that complexity is wrong; a belief in preservation, in valuation of "thing in itself," which poisons our Mordorian culture. To tell the truth and be good with arrows(3) -- this is the folly of Numenorean thinking, for what truth is contained in words? Truth is in arrows.
(1) A notoriously untranslatable pun, der velvetkondom means "one who protects himself, but in a manner that exposes himself to dangers."
(2) cf. Nietzsche Contra Wagner.
(3) cf. Also Spracht Ar-Pharazon.
Lord of the Rings by Ellis Amburn
LORD OF THE RINGS by Ellis Amburn/Kitty Kelley/Any other trashy biographer
Frodo Baggins was every mother's dream hobbit. A small quiet lad with large eyes and curly black hair, and a sweetness to his demeanor that made adults and children alike trust him. In the early years of his life, Frodo seemed like the perfect hobbit -- he had looks, wealth, social standing and a wide range of eccentric feriends from Dwarves, Elves and Men.
Frodo was born to two middle-class hobbits in the idyllic Shire. Drogo Baggins was one of the respectable Baggins family, while his mother was the social butterfly Primula Brandybuck. Primula often left young Frodo alone while she went on wild romps with the Elves in the forests of the Shire. This lack of responsibility angered Drogo, prompting many angry fights between the two while young Frodo cried in his room.
How this marital struggle affected young Frodo is not entirely known, but it seems to have jaded him beyond his years when it came to women. In the years that followed he would pursue many loveless, lust-inspired liaisons with hobbits, human women, and Elf maidens. His abandonment by his flighty mother seems to have left him in constant pursuit of female affection. A further shock was the death of his parents in a boating accident, where Primula angrily pushed her husband over the side and he grabbed her as he went down.
"I kept asking him how he felt about his parents," said Frodo's cousin Peregrin Took, a close friend to the young heir. "But he'd be just saying, 'Oh yeah, my parents, sure.' He didn't seem to care. Of course, he'd been adopted by Bilbo then, so maybe he didn't care anymore. He didn't talk about it, that's for sure!"
Bilbo Baggins was a wealthy, eccentric relative of Frodo's, who took pity on the orphaned boy. Without any children of his own and no intention to marry, Bilbo doted on his adolescent nephew and spoiled him relentlessly. "Frodo could be a real bastard, that's all I have to say," Bilbo's gardener commented. "My Sam would follow him anywhere, but Frodo was a real manipulative little bastard. He'd look at you all sad and sorry with those eyes, and you'd do anything he wanted."
Understandably, Frodo was dismayed when Bilbo vanished on his eleventy-first birthday. But upon finding that Bilbo had left all his possessions to his nephew, Frodo settled happily into his new role as the Shire's most eligible bachelor. He often used his uncle's golden Ring, which made its wearer invisible, to sneak up on young hobbit girls and kiss them before whisking them back to his bachelor lovenest, Bag End. "They thought it was great to be sleeping with a guy who could become invisible," said Frodo's cousin Meriadoc Brandybuck. "It added an edge of danger. I always asked if I could borrow it for my dates, but he got very possessive of it. Later on I found out why, and it wasn't just his ego!"
However, when Gandalf the Grey appeared and informed Frodo that his Ring was the Ring of Power, Frodo was shocked. He followed Gandalf's instructions to take the Ring to Bree, where he met the Ranger Aragorn and followed Aragorn to Rivendell. However, Frodo was attacked by the Nazgul along the way, and though the injury was not fatal, it threatened to turn Frodo into a wraith. "He looked awful," Merry said. "He was turning green, throwing up and making these weird gagging noises. It made ME sick just looking at him."
Frodo was rescued by the Elf princess Arwen, who rode all the way to Rivendell with Frodo on her horse Asfaloth, avoiding Black Riders. And though the One Ring did not tempt Arwen, certain other things did. "He was just SO little and sexy," she was later heard to gush to her close friend Galadriel. "He turned me on SO much when we were escaping from the Black Riders. After my dad healed him, I remember I looked at him in that giant bed, and I thought, oh boy, I could dump Aragorn for HIM!" Arwen had recently become engaged to the Ranger, but Frodo had the inexplicable draw of the Ringbearer.
"I'm not saying they had an affair," Elven Prince Legolas said in an exclusive interview. "I mean, I once went out with Arwen -- she was kinda chilly, if you know what I mean. But right after I got to Rivendell I saw Frodo coming out of her bower, with his hair standing on end and... well, let me put it this way: He was wearing the Ring, and not much else. And he showed up at dinner that night with a T-shirt that said 'Elves Do It Eternally.'"
...
That's all I feel like writing for now...
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Bay of Belfalas. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
North the wind blew across the land of Gondor, where men farmed their fields, and thought of better times and of the glory of the old days. They knew little of the lands beyond their borders, but trusted in their traditions, as they always had.
Onward the wind blew across the White Mountains into the lands of the Rohirrim, proud horse people of the plains whose allies in these dark times were wearing thin. Grim faced and stiff backed they rode on despite the threat of war and a weakling king upon their throne, the leader of this particular band being outcast and abandoned. But still he had followers, his numbers increasing daily.
Westward the wind drove, towards the gap of Isen, where evil men dwelled, rough barbarians called Dunlendings who had no love for their neighbours. Neither pillaging nor burning quenched their thirst for blood.
Westward, now whirling north, west and north over the vast plains of Eriador into the tangled forest called the Old Forest and the Shire.
Whirling towards the village Hobbiton, it tugged at the clothes of a small creature. No taller than a child, Frodo Baggins sat reading an old book as the wind closed it. By now it had become a pleasant wind, tickling his toes and playing in his hair. The young hobbit laughed aloud and wished the day would never end. As he put the book down, he heard something off in the distance, not unlike the song his uncle used to sing when he thought Frodo was not nearbly, but with an unearthly feel to it...
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Bay of Belfalas. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
North the wind blew across the land of Gondor, where men farmed their fields, and thought of better times and of the glory of the old days. They knew little of the lands beyond their borders, but trusted in their traditions, as they always had.
Onward the wind blew across the White Mountains into the lands of the Rohirrim, proud horse people of the plains whose allies in these dark times were wearing thin. Grim faced and stiff backed they rode on despite the threat of war and a weakling king upon their throne, the leader of this particular band being outcast and abandoned. But still he had followers, his numbers increasing daily.
Westward the wind drove, towards the gap of Isen, where evil men dwelled, rough barbarians called Dunlendings who had no love for their neighbours. Neither pillaging nor burning quenched their thirst for blood.
Westward, now whirling north, west and north over the vast plains of Eriador into the tangled forest called the Old Forest and the Shire.
Whirling towards the village Hobbiton, it tugged at the clothes of a small creature. No taller than a child, Frodo Baggins sat reading an old book as the wind closed it. By now it had become a pleasant wind, tickling his toes and playing in his hair. The young hobbit laughed aloud and wished the day would never end. As he put the book down, he heard something off in the distance, not unlike the song his uncle used to sing when he thought Frodo was not nearbly, but with an unearthly feel to it...
The Lord of the rings, Book one of the Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan
Lord of the Rings - Gandalf v. Balrog code
import gandalf;
import balrog;
import bridge_of_khazad-dum;
public class GandalfvsBalrog extends Moria
{
Wizard Gandalf; //declare variables
Balrog misterSparkles;
main()
{
Gandalf.print("You Shall NOT PASS!!!);
misterSparkles.print("RARARARRRRARR!!!!);
Gandalf.HitGroundWithStaff_MakeBridgeFall;
if(misterSparkles.isFallingWayDown)
{
misterSparkles.whipGandalf_bringHisAssDownToo;
}
while(Gandalf.isFallingWayDown)
{
Gandalf.GrabSword_KickAssandYellAlot;
}
return One_Smoted_Balrog;
}
}
The Lord of the Rings, by E.Blackadder
Two short excerpts from the Lord of the Rings, by Edmund Blackadder
"Come my friend" said Boromir softly "lend me the ring that I might vanquish our enemies".Frodo slowly raised an eyebrow and gazed disdainfully at the tall Gondorian. "Boromir" he quipped "the chances of you getting your hands on this ring are about as high as the ankle socks on a very small beetle that's crouching in a ditch... in a quarry... in the Low countries"
'What a fix!' said Sam. 'That's the one place in all the lands that we've heard of that we don't want to see any closer, and that's the one place we're trying to get to! And that's just where we can't get nohow. We've come the wrong way altogether, seemingly. We can't get down; and if we did get down we'd find all that green land a nasty bog, I'll warrant. Phew! can you smell it?' He sniffed at the wind.
"Of course I can smell it, Sam.' replied Frodo drily 'Though how you, the six-time winner of the All-County "Armpits like a hill troll's privy" Championship can smell anything is beyond me...in fact, being up to my codpiece in festering marshland sounds like a picnic compared to five minute downwind of you"
Warg Hunter with Samwise Gamgee
SAM: Blimey, would you look at that, Mister Frodo! It's a rare Easterling Oliphant! It's not often you see one of these, even in captivity. You see how the Easterlings have built a large tower on her back, harnessing its great strength and massive size for their own bennefit. Unfortunately there are few Oliphants left in the world, with most born being forced into wartime service and the lose of their lands due to deforrestation. Crickey, one's coming right by us!
Large Oliphant foot crashes beside Sam and Frodo. Sam jumps and hugs onto the beast's shin. He is then carried off with the Oliphant in another charge.
SAM: Isn't this great! The Oliphant is so powerful it doesn't even recognize me as a threat. So long as I don't do anything aggressive, she won't attack.
Arrows begin flying at the Easterlings.
SAM: It seems as though we're under attack. This helps to illustrate the wonderfully effective thickness of the Oliphant's skin. The arrows are just bouncing right off! If this were a natural predator she would just be able to bat them aside with her massive trunk. She's getting a bit grumpy now. Its alright, girl, its alright. Look at the way she's just trampling all of the panicking Easterlings! What a marvelous adaption! Just another illustration of what happens when man crosses nature.
At this point the oliphant uses its great trunk to grab sam and fling him 20 meters. Sam bounces a few times and then brushes himself off.
SAM: What a blast! Easterling Oliphant! Woo! After the break, Mister Frodo and I will show you the dangerous Gollum, and next week we'll journey deep into the heart of the Fangorn Forrest to track down one of my favorites, the endangered Entus giganticus, or "Tree Shepherd"!
An alternate Mickey Spillane
though I only have the opening line:
It started that night and it started with a wizard. It always starts with a wizard...
The Chronicles of Middle-earth
The Wizard, the Ring and the Dark Lord
by C.R.R. Lewis
Chapter I
Pippin Looks into a Palantern
Once there were four hobbits whose names were Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. This story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from Hobbiton during the war because of a Ring. They were sent to the house of an old Langnome who lived in the heart of the country, twenty miles from the nearest ford. He had no wife and he lived in a very large house with a housekeeper called Mr. Glorfindel and three servants. (Their names were Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir, but they do not come into the story much.) He himself was an Elf-lord with shadowy dark hair and an ageless face, and they liked him almost at once; but on the first evening when he came over to meet them at the front door he was so venerable that Pippin (who was the youngest) was a little afraid of him and Merry (who was the next youngest) wanted to cry and had to keep on pretending he was blowing his nose to hide it.
As soon as they had said good night to the Langnome and gone upstairs on the first night, Frodo and Sam came into the younger ones' room and they all talked it over.
"We've fallen on our feet and no mistake," said Frodo. "This is going to be perfectly splendid. That old chap will let us do anything we like."
"I think he's an old dear," said Sam.
"Oh, come off it!" said Merry, who was tired and pretending not to be tired, which always made him bad-tempered. "Don't go on talking like that."
"Like what?" said Sam; "and anyway, it's time you were in bed."
"Trying to talk like Bilbo," said Merry. "And who are you to say when I'm to go to bed? Go to bed yourself."
"Hadn't we all better go to bed?" said Pippin. "There's sure to be a row if we're heard talking here."
"No, there won't," said Frodo. "I tell you this is the sort of house where no one's going to mind what we do. Anyway, they won't hear us. It's about ten minutes' walk from here down to that dining room, and any amount of stairs and passages in between."
"What's that noise?" said Pippin suddenly. It was a far larger house than she had ever been in before and the thought of all those long passages and rows of doors leading into empty rooms was beginning to make her feel a little creepy.
"It's only a bird, silly," said Merry.
"It's an owl," said Frodo. "This is going to be a wonderful place for birds. I shall go to bed now. I say, let's go and explore tomorrow. You might find anything in a place like this. Did you see those mountains as we came along? And the woods? There might be eagles. There might be stags. There'll be hawks."
"Badgers!" said Pippin.
"Foxes!" said Merry.
"Conies!" said Sam.
But when next morning came there was a steady rain falling, so thick that when you looked out of the window you could see neither the mountains nor the woods nor even the stream in the garden...
I, Frodo Baggins, formerly of the Shire, am one who is known to Sauron of Mordor.
It came about late in the month of En’Kara in the year of 10,117 of the Third Age that I awoke to the soothing touch of a small sponge that bathed my forehead.
I grabbed the hand that held the sponge and found that I held a girl’s wrist. “Who are you?” I asked.
I lay on a stone platform padded by heavy sleeping pelts and numerous scarves of yellow and red silk.
“Please.” Said the girl.
She was comely with light hair straight and bound simply behind her back with a small ribbon of yellow silk. Her eyes blue and sullen. Her full, red lips, seemed to pout sensuously, rebelliously, and perhaps subtly contemptuously.
“I am Arwen,” she responded “your slave.”
I released her wrist.
She knelt resting on her heels with her back straight. In her eyes there seemed to burn an irritable fury of helpless rage. I smiled but she did not smile back, looking away angrily.
When she again raised her head I saw about her throat, as I expected, graceful and gleaming, the silver collar of a Mordor slave girl.
“Your demeanor does not suggest that of a slave girl.” I said.
“I am a chamber slave.” She whispered. “As long as you are in this room, you may do with me as you please. Master.”
Her shoulders shook with rage at my widened smile.
“I see I must teach you the meaning of your colar.” I said, rising and stepping torwards her. She scrambled to the corner of the room with a cry.
My laugh was loud.
RINGBEARER OF MORDOR by John Norman
Not perfect, but here's another one:
He's Guiding a Hobbit to Mordor - by Led Zeppelin
There's a ranger who knows
All that glitters's not gold
And he's guiding a hobbit
To Mordor
When he gets there he knows
If the Black Gate is closed
With a sword he do what he came for.
Ooh, ooh, and he's guiding a hobbit
To Mordor.
There's a sign on Khazad-dum
But he wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes runes have two meanings.
In a tree by the falls, there's an elf lass who sings;
Sometimes all of her hopes are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes him wander.
Ooh, it makes him wander.
There's a feeling she gets
When she looks to the west
And her spirit is crying for leaving.
In her thoughts she has seen
Rings of smoke through the trees
And the ranger is fighting the goblins.
Ooh, it makes him wander.
Ooh, it really makes him wander.
And it's whispered that soon
The Rohan riders will swoon
For the worm tongue will lead them to treason.
And the new day won't dawn
For those who fight long,
But the forests will echo with entmoot.
If there's a traitor in the fellowship
Don't be alarmed now,
It's just a vision by the elf queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But after Moria
You must determine which road you're on.
And it makes you wander.
Your head is humming and it won't go
It case you don't know.
The ring is calling you to take it.
Dear ranger can you hear the wind blow
And did you know
Your stairway lies through the paths of dead?
And as you wind on the down road
The Shadow taller than your soul
There walks a hobbit we all know
Who shines white light where cobwebs grow
And always bears that band of gold.
And if you listen very hard
The reign will come to you at last
Wherefore Arwen and Elessar
Will tie the knot and be made whole.
And he's guiding a hobbit to Mordor
No playing "Stairway to Cirith Ungol"!
Why's everybody looking at me?
Since I'm in Stupid Movie Mode anyway:
Frodos - The Ring of Fate
<Endless scene of the Fellowship walking past scenery...this goes on for 15 minutes>
<The Fellowship finally comes to a lone flet in the wilderness and knocks on the door to ask directions>
Celeborgo, a creepy elf: I am Celeborgo. I watch the place while the Mistress is away.
Aragorn: Hello, uh...Celeborgo. We were wondering if you could direct us to...
Celeborgo: Mordor? It's too far. You'll never make it tonight.
Aragorn: Do you mind if we stay here for the night, then?
Celeborgo: The Mistress will not like it...
This actually deserves the full MST3K treatment as a parody, but I'm not up to that...
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of Eriador lies a small unregarded countryside.
In this land is an utterly insignificant little green town whose men-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think smoking is a pretty neat idea.
This town has--or rather had--a problem, which was this: most of the people living in it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of lots of small birthday gifts, which is odd becuse on the whole it wasn't the gifts that were unhappy.
And so the problem remained; lots of the people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with weed-pipes.
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming from Bree in the first place. And some said that even Bree had been a bad move and that no one should ever have left the Anduin.
And then, one Mid-Year's Day, over three thousand years after one maiar had gotten his finger cut off for trying to rule the world, a wizard sitting on his own at a small inn in Bree suddenly realized what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and he finally knew how the world could be made a good and happy place. This time it was right, it would work, and (hopefully) no one would have to get any digits cut off.
Sadly, before he could arrange to get a letter sent, he made a mistake and headed South, and the idea was lost for ever.
This is not his story.
But it is the story of that mistake, and some of its consiquences.
It is also the story of a ring, a ring called 'The One Ring'--not a Shire ring, never made in the Shire, and until after the mistake occured, never seen or even heard of by any but a few Shire-folk.
Nevertheless, a wholly remarkable ring.
In fact, it was probably the most remarkable ring ever to come out of the great smoking mountain of Orodruin, of which few Shire-folk had ever heard either.
Not only is it a wholly remarkable ring, it is also a highly dangerous one--more dangerous than Vilya, more suductive than Nenya, and more destructive than Narya.
The One Ring scores over these older, more pedestrian works in two important respects.
First, it has a mind of it's own, and second, it has the words 'Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul' inscribed in large friendly elven-script on its exterior.
But the story of this Mid-Year's Day, the story of it's extraordinary consequences, and the story of how these consequences are inextricably intertwined with this remarkable ring begins very simply.
It begins with a Hobbit-hole.
LotR according to Douglas Addams
Shucks, Michael Ellis beat me to it. Ahh well.
can someone make a robert a. wilson version pleaseee !!!
Note: The following will make little sense unless you have read “The Eye of Argon,” which has been called “The Plan 9 from Outer Space” of fan fiction. And if you haven’t read it, then by all means follow the link http://www-users.cs.york.ac.uk/~susan/sf/eyeargon.htm or Google it up, as it is far funnier by accident than any parody I could write on purpose. And with that, I present:
The Eye of Aragorn
By Jim Theis
The foot steps ambled through the trackless and uninhabited barin desert parched beneath the draconian sun over shadowed by a wafted clouds. The boot-imprimatured marks of passage, pressed deep by the encumbrance of their thus-shod wearers, and smothered under the rain washed dust, radianced dully against the smatter-dusted earth. Rays of luminous incandescence pounced headlong from the phlogistic orb coursing upward in the arcade of the heavens on the obliterated foots path wending through this sector of the great desert of the Trombunist Empire.
A compassing sword of coruscated steel rammed sparks from the grim mammoth barbarous warrior’s metal ribbed shield he wielded.
“I’ll conduct you to reunion with your forebears in the Hadean haunts of hell,” whooped the second Orc.
“Not if I see you first,” gritted the man called Stridr, the Crumhornian.
Stridr had been in the lead of his party but now advanced back to come between the depredationing Orcs and where his boone companions stood pat, both of who were impressed with terror, and one of them a Hoppit.
The Orcs had interrupted a piscivorous repast they had caught in a desert lake while crossing the baron and sun toasted sand dunces. Only the chartreuse imbrications of the Hoppit’s blue sword had given claxon to the approaching nemesis.
“Taste the ebon vengeance of my Saracen steel,” the fervent Crumhornian shouted through his clenched teeth as he planted his feet and pivoted away from the Orc’s preeminent stroke. As if in one motion the enthused Crumhornian brought the two-handed claymore in a downward descent on the Orc’s frangible head, which eructed with a well spring of crimson colored life fluid disseminating out. Stridr priced his sword from the Orcs disppelling viscera, which luft wafted the fetid redolence of death to the Crumhornian’s nose trills.
“Damn you, marauder”! Husked the dying Orc as he crouched sprawlen on the sod.
The Crumhornian turned to his two accompanists. Frdo Baggns, the Hoppit, held up his small sword, and they could see by the scarlet glowing turquoise blade that other Orcs skulked them. The crimson glow of the cerulean blade had yet to be wrong.
Then Stridr beneficially lobbed an cherish glance at the lithe, zaftig young Rwn, his female accompaniment. The pale boned harlot, half dressed in parsimonious silk of dark pastel that closely grasped the promiscuous jaunt of her slender curves smiled lunch-like at him with her thin, full lips in a grin.
“Death to the foolhardy party of men and elves and Hoppits that has peradventured to invade the fast stronghold of the Trombunist Empire where Orcs supreme hold sway!” barked an Orc rising from behind a rise with drawn sword unsheathed. The pathetic screeches of the dying Orc groveling in melancholy dejection on the trackless wind blown desert granules, his vitals spilling through his uselessly clutching grasp onto the weather beaten dunes, had peeked the Orc’s interest. Never before in the lonely labyrinth of untold eons of ages had the light black eyes starting from his dewey sockets witnessed such an impious sacrilege.
“Crumhorn!” Barked Stridr, vanely wishing for a brief, fleeting fraction of a moment that his bone companion Gandlf was here to help end the odds. Stridr unleashed a yard of corpusculent steel from his hand hewn leather sheath and, swift as a striking snak, cautiously hurled himself at his litigant. Partially from curiosity and partially from an inordinate fear of dying, the Orc defended himself.
As the clean-limbed, mighty thewed Crumhornian barbarian savage and the death reeking, fear dealing, brobdingnagian Orc clashed with flying weapons aspark, Frdo Baggns, the Hoppit, crepted up behind the other-way-facing Orc. Cocking his arm backward, Frdo looked for the right opening moment and then leashed his desperate arm outward at a point midwife between the Orc’s hauberk of midevil chain mail and the wide stamped leather belt that held the sagging Orc’s homespun pantaloons at his waist and also secured a slender poniard with encrusted jewels in place.
The aim of his mark was invisible to the Hoppit’s questing orbs, yet he knew that his anticipated intent must be with reach. He brought his exploratory hand into the breech between belt and hauberk, shuddering to touch the dry, clammy, livid red skin of the Orc. Shuddering with the strength and fear of an unexorcized demon, Frdo turned downward his hand, galvanizing momentarily at the dread that he might have surmised his assumption wrong. Fordreading moments of unmitigated and unreasoning blank terror, his suspense was unasuaged as his crusading hand’s digit encounter nothing excepting the the the cold, unctuous, steamy skin.
Then the extremity of his finger tips were rewarded with the touch of a bunched up and crumbled albeit woven garment. Frdo clamped a tortured gasp from his grinding lungs in exhalation as he vised his finders around the topmost border of the woven garment within the Orc’s homespun breaches. Then setting his thews like tholes of boles, Frdo drew the fabric upward with a yank of drastic tenacity. The startled Orc ceased his sworded hostilities as his eyes opened wide at the lids and protruded egglike forward so that the pupils started in blank disbelief blindishly. As Frdo drew the Orc’s heterodoxically clean undergarment tighter around the Orc’s sacerdotal member, the pensive Orc crimped forward at the waist, expelling a burning gust of tormented breathe into his fiery lungs. The jelly like mass began to bubble like a vat of boiling tar as quavers passed up and down its entire form.
-END OF AVAILABLE COPY-
James Joyce
Stately, plump Sam Gamgee descended from the rock lookout over Mordor to eat a morsel of stewrabbit and Guinness whilst the Gollumsmeagolstinker twisted and wept and said twelve Hail Marys. "Jaysus, Mary and Saint Christopher," intoned Frodo from- the-end-of-a-bag, "and will you look at the size of my ringsteel, ringstone, steelstone but it's dragging my conscience down into the seventh circle like old Dante and the bejaysus sinners, shitting and pissing into old Sam's pots and pans. And, yes, I remember Gandalf and I said would he take the bloody thing away, and he said he'd be dammed to Hell before he could, yes and him drinking a cup of tea, yes, and he asked would I, my dear hobbit, would I, yes, in my own little bog-hole in the ground, would I for the love of God, yes, take the fecking thing, all the way, away from the Shire, away from the Guinness, yes, and me looking up at into his eyes, all the way to Mordor, yes, to throw it in the fire, and I said yes, I said yes, I will yes.
JiHymas, your P.G. Wodehouse was hilarious! I couldn't stop laughing!
Also the Cremation of Sam Gamgee was great too... mind if I copy that? It was brilliant...
In comparison, this is pretty lame, but I don't think any one has done Stevenson:
R.L. Stevenson's version of LOTR...
Opening paragraph
Gandalf the Grey, Aragorn son of Arathorn, and the rest of these gentleman having asked me to write down the whole particualrs of the journey of the Fellowship, from beginning to end, keeping nothing back, but the bearings of the Havens, as that is still left unknown, I go back to the time when my old uncle Bilbo, still lived at Bag End, and the grey old wiazrd named Gandalf, first took up with us Baggins hobbits.
existentialism courtesy of camus
LOTR, by Albert Camus
"I wish the ring had never come to me, I wish known of this had happened", I replied to Gandalf. I lived my life in the shire, and I knew my life there was privilged. This ring is not part of my life, it never was until my uncle dumped it on me. I was so sure of how things would become, so oblivious of the reality I have walked into. I laid my heart to this ring, open to the benign indifference of the universe. I did not feel it so unlike myself, indeed, it made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I could not be happy again until I was rid of this cursed tool of evil.
"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us" Gandalf solemnly spoke back, as if he were reflecting on events that had already happened.
-Ryan Dietrich
someone mentioned eecummings, and so I tried it...
all in black went nazgul riding... (with apologies to eecummings and jrrtolkein)
All in black went Nazgul riding
on a great wyrm of night
into the fires of Mordor
four lean orcs crouched low and snarling
the Merry, Pippin ran before.
Fleeter be they than Shire honey
the short sweet shirelings
the happy halflings
Sword at hip went Nazgul riding
riding the screams down
into the midnight dawn.
four lean orcs crouched low and snarling
the folk of Rohan ran before.
Swifter be they than seeking sight
the proud plains folk
the strong steed folk
Four fleet elves at a deep helm
the famished arrows sang before.
bow at belt went Nazgul riding
riding the nightmares
down into the darkest mines.
four lean orcs crouched low and snarling
the snowy peaks ran before.
paler be they than daunting death
the fierce foul Urk-hai
the sharp strange Urk-hai.
four tall Ents at a brown valley
the fires of Isengard sang before.
All in black went Nazgul riding
on a great wyrm of night
into the fires of Mordor
four stout halflings crouched low and smiling
evil fell dead before.
Address to a Hobbit
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the halfling-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to destry te ring
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
Oyrc knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Nazgul tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Ur-Uk-Hai, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.
Is there that owre his Numenor ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro' blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, Halfling-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.
Ye Pow'rs, wha mak man a' elf your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Mordor wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer
Gie her a HOBBIT!
Robert Burns
Stolen by a no-talent who really wanted to participate!....
monty python
Yet another Monty Python inspired LOTR
Aragorn—sing to the tune of Dennis Moore
Aragorn, Aragorn, riding 'cross the Shire/
Aragorn, Aragron , there they call him Strider/
He likes to kill Orcs/ And smoke a long pipe/
Aragorn, Aragorn, Now where's he gone?/
Aragorn, Aragorn in the inn at Bree/
Aragorn, Aragorn, a hobbit on his knee/
He likes to drink beer/ And pinch Arwen's rear/
Though not Gilgalad, not half bad, don't get him mad./
Aragorn, Aragorn smells of athelas/
Aragorn, Aragorn, been to Belfalas/
He has a broken sword!/
It's useless at the ford./
Dunadan, Dunadan, dumb again./
Aragorn, Aragorn, doesn't want the ring/
Aragorn, Aragorn, but can he be a king?/
Does he have the balls/
To knock on Sauron's walls?/
Like Isildur, Maybe Boromir, more like Butterbur/
This thread got posted over on a car board that I read. This is great stuff, and I can't come close, but here is my little homage to pop culture.
=======
Bilbo rushes into the house where he finds Gandalf staring at a ring...
"Gandalf!! Gandalf!! You gotta come quick, uncle Bilbo's disappeared and Mom is worried sick!! She's afraid he might be smoking pipe weed again!! You know how he can't control himself!"
Gandalf looks at Bilbo and then back at the ring...
"Frodo, do you remember when your mother took uncle Bilbo in and gave him the money to open his bookstore? All she asked is that he look after you and help keep you out of trouble. Well, I'm afraid, dear boy, that trouble has found us!"
Biblo stares wide-eyed at Gandalf...
"Gandalf, do you mean???"
"Yes Frodo, your sister is going to be moving in with us."
"But Gandalf, I don't have a sister? My Mom said I don't have any brothers or sisters!!!!"(Frodo begins to look questioningly at Gandalf)
"Frodo, my boy... the woman that has raised you is not your birth mother. This ring belonged to your real mother. You should have it now. You are a young man now and it's time you know the truth."
Frodo begins crying uncontrollably and hugs Gandalf.
"Gandalf!!!<sniff,sniff> Gandalf, why me?? Why wasn't I told? Doesn't my mother love me??"<sniff>
"She loved you more than you will know boy, and now, you need to carry out her last wishes. She wants you to take this ring and throw it into the volcano of Mount Doom. We must set out tonight, quickly, I will travel with you."
Frodo stops sobbing long enough to stare at Gandalf with a "deer in the headlights" expression of total disbelief.
"But Gandalf, the Hobbit's Harvest dance is this weekend!!!!!! Brandy Berry said she'd go with me!! She's the hottest girl in school Gandalf, everybody is already talking about how lucky I am!! I love her Gandalf, I'll not go!!! It's not fair, not fair!"
<Door flings open to reveal the outline of a young, shapely female hobbit>
"Frodo.... Frodo Baggins... What, don't you recognize me? It's me, Shanna Baggins, your sister."<Shanna Baggins pulls a pipe to her mouth, inhales deeply and blows a smoke ring that changes into the shape of a large stein before evaporating>
Frodo stares at Shanna, mouth agape.
"uhhhhhhhhhh.... Shanna?? Uhhh.... You're too young to be smoking pipe weed. Mom'll never allow that in this house. You're gonna get us both in alot of trouble if she smells it!!"
Shanna laughs loudly
"Oh yeah?!?! What's she gonna do about it? And you can forget about going to the dance with that bitch, Brandy. We're having a sleep-over instead that night, and I told her you could get us all the beer we can drink. If you don't come thru, she'll never speak to you again!"
Frodo stares in shock at Shanna and turns to Gandalf
"Gandalf!! Gandalf!!! Whatta I do??????"......
=======
Aaron Spelling - Shire 90210
The Hobbits Christmas Song a la The Chipmunks
LOTR as A Chipmunk Song
With apologies to Ross Bagdasarian, aka David Seville, and Bob Rivers
Gandalf: All right you hobbits, ready to sing your new song?
Frodo: I’ll say we are!
G: OK, Samwise?
Sam: OK!
G: Meriadoc?
Merry: OK!
G: Pippin? PIPPIN!!!!
Pip: Relax, old man, JESUS!
Shire shire times are here,
Time for chow and time for cheer!
We’ve been good but it can’t last,
Wraiths are coming, coming fast!
Want to get to Rivendell--
Skipping meals is bloody hell!
We can hardly stand the wait
Please Arwen don’t be late!
Elvish elvish times are here,
Elrond’s cool and Bilbo’s near,
Tales and beer and fire in hearth--
Best hotel in MiddleEarth!
Need to get to Mordor soon,
Drop the Ring in old Mt. Doom!
We’d prefer another way--
Please Elrond let us stay!
Mannish times are coming down,
Strider wants to wear a crown!
Battles where we fight like hell,
Ring goes bye so all ends well!
Back to Shire we hobbits race,
Frodo soon can’t stand the place--
Takes a cruise to heal the lack,
But Samwise says “I’m back!”
Gandalf: That's enough, boys.
All hobbits: Let’s sing it again! Yeah, let’s sing it again! I WANNA SING IT AGAIN GOD DAMN IT!
What if?
The Lord of the Rings:
By Edgar Allen Poe
Oh the power of the ring
The Golden Ring!
The end of the word a mere thing to sing!
In the darkness of the doom,
How we shiver in our room
At the powerful band of gold that shone!
For every one it corrupts
From domination one hobbit disrupts
Is a groan.
And the people - ah, the peoples -
They that dwell up in the steeples,
All alone,
And who, slaving, slaving, slaving,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a burden from disolving
On a corrupted one that shone -
They are neither man nor elf -
They are neither hobbit nor dwarf -
They are thralls: -
And their king it is to sing: -
The One ring, ring, ring, ring,
Ring
A pæan from the ring!
And no merry voice sing
With the pæan of the ring!
And he dominates, and he's king;
Keeping watch, watch, watch,
In a sort of rhythmic latch,
To the pæan of the ring -
Of the ring: -
Keeping watch, watch, watch,
In a sort of rhythmic latch,
To the emaciation of the ring -
Of the ring, ring, ring -
To the sobbing of the king: -
Keeping watch, watch, watch,
For the ring, ring, ring,
In a sort of rhythmic latch,
To the start of the ring -
Of the ring, ring, ring: -
To the end of the ring -
Of the ring, ring, ring, ring,
Ring, ring, ring -
To the moaning and the groaning of the ring.
Hey there gang!
Just found this site and thread today, through TheOneRing.Net, and couldn't rest til I'd read all six pages...hilarious, brilliant stuff! And along the way I found myself inspired, so I thought I'd contribute a couple of pieces...
Elflore, somewhere in the universe...
*****
ARAGORN skips through the forest, one hand on the pommel of his sword, the other holding invisible reins. LEGOLAS skips beside him. GIMLI follows behind, clapping two coconut halves together.
Aragorn: Come, Gimli!
Gimli: This is ridiculous! We're not even supposed to HAVE horsies in this film!
Legolas: Good Gimli, shush!
Up ahead, LURTZ THE BLACK URUK HAI fights an armored ROHIRRIM, with much roaring and gnashing of teeth. As Aragorn and his party enter the clearing, the Rohirrim groans and falls, spouting blood everywhere. Aragorn and Legolas trade appreciative nods, as Lurtz licks his blade clean and stands once more in the center of the road.
Aragorn steps forward.
Aragorn: Good Uruk Hai, your skill is impressive. I am Aragorn, King of Everyone in This Film Because I Say So. I wish you to join me and my Fellowship of Rivendell.
Lurtz: None shall pass.
Aragorn: I'll take that as a no, then. You make me sad. Come, Gimli. Good Sir Legolas.
Aragorn waves to his companions, who start to follow him across the clearing. Lurtz steps into their way.
Lurtz: None shall pass.
Aragorn: We wish no trouble, Good Uruk Hai, only to be on our way.
Lurtz draws his sword.
Aragorn: Very well.
Aragorn draws his sword as well; Legolas and Gimli stand back, exchanging anxious looks. Cue melodramatic music and several seconds of sword play, before Aragorn hacks off Lurtz's arm. Blood spurts.
Aragorn: We shall trouble you no further, sir. Good day.
Lurtz: Giving up already, eh?
Aragorn: You've got no arm!
Lurtz (looking at his bleeding stump): It's just a scratch. Have at you!
Cue more dramatic music, as Aragorn and Lurtz trade several more blows...before Aragorn hacks off Lurtz's other arm. Immediately he kneels and prays.
Aragorn: O heavenly Valar, I thank you for this most noble victory on this day...
Lurtz, hopping about, kicks Aragorn: Get up, you!
Aragorn jumps up to face him.
Aragorn: Would you quit that?
Lurtz: Have at thee, coward! The Black Uruk Hai of the White Hand always triumphs!
Aragorn: What're you gonna do, bleed on me?
Lurtz: Chicken! Bawk bawk bawk CHICKEN!
Aragorn: I'll have your leg...
Lurtz: Bawk baaaaaawk...
Aragorn: Right.
Aragorn hacks off Lurtz's leg. Lurtz hops about on one leg.
Lurtz: RIGHT! Now you've done it!
Lurtz hops some more, headbutting Aragorn.
Aragorn: Now this is getting silly.
Aragorn hacks off Lurtz's other leg, and Lurtz falls to the ground, but remains upright on his stumps.
Aragorn: Come Legolas, come Gimli.
Gimli resumes the coconuts, and the three members of the Fellowship skip on out of the clearing.
Lurtz: Come back here, you cowards! I'll bite your hairy feet off!
Pippin, to Merry, from where they've been watching in the trees: Hey, how did we get dragged into this one?
*************
And another...
*************
Frodo Fraggins, the Heroic Hobbit-Man, stands before Captain Aragorn, that Sword-Slinging Sentinel of Liberty.
Hobbit-Man: Well, Cap, it's been fun, but I gotta jet. I just don't think I'm cut out for the team thing, even a classy operation like your Fellowship. I gotta go my own way.
Captain Aragorn: I can't say I don't wish you'd reconsider, but I wish you the best of luck. You're a good man, Hobbit-Man, and a good soldier.
Hobbit-Man: Thanks, Cap...coming from you, that means a lot. And never fear. Your friendly shire-hood Hobbit-Man will never let the Infinity Ring fall into the hands of the vile Sauros or his evil minions. For with great power, even when held in the smallest of things, comes great responsibility!
Captain Aragorn: Godspeed, Hobbit-Man.
Hobbit-Man: See you around, Cap!
Captain Aragorn silently salutes, as Hobbit-Man swings off across the river, musing to himself: It didn't have to be like this. If only things had been different. If only I could've stopped the Black Balrog from throwing poor Gand Stacy from that bridge. If only I'd stopped my gentle Uncle Bilbo from using the ring which destroyed him. If only...but that's just how life goes when you're the Heroic Hobbit-Man...
Once Hobbit-Man is out of sight, Captain Aragorn is joined by the Mighty Gimthor, God of Thunder, and Legor, King of the Thousand Seas (who wears only a small pair of green underpants).
Gimthor: Captain...where is yon Hobbit-Man? And what of the perilous Ring he doth carry?
Captain Aragorn: The ring is in good hands, but our friend is gone. Hobbit-Man has his own road to follow. I only hope it brings him peace, in the end.
Legor: Aarr, I've tarried with you plainsfolk for too long! The trees need their king! I should return home, leave you mortals to your own foolish devices!
Before Captain Aragorn can reply, his com-unit begins chirping. He flips it open, opening the vid-link with Fellowship Mansion back in Rivendell. On the tiny screen appears the stalwart face of the Fellowship's trusted manservant, butler, gardener, mechanic, and otherwise jack of all trades except superheroics.
Captain Aragorn: Samvis, what's wrong?
Samvis: Sir, we've just had an urgent SOS from Boro-Man. He says Merry Man and the Pip have been captured. He is attempting a rescue, but he's badly outnumbered and the integrity of his armor has been compromised.
Captain Aragorn: Tell him we're on our way, Samvis.
Captain Aragorn closes and pockets the com-unit, sharing a knowing glance with Gimthor and Legor as they leap into action...
All three: FELLOWSHIP FORWARD!!!!!!!
From Fellowship Avengers, by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. Guest appearance by the Heroic Hobbit-Man, created by Stan Lee with Steve Ditko.
Addendum to Above
Oh, whoops...the first was an unedited version, forgot to add the title:
Monty Python and the Fellowship of the Ring
(I also left out Lurtz's immortal line, "It's just a flesh wound!")
Sorry!
If BestBrains did Lord of the Rings...
(someone mentioned it earlier)
LotR MST3K style.
In the not to distant future
Or maybe in the past
There was a guy named Gandalf
Who had a pointy hat.
He worked at the tower of Isengard
Just another guy with a long grey beard
He did a good job and had lots of power
But his boss didn’t like him so he
Trapped him a’top the tower.
“I’ll make a an Ork like Army
and call them the Uruk-hai
La La La
I’ll send them after the One Ring
‘cause I’m not a real nice guy.”
La La La
Now keep in mind Gandalf Can’t tell
how far the plot extends,
But he’ll try to foil all of them
With the help of his Hobbit Friends.
Fellowship Roll Call!
Merry
(Are we there yet?)
Pipin
(MUSHROOMS!)
Samwise
(Whatever you say Mr. Frodo)
Frodooooooo
(Dumb stupidy stinky Ring)
If you’re wonder what the big deal is
And other plot related facts.
La La La
Just repeat to your self “It’s a Tolkien thing,
I should realy just relax.”
For Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the rings: Expanded ediiiitionnnn.
(Twang)
(Door sequence.
Hobbit hole, knocking over Bilbo and a plate of food.
Rivendell
The Gates of Moria.
Lothlorien
Amon Hen
Isenguard
Pan back to reviel two figures standing in front of a Palantir. One Stocky man in White robes itching a fake white beard. A large curl of white hair hangs over his broad forhead. The second is a Tall thin fellow in a long green coat with a huge red eye badge over the pocket protector.)
Dr. Sauron: Ah, Hello Boobies. And welcome to the Ulitmate Blasphemy.
(Trapped in Moria: Joel Hodgeson in a very fake grey beard stands with the “Hobbits” ie Tom Servo and Crow with floppy curly hair wigs and vests.
Joel the Grey: Oh, it the evil overlords again.
(Isenguard)
Dr Sauron: That’s DARK evil overlord to you! I see you’ve escaped TV’s Saruman, but that’s not a big surprise. I knew I should never have subcontracted the job out to an idiot like him.
TV’s Saruman: Hey Steve! The Uruk-hai Union rep is here and he want’s to talk to you about “Over time pay”.
Dr. Sauron, rolling his eyes: Not Now Saruman! Can’t you see I’m trying to take over the WORLD HERE! Anyway, Gandalf, with the aid of this little trinket I’ve devised a plan so terrible, so insidouse, so evil it even creeps me out.
(Moria)
Joel the Gray: Uh, ok, so what is it this time? Army of Orks? More black riders?
Frodo Crow: Amway salesmen?
Samwise Servo: Privatizing Health care?
(Isenguard)
Dr. Sauron: Oh it’s much worse than that. As you know Gondor has been a thorn in my side for far to long! So with the Palantir, I’ve managed to get into the head of the Steward of Gondor and turn his mind to marmalade with reruns of “Three’s Company”.
(Moria)
Joel the Gray: You Feind! That IS evil!
Frodo Crow: Oh I dunno, it could have been worse.
Samwise Servo: How?
Frodo Crow: It could have been reruns of “She’s the Sherif.”
(Isenguard)
Dr. Sauron: Good idea, RingBot, but I already used that on Gollum. For you however, I have something far worse in mind. Apart from the usual Middle Earth monsters, I’ve assembled an army of Bad Film Actors to combat you and your “Fellowship” at every turn! In fact, I’ve given the Orks in Moria Joe Don Baker to help destroy you! Mwahahaha!
(Moria)
Joel the Gray: Joe Don Baker? I thought that was a Cave Troll.
Frodo Crow: Yeah, we whooped him already, what else have you got?
(Isenguard)
Dr. Sauron flipping through a note book: Ah Poopie. The only other thing I’ve got down there is a Barlog with heartburn and bad breath. (tossing the notebook over his shoulder) We’ll just see how you deal with that then. And when you’re defeated I shall Rule the World! Hahahahaha! Mwahahahaha!
TV’s Saruman: Steve! They say they get tomorrow of for the feast of the Deep Ones too. You realy should talk to these guys!
Dr. Sauron: Shut up you Ninny!
(Moria)
(Lights and alarms)
Gandalf: We got Expanded Edition Sign!
More Shakespeare! I find this a particularly moving soliloquy:
Piplet III.i
Piplet, Prince of Tookmark:
To eat, or not to eat: that is the question.
Whether 'tis healthier for the stomach to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous hunger,
Or to take arms against a lack of meals,
And by opposing end it? To feast: to dine;
No more; and by a dinner to say we end
The tummy-ache and thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a second breakfast
Devoutly to be wish'd. To feast, to smoke;
To smoke: perchance with pipeweed: ay, there's the rub;
For in that cloud of leaf what dreams may come
When we have finished with our tea and cakes,
Must give us pause: there's the leaf
That slows the pain of such long famine;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of misséd meals,
The ranger’s ignorance of elevensies,
The pangs of empty stomachs, the lembas’ taste,
The scarcity of pints and the spurns
That hungry hobbits of the unworthy take,
When they themselves might their hunger slake
With a full luncheon? Who would Ent droughts drink,
To quench one’s thirst but have nothing to chew,
But that the dread of something after fasting,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No halfling e’er returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather eat those apples we have
Than look for mushrooms that we’d rather have?
Thus cravings do make cowards of us all;
And thus the standard of six meals a day
Is sicklied o'er with this stupid quest,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
Like getting rid of that annoying ring,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the chance for supper.
Hobbits in Love, by D. H. Lawrence
Sauron knew himself to be evil; he knew himself to be the equal, if not far the superior, of anyone he was likely to meet in Middle Earth. He knew he was accepted in the world of evil and of power. He was a Dark Lord, a medium for the spreading of evil. With all that was highest, whether in society or in thought or in public action, or even in forging magic rings, he was at one, he moved among the foremost, at home with them. No one could put him down, no one could make a mock of him, because he stood among the first, and those that were below him, either in rank, or in wealth, or in high association of thought and progress and understanding. So, he was invulnerable. All his life, he had sought to make himself invulnerable, unassailable, beyond reach of Middle Earth's judgement.
And yet his soul was tortured, exposed. Even in his tower of Barad-Dur, confident as he was that in every respect he stood beyond all vulgar judgement, knowing perfectly that his appearance was complete and perfect, according to the first standards, yet he suffered a torture, under his confidence and his pride, feeling himself exposed to wounds and to mockery and to despite. He always felt vulnerable, vulnerable, there was always a secret chink in his armour. He did not know himself what it was. It was a lack of robust self, he had no natural sufficiency, there was a terrible void, a lack, a deficiency of being within him.
And he wanted something to close up this deficiency, to close it up forever. He craved for his ring. When it was on his finger, he felt complete, he was sufficient, whole. For the rest of time he was established on the sand, built over a chasm, and, in spite of all his vanities and securities, any common hobbit of positive, robust temper could fling him down this bottomless pit of insufficiency, by the slightest toss of the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom. And all the while the pensive, tortured Dark Lord piled up his own defenses of orcs, and Nazgul, and palantir-visions, and disinterestedness. Yet he could never stop up the terrible gap of insufficiency.
If only the ring would form a close and abiding connection with him, he would be safe during this fretful voyage of life. It could make him sound and triumphant, triumphant over the very wizards of Middle Earth. If only he could claim it! But he was tortured with fear, with misgiving. He made himself frightening, he strove so hard to come to that degree of fearfulness and advantage, when he should be so convinced. But always there was a deficiency.
The current Ringbearer was perverse too. He fought him off, he always fought him off. The more he strove to bring the ring back to him, the more the hobbit battled him back. And he and the ring had been lovers now, for years. Oh, it was so wearying, so aching; he was so tired. But still he believed in himself. He knew the hobbit was trying to destroy the ring. He knew the halfling was trying to break away from its hold finally, to be free. But still Sauron believed in his strength to recapture the ring, he believed in his own higher power. His own power was high, he was the central touchstone of evil. He only needed his conjunction with the ring.
Followed by 450 more pages of navel-gazing, self-important characters who never really do anything but talk to eachother...
quote:
Originally posted by Eöl
The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend.
Hrm..the way things are going, I think we'll see this one soon. lol
is!
(*)Anarwa na Vanye(*): In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. That's not to say that all hobbits live in holes in the ground, or to deny this because this particular hobbit the habitat he throuroughly enjoyed. Hobbits could as easily live in large homes and estates mostly anywhere they wished. Being a hobbit, Bilbo was vertically-challenged and heavines-endowed (note that this did not make hobbits inferior to the taller or less-obese peoples of Middle Earth, or even that all hobbits are so socially challenged. On the contrary, Bilbo's condition was a product of his diet and environment, and not a limiting factor in the least.)
--A Politically Correct 'Hobbit'
OK, this is a work in progress and I hope others will join in and help me with it...you don't have to keep going in order, just add what strikes you as apt!
The Lord of the Rings: The Rock Opera
with music (so far) by The Who, the Beatles, Blondie, Queen, Jerry Lee Lewis, and the SHangriLas.
Act One: The Fellowship of the Ring
Scene I: Gandalf Arrives:
Hobbit Chorus sings:
He’s a damn good Wizard
He’s always got a trick!
He’s a shit disturber
With his magic stick....
We ain’t seen any like him
Comin’ to the Shire--
That grey bearded old guy
Sure wields the Secret Fire!
Scene II: A Long Expected Party
Frodo to Bilbo:
You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time ....
Hobbit Chorus:
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party
Frodo to Sam:
I would like you to dance with Rosie (birthday)
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday)
Sam to Rosie:
I would like you to dance (birthday)
All:
Dance!!!
Scene III: The Shadow of the Past
Frodo:
Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay
Even though I’m not have the height I ought to be,
And a Shadow’s coming after me
I’ll take the Ring and go away...
Yesterday, the Shire was the place for me to play,
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.
Scene IV: The Black Riders
Ringwraith # 1 begins:
One way or another I’m gonna find ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha
One way or another I'm gonna win ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha
All wraiths chime in:
One way or another we’re gonna see ya
We’re gonna meetcha meetcha meetcha meetcha
One day, maybe next week
We’re gonna meetcha, We’re gonna meetcha, We’ll meetcha
We will ride past your house
And if the lights are all down
We'll see who's around....
Frodo:
One way or another I'm gonna lose ya
I'm gonna give you the slip, a slip of the lip or another
I'm gonna lose ya, I'm gonna trick ya
One way or another I'm gonna lose ya
Merry, Pippin and Sam chime in:
We;re gonna trick ya trick ya trick ya trick ya
One way or another We’re gonna lose ya
We’re gonna give you the slip
Scene V: Bree
Wraiths, standing over hobbits’ beds and stabbing:
Dum Dum Dum, another one bites the dust,
Dum Dum Dum, another one bites the dust,
And another one gone and another one gone
Another one bites the dust....
They realize it’s not the hobbit and let out a shriek and exit
Scene VI: Amon Sul
Chief Nazgul, stabbing Frodo:
Now I’m gonna get ya I'm gonna win ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha....
Aragorn, leaping at them with a torch and dispatching them one by one:
Reprise:
Dum Dum Dum, another one bites the dust,
Dum Dum Dum, another one bites the dust,
And another one gone and another one gone
Another one bites the dust...
Hobbits:
Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!
Scene VI: In the Wild
Arwen to Strider: What’s this, a Ranger caught off his guard?
Pippin to Merry [spoken]:
Is she really going out with him?
Merry to Pippin [spoken]:
Well, there she is. Let’s ask her....
By the way, where’d you meet him?
Arwen (singing again):
I met him up at Rivendell...
[speaking again] But we don’t have time for that now! I’ve been seeking you for two days! Where have you been?
Merry, Pippin and Sam sing to Arwen:
We met them up at Weathertop!
They hunted us and stabbed our friend--
You get the picture?
Arwen: Yes, I see!
Strider: That’s when he fell to--The Leader of the Naz!
Hobbits:
The wraiths were knocking all of us down (down down)
Arwen: The Nazgul come from the wrong side of town
Hobbits: Whatcha mean when ya say that they came from the wrong side of town?
Arwen: MORDOR!
Hobbits: Strider TOLD us they were bad
Frodo put on the Ring, it drove him mad,
That's why he fell to....the leader of the Naz!
Arwen: It’s time to find someone new
To heal your Frodo or he’ll be through
Hobbits: Whatcha mean when ya say that ya better go find somebody new?
Arwen: My dad, Elrond!
Sam:
I cried “Frodo, Frodo, Frodo!” (do, do)
But whether he heard, I'll never know!
Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!
I felt so helpless, what could I do?
Remembering all the things we'd been through.....
Frodo (weakly):
I'll never forget him--the leader of the Naz!
(this post was pointed out to me by a friend... had to add my two cents, heck, this is my first post!)
Franz Kafka:
And so here was the enemy, free and fresh, in festive garb, with a small gold ring on his finger, probably the Dark Lord’s own ring, and with a fearless intention of trying above all to destroy this ring. All seven gentlemen were already his friends, for while the men may once have had or perhaps merely pretended to have certain qualms about him, they now could probably find absolutely no fault with Frodo after the harm done to them by Sauron. One could not deal severely enough with a man like the Hobbit, and if Sauron could be reproached for anything, it was for failure to subdue Frodo’s recalcitrance in the course of time- enough to keep him from daring to face the Dark Lord today.
Now one could perhaps assume that the confrontation between the Frodo and Sauron would fail to have its effect on human beings such as it would appropriately have before a higher tribunal, for even if Sauron managed to attack, he might not necessarily go through with it all the way. A brief flare-up would be enough to make his nasty character obvious to this Fellowship- Gandalf wanted to make sure of that. By now, he was already casually acquainted with the shrewdness, the weaknesses, the whims of these individuals, and in this respect the time already spent here had not been wasted. If only the ringbearer had done a better job of standing his ground, but he seemed utterly incapably of putting up a fight. Had Sauron now been thrust out to him, the Hobbit would no doubt have pummeled that hated skull with his fists, yet he was probably unable to take the few steps separating them. Why had Gandalf not managed to forsee something that could be forseen so easily- namely, that Sauron was bound to show up eventually, if not of his own accord, then at least to protect the ring…
Robert Heinlen
Most of Helms Deep Square Black One was as flat as the prairie around the Shire, and much more barren. For this I was thankful; it gave us our only chance of spotting an Orc coming from below and getting him first. We were spread out so widely that between waves of a fast sweep was as tight a patrol as we could manage. This isn’t tight enough; any one spot would remain free of observation for at least three or four minutes between patrol waves- and a lot of orcs can come out of a very small hole in three to four minutes. Magic can see farther than eye, of course, but it cannot see as accurately. In addition we did not dare use anything but short range selective weapons- our mates were spread around us in all directions. If an Orc popped up and you let fly with something lethal, it was certain that not too far beyond that Orc was an Elvish archer; this sharply limits the range and force of the frightfulness you dare use.
The Lord of the Matrix
Orc lieutenant: I dispatched a band of Uruk-hai. Eastward across the plain. They're bringing the hobbits back now.
Saruman: No, lieutenant, your orcs are already dead.
Bilbo: Have you ever had that feeling, Gandalf? Where you’re not quite sure if you’re just spread out like butter over too much bread?
Gandalf: Yeah, all the time. It's called Ring-bearing. It's the only way to fly. Hey it sounds to me like you just need to unplug man, you know? Get some R&R?
Aragorn: [on a cell phone, calling from the other side of the Pracing Pony] Do you know who this is?
Frodo: Strider.
Aragorn: Yes. I've been looking for you, Frodo, but unfortunately you and I have run out of time. They're coming for you, Frodo, and I don't know what they're going to do.
Frodo: Who's coming for me?
Aragorn: Stand up and see for yourself.
Frodo: What? Now?
Aragorn: Yes, now. Do it slowly. The elevator.
[Frodo sees 3 Nazgul at the door.]
Frodo: Oh shit!
Aragorn: Yyyyeeeessss.
Aragorn: Ooh, squiddy’s sweeping in quick.
Frodo: Squiddy?
Aragorn: Nazgul, ringwraiths. Killing machines designed for one thing. Search and destroy.
Gandalf: Bilbo? The Bilbo? The one who beat the crap out of that dragon Smaug? Jesus.
Bilbo: What?
Gandalf: I just thought... you were older.
Bilbo: Most wizards do.
Gandalf: Most of my fellowship you already know. This is Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir. The little one behind you is Gimli.
Balrog: The great Gandalf. We meet at last.
Gandalf: And you are?
Balrog: A Balrog. Agent Balrog.
Gandalf: You all look the same to me!
Galadriel: I'd ask you to sit down, but you're not going to anyway. And don't worry about the mirror.
Frodo: What mirror? [Frodo knocks Galadriel's mirror off its table, spilling water everywhere.]
Galadriel: That mirror.
Boromir: Not like this. Not like this.
Saruman: Have you ever stood and stared at it, Gandalf? Marveled at its beauty? Its genius? ... Evolution, Gandalf. Evolution. Like the Ent-wives.
Gimli: So what do you need? Besides a miracle.
Legolas: Arrows. Lots of arrows.
21st Century Dostoevsky with Writes LOTR for Readers with Short Attention Spans
Notes from Underground, Being the Diary of Rodion Smeagolnikov
Part One: Crime
Friday
I’m not sure when it came to me that I wanted to bite the finger off this hobbit who stole my high school class ring. It might have been when my friend Kirilov, who’s a nihilist, told me to read Nietszche’s “Beyond Good and Evil”, and I realized that I was really a Superman, not just plain old Rodya Smeagolnikov, a meek, poor computer student living in a dank old hole and going nights to Stoorville Technical Gymnasium. Why shouldn’t I? I mean, rules are for ordinary people, not Supermen, right? Why should I let Frodo Drogovich get away with it?
Monday
I’m going to do it, I’m going to bite off Frodo Drogovich’s finger! Then everyone will see how great I am, maybe I’ll even get a job offer from Barad-dur Technologies!
Wednesday
Dream about a horse. I think I have epilepsy. They want me to take another pill. Maybe I'll just go off the Ritalin and Prozac. Supermen don't need medication!
Friday
OK, I ran into some snags. That slave-mentality goody goody greasy haired frat boy named Aragorn Arathornovich grabbed me and made fun of my Superman costume, so I nixed that. But I got away from him and found some Frodo Drogovich and his pal Samovar Samwisovich and I DID IT, I bit the finger off Frodya! Broke a tooth ‘cause the dude was wearing my ring. Shit.
Part Two: Punishment
Saturday
The thing is, to be truthful, it was gross biting off a finger, not fun, and now I feel GUILTY so I guess I’m not a Superman after all. My brother Alyosha and my sister Sonya were right. You shouldn’t do bad things. This cop’s been following me around, telling me if I agree to go back on my meds, get therapy and lay off the Nietszche, he can get me a shorter sentence at Siberia Juvie. But what kind of life is that? I’m just going to take the finger, my ring, my copy of “Beyond Good and Evil”, and jump in the River!
Epilogue
Somebody pulled me out. I ended up in Juvie, but I’ve found Jesus thanks to this priest, Father Zossima, and now everything is great with me. Well, OK it’s not, nobody buys this epilogue. Actually I drowned but that’s so downbeat.
If Bill Waterson took on Lord of the Rings
Calvin and Hobbes.
A quest thought the house to get to the cookies while avoiding the baby sitter.
Calvin: Frodo
Hobbes: Gandalf
Roslyn: Sauron/Saraman
Open on Calivin's bedroom, again unfairly sent to bed by Roslyn just after his parents leave for a night out.
Alone in bed Calvin looks out the window and makes a wish on the first star he sees.
Calvin: I wish there was a way I could get past Roslyn without getting into trouble like last time, but she took away my Stupendous man costume.
The door bursts open. A tall dark shadow stand in the door holding a staff and wearing a pointy hat. Calvin, wide eyed, pulls the covers up under his chin.
The drama is broken as the figure reaches up and switched on the light. It turns out to be Hobbes in a paper hat holding a toilet brush.
Hobbes:“Neato effects huh?”
Calvin: Who are you, Peter Jackson all of a sudden?
Next strip.
Hobbes standing next to the bed in his paper hat holding onto the toilet brush.
Hobbes: Roslyn sent you to bed at six o’clock?”
Calvin: Yeah! She’s still mad about me locking her boyfriend Chuck in the basement last time and not telling her. She needs to stop living in the past.
Hobbes: Well I think I’ve got an idea that will cheer you up.
Calvin: If you hid sardines in the bed again you’re going to get it and how.
Next strip.
Hobbes sitting on the bed in hat with brush in his lap. Calvin staring at him in astonishment.
Calvin: A quest? Like what? To foil an evil alien invasion? To save the world form over education?
Hobbes: Better than that, we’re going to destroy a ring!
Calvin: Oh no, count me out. Mom won’t let me anywhere near her jewelry box ever since that little incident with the buried Pirate treasure in the toilet.
Next strip.
Same scene.
Calvin looking at a small object in his hands: What is it?
Hobbes: It’s a Ring of Power. With it you can turn invisible!
Calvin: What does the inscription say?
Hobbes: It is written in the black speech of Odor, but in the common tongue it is a most terrible curse!
Calvin: It looks like it says “Roslyn, class of 2004.”
Hobbes: Fool of a Mook! Do not speak the black speech here!
Next strip
Calvin’s bedroom door. Calvin to one side, Hobbes to the other. Calvin peers out the slight opening.
Calvin: So you’re telling me that if we destroy this ring Roslyn’s powers as a babysitter will be destroyed as well?
Hobbes: Yup! And you’ll be free to sit up and eat cookies and watch TV all night long!
Calvin: And she’ll have to do anything I say?
Hobbes: Right again!
Calvin: Look out video store, here we come!
Hobbes: Vampire Vixens of Venus at last!
Next strip,
At the foot of the stairs, Calvin and Hobbes look around the corner and see Roslyn sitting on the couch reading with headphones on.
Calvin: This is going to be a snap! If I put the ring on it’ll make me invisible and I can walk right past her to the kitchen and drop it into the garbage disposal!
Hobbes: Oh no! You can’t put it on! If you do her evil radar power will pick you out and we’ll be done for for sure!
Calvin looking shocked: What kind of a stupid ring of power is that? Why not just have a foghorn on it and shout as we walk into the mouth of doom!
Roslyn getting up from the couch and taking the headphones off: Calvin? If you’re out of bed I’m going to tie you to the bedpost!
Hobbes pushing Calvin: Quick! Into the basement! It’s our only chance!
Next strip: Sunday full color.
Artwork: The fellow ship walk down a flight of stairs. Calvin as the Ring bearer.
Voice over: We walked the dark and lonely caverns of Moria, the bodies of fallen dwarves surrounding us. The threat of attack looming ever present. The stink of Orks hangs heavy in the air.
Artwork: The fellowship stand at the crossroads in Moria, Gandalf aka Hobbes pauses to try and remember the way.
Voice over: The quest to destroy the ring and seems cursed at every turn. Trapped here in the darkness we can only wonder at what evils the dark lord is causing on the outside world.
Artwork: The great hall of the Dwarven city
Voiceover: We gaze at a place long forgotten; in Awe and sadness, yet we press ever onward. But in the darkness unseen eyes track us.
Artwork: The fellowship look around in a panic as the sound of drums thunder in the air.
Voice over: Our luck was stretched to thin! Now the hordes will soon be upon us by the thousands and all will be lost in the city of the dead!
Artwork: The Barlog with the army of orks along side it rear up out of the darkness. The fellowship flees for their lives.
Voice over: The Creature of a time before time has come! A great fiery apparition as tall as a mountain lumbers through the great hall after the heroes. Doom seems certain! There is no fighting and no escape!
Artwork switches from fantasy back to reality.
Hobbes: It’s only the furnace coming on!
Calvin: Forsooth, I knew that! Now help me get out of the Dryer! I’m stuck!
Next strip
Hobbes holding a flashlight shines it up an old set of stairs: Hey, this must be the storm cellar door outside! We can get out here!
Calvin: Great idea, then what? Wait around outside until Mom and Dad get home and try to explain what I’m doing out in the dark in my pajamas with my dumb tiger?
Hobbes: Well it’s either out this door or we stay here and you starve.
Calvin: What do you mean me? You haven’t got anything to eat either!
Hobbes gives Calvin the “predatory” grin.
Calvin: Ok, give me a boost will you? The bottom step is broken.
Next strip
Outside the storm cellar doors.
Calvin: Ok Mister Wizard, we’re outside, now what?
Hobbes: I dunno, I’m tiered of doing all the thinking on this quest. You think of something.
Susie Derkins looks out her window and sees them both. She opens the window and calls to them.
Susie: Calvin? What on earth are you doing outside?
Calvin in a panicked voice: Egad! It’s the Elf Witch! She’s come to get us!
Next strip
Outside between Susie and Calvin’s houses, Susie is talking to Calvin from her bedroom window.
Susie: So you got locked in the basement and didn’t want to get in trouble so you came out this way?
Calvin: Forsooth and verily. The Wizard tiger and I are on a quest!
Susie: Yeah, right. How are you going to get back in?
Calvin eyeing the drainpipe of his own house: The wizard tiger is going to cook up a flying spell and we’re going to go back in through my bedroom window.
Susie walks away from her window: Right hang on a second.
Susie returns to the window: Here, You parents gave my parents a spare key for emergencies, just give it back tomorrow before anyone knows it’s missing.
Calvin Bows gracefully: Zounds, thou art truly a fair and just queen of the Elves and we are honored by your gifts.
Suzie: What ever, I just don’t want to be waken up by an ambulance coming to take you away after you fall off the roof.
Hobbes now animated since Susie is gone: Heh heh. Smoochie smoochie with the elf lady eh?
Calvin: Oh shut up.
Next strip
The back door to the house, in the kitchen.
Calvin: This is great! We can ditch the ring in the garbage disposal and destroy Roslyn’s babysitter powers before she knows what’s happening!
Hobbes: Lucky break for us! Then it’s cookies and tuna for everyone!
They open the door and start to sneak in. Roslyn steps around the corner she was hiding behind.
Roslyn: Ha! I got you now!
Calvin: The Ring! Quick where is it? We can turn invisible and get away!
Hobbes: you had it! I gave it to you!
Calvin: No you didn’t you bumbling old half-wit wizard!
Hobbes: Yes I did you half pint little…
Fight ensues, Roslyn sighs.
Next strip
Same scene
Roslyn reaches down and picks up a struggling Calvin and an inanimate Hobbes breaking up the “fight”.
Ros: I don’t know what you’ve been up to or why you were outside but I just know it’s going to be as bad as the superhero bit!
Calvin: But.. How did you know? We didn’t put on your ring!
Ros: So that’s why I found it on the floor next to the basement stairs! I thought I just left it in the bathroom! What were you going to do with… Never mind I don’t want to know.
Last frame: Calvin and Hobbes in bed looking disgruntled.
Calvin: Now what?
Hobbes: Either the land will be covered in an age of darkness or she tells your parents.
Calvin: I’m hoping for the darkness thing.
End.
Excerpt from:
"The Lord of the Rings" by Marian Keyes
Walking alongside Aragorn, Frodo would have looked rather small if Arwen had been there to see. From a distance she would have looked at the two and wondered if Frodo had been sent through some sort of shrinking machine (as found in many a science fiction film).
Behind them dawdled the other hobbits, Merry and Pippin. Despite the lack of female presence, life continued for the four males. At least, though, they were on their way to Rivendell, Arwen's primary residence. With the three hobbits and the one man, Arwen would have wondered whether they had all been put through a shrinking machine, or if Aragorn had, in fact, been sent through a growing machine. Arwen wouldn't have cared though, as long as Aragorn was close to her won height. She couldn't stand men who were short. It was such a problem, her being an elf and all. But when she hit 3000 and still wasn't married, she realised she'd better stop being so fussy. Although she had forever to find a man as she was immortal, she didn't WANT to wait forever.
Arwen slept in loneliness night after bleak night in Rivendell, forced by her restrictive father to stay, and not to wander into the hazards of the outside world. When one day her love of long ago, Aragorn Valentine, arrived in Rivendell, she almost didn't know what to do with herself.
His unchained masculinity and knowing glances of remembrance tore at her very essence until she just couldn't take it anymore. She decided: this was the man she would marry, whether her father liked it or not! She whipped immortality out the ivory-framed window and whisked herself into Aragorn's arms.
Ha! Myth, that's the best!
Gandolf: It was the year of fire,
Sauron: The year of destruction,
Aragorn: The year we took back what was ours.
Halidir: It was the year of rebirth,
Frodo: The year of great sadness,
Boromir: The year of pain,
Eowen: And a year of joy.
Aragorn: It was a new age.
Galadrial: It was the end of history.
Elrond: It was the year everything changed.
Gollum: The year issss...the year I losstss my Preciousss again. Filthy Hobbitssses. Losssst!
Treebeard: The... place...., Middle..... Earth
~Lord of the Babylon Rings. (or something)
J. Michael Straczynski
Ragsdale, loved your e.e.cummings! One thing though: e.e. never uses capital letters. You might want to change that.
Just for fun :P
[B]Mario Puzo (The Godfather)[B]
"Saruman, you are a powerful man with powerful friends. You are a man to be respected. And so it is on this day that I come to you, in friendship, with all respect, to seek your council.
You see, my young friend, Frodo, he has a problem."
Saruman nodded understandingly.
"He has this ring, a beautiful ring, but I feel it is an evil ring."
Saruman sipped his wine, stroked his chin, and began to speak.
"And you want it destroyed?"
"Yes, yes! You understand everything. Can you help me, my oldest and most trusted friend?"
"This, I cannot do --"
"Saruman --"
"Now you understand, it makes no difference to me what a man does with his belongings, or his time, unless they should conflict with my own.
Join me, Gandalf. And if an honest man such as yourself should have enemies, then they would become my enemies, and then they would fear you."
"Saruman, i knew you as a mean of integrity, a man of wisdom, but most of all a man of reason."
"Gandalf.. you're nothing to me now, not a wizard, not a friend. You broke my heart, Gandalf."
***
Frodo Baggins sat at the Prancing Pony tavern sipping on his ale. Suddenly a moth flew to him and landed on his lap. He asked Strider what it meant.
"It is an old Wizard message; It means Gandalf the Grey sleeps with the eagles."
Some suggestions for alternate LotR versions:
Based on Literary works
------------------------------
Walker Percy, the story set perhaps in Feliciana Parish, Louisiana, with the Ring = Heavy Sodium; or, for an even tougher challenge, in the sardonic multiple-choice question and answer "self-help book" style of his nonfictional "Lost in the Cosmos."
Bulwer-Lytton (this would obviously have to begin with "It was a dark and stormy night.")
Hamlet's soliloquy "To be or not to be." Yes, a humorous take on this has been posted, but I can envision a serious one with Frodo/Hamlet near the Cracks of Doom musing over whether or not he should destroy the Ring--and, most likely, himself in the process.
William Hope Hodgson's "The Night-Land"
H. Rider Haggard (a la "King Solomon's Mines" or "She")
Ian Fleming ("My name is Baggins. Frodo Baggins.") Perhaps it'd be called "The Man with the Golden Ring" or "Gold-ringer".
Other popular media:
---------------------------
What about "Star Trek: The Next Generation"? It'd be great if you could work in the Borg (Sauron/Borg King: "Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.") and maybe Q. Of course, you could alternatively set it as an adventure on the Holodeck, which would have one of its notorious malfunctions. Just casting this could be fun: Picard=Aragorn or maybe Gandalf? Legolas=Data? Worf=Gimli? (Let's leave Wesley Crusher out of the picture, though, ok?)
Doonesbury (This one could be fun, I think)
M*A*S*H* (I prefer the TV show to the movie)
And, that (tongue in cheeck) classic of TV classics: GILLIGAN'S ISLAND!!! Let's, see, Gilligan, Skipper, Professor, Mr. and Mrs. Howell, Mary Ann, and (what's her name? Ginger?)--that makes 7. Not quite enough for the Fellowship. Oh well. Maybe you could thrown in a few guest stars.
How about a Time Magazine man of the year piece on Aragorn or Frodo?
This is the greatest thread ever.
Someone please please please do an Anne Rice one. If i get some time later i will try myself.
ARAGORN: Hey Gimli?
GIMLI: What?
ARAGORN: What do they call a Big Mac in Erebor?
GIMLI: A side of bear haunch.
ARAGORN: Man, you dwarves are f***ed up!
GIMLI: That ain't nothing. We call a quarter pounder a Mega Mithirel.
ARAGORN: What?
GIMLI: Yeah, we use the metric system or s*** like that.
ARAGORN: What do you call a Whopper?
GIMLI: Don't know, never been in a Burger King.
George Lucas writes 'LOTR'
Sorry, guys! It was bound to happen!!!
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
From the red book, 'Journal of Whills'---
Many ages ago, in a world not
so far away. . .
THE
LORD
OF THE
RINGS
EPISODE I
'FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING'
Years have passed since the fall of the Dark Lord. Since
Sauron's death, many have felt that the threat from Mordor
was nullified, and not something to be feared again.
Unbeknownst to the planet, a Ring, forged by the
Dark Lord to preserve his power and enslave the world,
was stolen from his hand, and eventually found by a
decrepit being, Smeagol.
As the Council of Elrond endlessly debates over these
late affairs, Gandalf the Grey is sent to Hobbiton, on a
mission that could secure the One Ring, and bring peace
once again to the world. . . .
The Crack of Fire (with apologies to J. Cash)
I've only been able to come up with the beginning of this, which could probably stand improvement:
(Trumpets: dat dah dat dah dat da da da....)
Smeagol was a selfish thing,
And he found a magic ring.
Bound by wild desire
He fell in to the Crack of Fire.
...
With Apologies to the Bard
PROLOGUE:
Two Towers, both in same dark reverie,
In Middle Earth, where we lay our scene,
From ancient war, One Ring's new mutiny,
Where Entish blood makes wizard hands unclean.
For thus the fatal eye of Sauron sees -
A pair of star-cross'd Hobbitts Mordor seek;
While piteous Gollum with Elvish rope is towed
To flaming end will Smeagol's life still creep.
On fearful passage do the Rohan go,
And the constancy of a shield-maiden's crush,
Which, but for Faromir, would have no end,
Means now that Aragorn must stanch his lust;
And Arwyn's bed at later date attend.
What Tooks shall miss, Gandalf shall strive to mend.
Mythew, did you see Get Fuzzy a few weeks ago? Great stuff there.
LOL!! Yay more Shakespeare! Awesome, Lady_Lyonesse. Oh, and Macadamia (Oooh), the Matrix one made me die.
Here--to continue from my Hamlet, yet MORE excerpts from
Bard of the Rings
Aragorn and Arwenet
Aragorn: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Arwen is the Evenstar.
Arise fair star and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou, still fair, art much more old than she.
Be not her maid, since she be envious.
E’en though you’re o’er three-thousand you’re still hot,
And not just well-preserved, like mortal chicks.
It is my lady, oh it is my love!
Oh, that she’d stay in Middle Earth…
Arwenet: Oh Aragorn, Aragorn.
Wherefore art thou Aragorn?
Deny thy Gondor and refuse thy Bane.
‘Tis but thy Bane that is thy enemy.
What’s in a Ring? It is not hand, nor foot,
Nor shield, nor… sword… nor any other part
Belonging to a man! Oh, do not age!
Or if thou hast to, be but sworn my love,
And I no longer will be Elvenkind.
A Middle-Earth Night's Dream
Gandalf: Is all our Fellowship here?
Bottomir: You were best to call them generally, man by man, according Elrond’s orders.
Gandalf: Here is the scroll of every man’s name which is thought fit, through all Middle Earth, to go on our quest to destroy the One Ring in Mordor.
Bottomir: First, Good Gandalf, say what the quest treats on, then read the names of the travelers, and so grow to a point.
Gandalf: Marry, our quest is The Most Lamentable Wanderings and Cruel Quest of Frodomus and Gamgee. Now, answer as I call you. Bottomir of Gondor!
Bottomir: Ready! Name what part I am for and proceed.
Gandalf: You, Bottomir, are set down as yourself, a warrior who goes a little loopy over the one ring and dies most gallant for honor.
Bottomir: That will ask some tears—
Gandalf: Samwise, the gardener?
Sam: Here, Mr. Gandalf.
Gandalf: Sam, you must take Gamgee on you.
Sam: What is Gamgee, a wandering knight?
Gandalf: It is the hobbit that Frodomus must love in a strictly non-homosexual way.
Sam: Nay, faith! Let me not play a hobbit! I just shaved my feet!
Bottomir: Let me be Gamgee too! I’ll take a Rogaine footbath and speak in a monstrous little and strictly non-homosexual voice. “Gamgee Gamgee!” “Ah, Frodomus, my master dear! Thy Gamgee dear and gardener dear!”
Gandalf: No—you must be Bottomir… And Pippin, the hobbit, you the Moron’s part.
Pippin: Hahf yeu theh Moron’s part written? Pray yeu, if it be, give it meh, foor I am sloow of stuhday!
Gandalf: You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but one-liners.
Bottomir: Let me be the Moron too! I’ll be adorable and surprised and Scottish so that it’ll do any man’s heart good to see me! I will make reference to pints and second breakfast that I will make Lord Elrond say, “Let him be comic relief again! Let him be comic relief again!”
Gandalf: And you should do it too terribly. You would fright the audience and the teenage girls would shriek. Besides, you can play no part but Bottomir; for Bottomir is a sweet-faced man; a pretty darn hot man with a strange but unfailing appeal to a small but fanatically loyal fan base. Therefore thou must needs be Bottomir.
Bottomir: Well, I will undertake it.
Legolas: Crebainfromdunland!
Everyone: What?
Gandalf: Masters, here are spies of Saruman! Meet me on the Pass of Caradhras, for if we meet in the Gap of Rohan, we will be dogg’d with orcs! I pray you fail me not!
Bottomir: We will meet, and there may we be avalanched most obscenely and courageously! Take pains, bring the ring. Adieu!
Don Quifrodo by Cervantes
Just some ideas:
Don Quifrodo is an old, gentleman hobbit who has read one too many romances (in the old literary sense) about perilous quests and ultimate struggles between good and evil. One day he comes across a golden ring (his own, of course) and imagines it to be a repository of great evil power. Misunderstanding the warnings of the kindly Padre Gandolfo (whom he takes for a wizard), he persuades his trusty though dubious servant-hobbit [whose name escapes me] to set off to destroy it.
Along the way Don Quifrodo manages to rope a couple of his juvenile nephews (or cousins) into his deluded scheme and falls in with various prosaic individuals (tradesmen, merchants, village lasses, etc.) whom he believes to be elves, dwarves, kings, Elvish queens, and such. One night early in the story he battles it out atop a lone hill with a circle of ancient standing stones that the thinks are evil undead kings of men, managing to cut his shoulder quite badly on the sharp edge of one. (You get the idea, perhaps.)
This could use a lot of development but perhaps one of you can make something fun along these lines...
Yet more! I give you
Disney's The Little Elfmaid
*Part of His World* Soloist: Arwen
Look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?
Wouldn’t you think Rivendell’s just complete?
Wouldn’t you think I’m the elf, the elf who has everything?
Look at Imladris—treasures untold—
How many wonders can one safe haven hold?
Looking around you, you think,
“Sure, she’s got everything!”
I’ve got dresses and statues aplenty,
I’ve gazebos and gardens galore.
You want Evenstars?
I’ve got twenty.
But who cares… no big deal… I want moooooooooooooore!
I wanna be where the people are,
I wanna see, wanna be, a mortal—
Walking around getting—what do you call it?—Oh, old.
Living forever you don’t get far.
Aging’s required to love my Lord—all
The elves say that I’m crazy for saying I’m sold—
But out where they live,
Out where they die,
Out there were Aragorn can be all mine—
Aging but free,
Wish I could be…
Part of his wooooooooooooooooorld!
What would I give
If I could live out of these borders?
What would I pay
To spend a day Strider’s land?
Betcha offhand
They’d understand.
They wouldn’t dash the hopes of their daughters—
Telling them to
Take the trip to
The Gray Havaaaaaaaaaaans—Aaaand…
I’m ready to know what the mortals know!
Ask them my questions and get some answers!
Like “What’s a wrinkle? And how does one cover age spots------?”
Oh, I have the hots
For this mortal guy
And I want Aaaa-ragorn and I—
Aging but free…
Wish I could be…
Part of his woooooooooooooooooooooorld…
Snippet from "Leave it to Frodo" (This one really won't stand up to much scrutiny.)
Dad to Wally: Well, son, you'll be moving on to High School next year. Don't you think you've outgrown something like a Secret Decoder Ring, even one as unique as this?
Wally But golly, Dad, I've had it forever--ever since I found it on that Boy Scout campout.
Dad: Now Wally, you know good and well that you won it from Eddie [= Gollum] playing cards--and you really shouldn't have been betting to begin with. Isn't that all the more reason to let your brother have it?
Wally: Aw, Dad... But if you really want me to, I guess I can give it to the Beave. [Gives the Ring to his brother, tousling his hair as he does.] Here, kid. Be sure and take good care of it!
Beave/Frodo: G-gee, Wally, Thanks!
...
(Later, Eddie slyly enters the house to try to get the Ring back, but runs into June Cleaver):
Eddie: My, what a lovely ring you're wearing, Mrs. Cleaver!
Ringspotting
"Choose life. Choose a side. Choose a quest. Choose a fellowship. Choose a fucking big sword. Choose elven cloaks, horses, mallorns, and rings of power...choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are and why you've got to destroy the fucking thing. Choose sitting by a fire listening to mind- numbing, spirit-crushing ballads, stuffing fucking lembas into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable volcano, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats who left home with you. Choose a future. Choose life...But why would I want to do a thing like that?"
The Mordor Archipelago
How do people get to this dark and horrible land?
Rings & Wraiths, by Jane Austen
Jane Austen:
"If we thought alike of the Dark Lord," replied Frodo, "your representation of all this might make me quite eary. But I know the foundation is unjust. Sauron is incapable of willfully destroying the world; and all I can hope in this case is that he has been misrepresented."
"That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe him to be misreprented, that is is all an error and will soon be able to be hushed up, by all means. You have now done your duty to him, and must fret no longer," replied Gandalf. "And doing your duty by your friend, will you not throw the ring into Mount Doom and best suit your own happiness? If, upon mature deliberation, you find the misery of disobliging the Dark Lord is more than equivelent to the happiness of saving the world, I advise you by all means to stay home and await the Ring Wraiths."
"But, my dear Gandalph, how can you talk so?" said Frodo, faintly smiling. "You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at his disapprobation, I could not hesitate to throw in the ring."
"I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion," said Gandalf.
Has anyone done Faulkner yet?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Up in the sky we could see them flying. Now there are seven black circles tall in the sky. Mr Frodo is my master but he doesn't have broken legs. Mr Frodo's mother is a horse but Mr Frodo isn't a horse so how can that be. I had a horse but Bill is not now.
Gollum is not IS, either. We were going to destroy the ring but Gollum is a fish. Mr Frodo's mother is a horse but Gollum is a fish.
Mr Frodo wants to stop. We cant stop. Now there are nine black circles tall in the sky. We cant stop. Mr Frodo, I say. Mr Frodo.
MR FRODO SMELLS LIKE TREES.
If Sauron catches Mr Frodo then is Sauron was? I am is, but maybe is was and I dont know. On the ring are elvish letters on both sides but with no back. I dont know what that is. Is that why you are laughing Gollum?
"Yes yes yes yes yes, precious."
Gollum is a fish.
When you fall into the Cracks of Doom you can see your shadow rising up to meet you. That is the last thing you see and then nothing. All Hobbits at the end see their shadows rising to meet them.
The ring is WAS. But if it is how can it be was? I am is but the ring was were. Is that why you are laughing Mr Frodo?
"Yes yes yes yes yes."
Whoops, sorry treblif, I hadn't read all the way through the thread yet.
And the "Rings" rewrite of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Bells"? Absolute genius!!
Would anyone care to try "Apocalypse Now"?
Oh! This is _so_ great! BUT! You'll just have to do Terry Pratchett! I simply can't believe you'll have forgotten him!
from http://www.snopes.com/literature/onering.html
Claim: The once existed a ring which could turn people invisible
Status: False
Examples:
quote:
[Collected from memo detailing items pludered during war in 2nd age, late 2nd age
" Item: 1 magical ring, Notes: Allows user to [...], turn invisible, [...] use with caution.
quote:
[Collected from "The Diary of Frodo", late 3rd age]
"I knew all along that my uncle Bilbo was in possesion of a ring of most paculiar properties, I didn't know quite what until he handed it to me when he planned to leave for Rivendell all those years ago. Among its unusual properties included [...] the fact that it could turn people completely invisible to the naked eye [...]. [This] was a fact that I later used to both great advantage and folly.
quote:
The Balrog was a most fearsome creature [...] its wings extended like flaming umbrellas"
Addendum to Snopes reference above:
... except for a couple of noted consipircy theroists, nobody paid mucha ttention to it
Someone should do Zelazny.
Nine Companions in Amber
The Hand of Sauron
Sign of the Prancing Pony
Michael Crichton's 'Ring of Power'
Technology has come a long way. During the First Age, only boats and horses where at the top of the industrial pyriamid. After the fall of Melkor, and the throw-down of Third World creatures, the Second age introduced an interest in smeltering. One of the top industries was a small company on the west borders called Elven Smythes Co. Although small and not well known, they attracted the interest of a reknowned corporate executive, Sauron. Sauron had cornered the market early on in the Second Age, and decided to increase his profits by buying out Elven Smythes and employing them for his own commercial gain.
By the end of the Second Age, Sauron had mass-produced 19 rings, each one weilding a special power. In the Northern countries, he had given out three rings that controled aspects of healing and nature.
In the Eastern countries, he gave seven rings to the miners, so that they might increase their productions.
For the Southern countries, Sauron sold nine rings. The lords of these countries were so impressed by the jewelry that they each bought shares into Sauron's corporation, thus coming under his will.
In the end, Sauron poured all of his money and time into a Master Ring, one that would astound the world, and bring it to its knees.
One Ring to govern the world
One Ring to hold them accountable
One Ring to make them invest
And in the end, its non-refundable
By the Third age, Sauron's company had finally gone bankrupt and he was forced to surrender his Ring, and was arrested. But the time would soon come when he would activate his Ring, and finally rise to the power he so desired.
He should have never of left Hobbiton.
Frodo Baggins was sitting in a small area, surrounded by dzens of Dwarves, Elves, and a few humans. As he tried to focus his attention back to reality, Elrond, the CEO of Rivendell, was still speaking.
'Friends, we are on a journey. A jounrey that will either end in triumph, or disaster. And it all begins,' Elrond pointed to a golden ring, 'right here.'
One of the attending men, Boromir, stood up.
'Why can't we just use this Ring, and bring an end to this madness? Why?'
Gandalf, one of the top scientists of the decade, was present. An elderly gentleman, he did not take lightly to young, brash bussinessmen only interested in their own gains.
'Because of the dimensions,' bellowed Gandalf. 'The pressure built up by the use of this ring causes the psychological imbalance of all who carry it. If we wield this ring, it would bring a madness to the user, and all who come into contact with him.' Gandalf stared directly at Boromir. 'It would mean the end of the world.'
Boromir squirmed a little in his seat, unaccustomed to being rebuked.
Thread Title: Ask the Balrog
Posted By: Balrog
Poster: Balrog
Post: Well, I've decided to put up an Ask the Balrog thread because I feel that we Balrogs are grossly misrepresented. I gather most of you know Balrogs from the novel "Lord of the rings" but this is not an accurate portrayal of balrogs at all. So, ask away
Poster: jayjay
Post: How do you feel about being a Balrog? Do you think balrogs have been slighted?
Poster: Hello Again
Post: Do Balrog's really have wings
Poster: astorian
Post: Geesh! Not another Ask the ... thread, Havent we had enough already
Poster: jayjay
Post: Me again, how did you become a Balrog? If you were given a choice, would you still be a balrog or something else
Poster: gonzoron
Post: Are you ever going to reply
Poster: Threadkiller
Post: Whats it like living in Moria? Is it any different from the USA?
Poster: Balrog
Post: Hey sorry guys, I was away on a skiing holiday for the last couple of days.
Anyway: jayjay: I dunno, I guess I have always been a balrog so I dont know what its like to be different. I think Balrogs have been presented in a negative light more often than a positive one. I guess our appearence ust puts some people off.
Hello Again: No, I don't have wings, That was made up by Tolkien.
jayjay: I was born a Balrog. While I like being a balrog and really could't imagine being anything else, I guess being an Ent would be kind of cool
ThreadKiller: I guess the main difference between the USA and moria is that Moria tends to be a lot more quiet and secluded. The orcs aren't so in-your-face and loud as the typical american.
Poster: Fingolfin
Post: What qualifications do you have to act as a spokesman for Balrogs? How many Balrogs do you personally know.
Poster: Balrog
Post: As far as I know, I'm the only remaing balrog on Middle earth so I would say that that is a pretty good qualification.
bleh, my hands are tired
Note: All poster names were taken from the first page of this thread and inserted pretty much in chronological order. The content of the post has o relation to the actual poser.
Joss Whedon does LotR
Okay... I saw somebody wanted a Joss version done. I'm working on it... Thought I'd intro myself before I posted it. I'm new, LOL. No, but in all seriousness, I think my family is wondering what's wrong with me, as I keep laughing loudly and telling them things I'm reading...
So I'll join in the madness, complete with bad cultural refs. Yeah, I will.
In my post above on Stevenson, I forgot to add two very important Frodo quotes:
"To go gainst my dooty.. I's sooner loose my finger."
"One more step Mr. Smeagol, and I shall dash your brains out... dead gollums don't bite, you know."
One on Sir Walter Scott:
The Hobbit of the Shire:
The male hobbit at eve, had drunk his fill,
Where danced the moon on The Green Dragon's hill
And deep his midnight lair had made,
In lone Bage End's hazel shade.
But when the sun, his beacon red,
Had kindled on Bagshot Row's head,
The high pitch'd horses piercing neigh,
Resounded up the grassy way,
And faint, from further distance borne,
were heard the clanging hoof and horn.
Yell'd Gandalf the Grey, that wizard great,
"to your feet, hobbit, or you shall meet,
a death fit to make the strong grow pale
and a hobbit's strong constitution fail!"
The tufty pated hobbit that was so chas'd,
Sprung from his feathery couch in haste
But ere that fleet career he took,
The crumbs from Bilbo's cake he shook,
Like Bandobras Took, proud and high,
He toss'd his curly head to the sky,
A moment gazzed a down the dale,
A moment snuffed the tainted gale
A moment listned to the cry
That thickened as the nazgul drew nigh.
Chuck Yeagors' Autobiography
We didn't have allot of fancy elves around where I grew up. I always thought they were pretty, but something about them smelled a little weak. Not that there's anything bad about them... actually, I like them allot because they make all those pretty things that girls seem to like.
Most of the girls where I grew up were good. Too bad allot of the guys didn't notice. I learned as much as I could about them, and about the guys too. Seems allot of the people there just weren't paying attention to each other.
Frodo was a good enough guy. He always knew what to do when a girl came around, so I was really surprised when that old Gandalf came around trying to ruin our fun. But Frodo, he needed something more. I liked the little fellow, so, if he was going to stop chasing after girls for a while, I figured I better go help him find whatever he's looking for so we could get back to what is important: Girls.
But, whats-her-name is pretty nice lately... not worried about what others think, just making me feel good. After I get finished helping Frodo not get himself killed, I think I'm just going to hang out with her. Thats allot more fun than "finding myself", or whatever it is these guys think they need to do.
So anyways, Gandalf doesn't seem to like girls since you never see him with one. He probably thinks he's saving the world or something. I wonder if he even noticed that girls like Rosie don't care about all that.
That Gollum guy is the worst of the lot. All he does is talk to himself, and I think half of him is a girl. Poor guy. He should be put out his misery since he can't seem to get over himself.
I sure wish frodo would find himself. I'm hungry and I miss Rosie. I was having fun looking at those crazy oliphaunts untill those damned bad-guys came along making thier messes. They make me so mad I just want to spit in thier eye, and that's what I've been doing. It seems to make allot of the non-girl-lovers happy, if you catch my meaning. If I don't bust these Orcs' butts, I'm never going to get to hang with Rosie again.
Why are all these wimps looking at me funny? I'm just helping my buddy out so we can get home and have fun again. I don't think it'll ever be like it was, but if Frodo finds himself a Rosie, I'm sure our kids will do enough crazy stuff together and we'll all get a big laugh out of it.
Look, Gollums' sissy-side got the better of him. Ha. Looks like Frodo is free to go home now. I can't wait.
God, I wish everyone would leave this whole ring subject alone. We went, We saw, We kicked butt. It was our job. No big deal. We aren't heros, we were just a bunch of punks trying to pick up chicks and have a bit of fun. Of course, Rosie always knew what we we're really about. She's been really good about me leaving her at home and helping Frodo get over himself.
Too bad Frodo never did find whatever he was looking for. Maybe the elves and Gandalf and him are better off together. I'm sure they'll find another giant mess to get into, begging your pardon.
As for myself, I keep plenty busy nowadays with sleeping, eating, drinking, and watching these kids pound they're chests with the other boys. I have a feeling they'll be running off soon to find some big adventure that most of the little girls will be impressed with. Not Pippins' little girl though. She wants the boys to stick around but the boys just wont listen. Poor gal, she's just like Rosie.
Rosie sure has grown old gracefully. If I hadn't been playing "cops and robbers" with her once already this morning, I'd give her a good romp right now, but I'm kind of tired... Oops, she caught me looking at her again and here comes that smile. Good, she doesn't want to play "cops and robbers" either. I'll just look out the window for a bit and see if there's any evil afoot. Nope. All is well. Maybe I'll take a nap.
Hi everyone. This is my first post here. I think you are all so wonderfully talented! I laughed so hard my boss almost caught me surfing at work.
Here's my humble offering to this fantastic thread. Sorry it's so long, but this wasn't a story I could leave unfinished:
-------------------------------------------------------
The Ring
By Guy de Maupaussant
The date of the party was approaching, and Mme. Proudfoot seemed depressed and worried, although her dress was ready. One evening her husband said to her, “What’s the matter? The last three days you’ve not been yourself.”
She replied, “It’s rotten not to have a piece of jewelry, not a stone of any kind, to wear. I shall look poverty-stricken. I’d rather not go to the party.”
Her husband suddenly cried: “What a fool you are! Go to your friend, M. Frodo Baggins and ask him to lend you some of his jewels that he inherited from his uncle, Mad Bilbo, who used to vanish with a bang and flash and reappear with bags of jewels and gold! You know Frodo well enough to do that.”
She uttered a joyful cry: “That’s a good idea! I’d never thought of it!”
Next day she went to her friend’s house and explained her dilemna.
M. Baggins went to an old wooden chest, removed a burnished brass casket, brought it over, opened it, and said to Mme. Proudfoot:
“Take what you like, my dear!”
She tried the various ornaments in front of the glass, unable to make up her mind to take them off and put them back; she kept asking: “Haven’t you got anything else?”
“Yes, go on looking; I don’t know what you would like.”
Suddenly she found an ivory-coloured envelope containing a magnificent gold ring on a chain, and she wanted it so desperately that her heart began to thump. Her hands were shaking as she removed it from the envelope. She put it round her throat over her high blouse and stood in ecstasy before her reflection in the glass. Then she asked hesitantly, her anxiety showing in her voice: “Could you lend me that, just that, nothing else?”
“But of course!”
The day of the party arrived. Mme. Proudfoot had a triumph. She was the prettiest hobbit in the room, elegant, graceful, smiling, in the seventh heaven of happiness. All the men in the room seemed drawn to her as though by an unseen force. She danced with them with inspired abandon, intoxicated with delight.
She and her husband left about four in the morning (just a few scant hours before wheelbarrows would arrive to remove guests who had inadvertently remained behind). When they arrived home, she took off the wraps she had put around her shoulders and stood in front of the glass to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry: the golden ring on its chain was no longer around her neck.
They searched in the folds of her dress, in the folds of her cloak, in the pockets, everywhere; they could not find it. He asked: “Are you sure you had it on when you left the ball?”
“Yes, I fingered it in the hall at the Ministry. I had a strange urge to touch it.” They looked at each other, utterly crushed. Finally, her husband dressed again. “I’ll go back along the way we walked and see if I can find it.”
He returned about seven, having found nothing.
Next day, they went to the local jeweler, to ask if he knew where the ring had come from, and how a similar one might be obtained.
“That ring! One of a kind. You’ll not find one like it in these parts. Came clear from the Land of Mordor, so they say.” The jeweler was an old man with a long scraggly, white beard and curious grey robes. He flicked a bit of ash from his long-stemmed pipe and blew a perfect circle of smoke over the M. Proudfoot’s head.
“But we can’t let M. Baggins know that I’ve lost it,” wailed Mme Proudfoot. “Surely you know where I can buy one similar to his ring!
The jeweler, M. Gandalf, took pity on the poor creature. He placed his pipe on the counter and reached into a small drawer. Pursing his lips, he pulled out a worn map and unfolded it in front of the unfortunate Mme. Proudfoot.
“Here’s what I suggest. Travel quietly, and find a good guide. Also, take along a worthy Dwarf goldsmith – you’ll be wanting his help. Find your way to the Black Gate of Mordor, get in somehow (you’ll find a way, I’m sure) and make your way to the opening at the top of Mount Doom. There, you’ll have the good Dwarf forge you another golden ring.” Gandalf scribbled some words in a strange tongue on the corner of the map. “Make sure that these letters are engraved on the ring.” He folded the map and placed it in Mme. Proudfoot’s trembling hands. “That’s all I can do for you, Madame,” he said.
After making various barely plausible excuses to M. Baggins as to why the return of his ring would be delayed, Mme. Proudfoot and her husband set out on their journey. Ten months later, they returned. Mme. Proudfoot now looked an old woman. She had become the strong, tough, course woman we find in the homes of the recently tortured, or those who lived for years like rangers in the wilderness. Her hair was neglected, her skirt was askew, her hands were red. But she had the replacement ring to give to M. Baggins. He did not open the envelope to see it, but he did say, “You ought to have brought it back sooner; I might have wanted it.”
Mme. Proudfoot did not press him to look at the ring. What would he say if he detected the replacement? Would he think her a thief?
Some months later, still bent over and worn ragged by the toils of her great journey, Mme. Proudfoot found herself in Hobbiton, passing near the country estate of M. Baggins. In the fading light she could just make out the shape of M. Baggins and his gardener, M. Gamgee, traipsing down the road carrying rucksacks. She said: “Evening, Monsieurs! Where are we off to?”
M. Baggins paused, peering at the barely recognizable face of Mme. Proudfoot. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Well, no harm in telling you that we’re off on a great quest. My Uncle Bilbo left me a gold ring made by the evil Sauron. Turns out that its dreadfully dangerous, and I must go destroy it in the fires of Mt. Doom in the Land of Mordor.”
“But..but…” stammered poor Mme. Proudfeet, her heart nearly stopping its beat.
“Not to worry, I’m sure we’ll get it sorted out in no time,” M. Baggins continued.
“But M. Baggins,” Mme Proudfoot protested. “I never told you, but I lost that ring the night of the ball. I went all the way to Mordor to have another one forged, so that you’d never know. M. Gandalf the jeweler told me how to go about it!”
M. Baggins, deeply moved, took both Mme. Proudfoot’s hands. “My poor Melilot. Old Gandalf was mistaken. I never lent you the One Ring. The ring I lent you was made here in the Shire. It was only gold-plated – a mere trifle!”
For some requests:
Frodo and his Sam (Pinky and the Brain)
They're Frodo and his Sam
Yes, Frodo and his Sam
One carries Sting
He also has the Ring.
They're Shirefolk how nice
They're Fellowship's been diced
They're Hobbity
They're Frodo and his Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam.
Before each night is done
Their plan will be unfurled
By the dawning of the sun
They'll go out and save the world.
They're Frodo and his Sam
Yes, Frodo and his Sam
Their Middle Earth Quest
Depends on Gollum the Pest
To prove their Hobbit worth
They'll save all Middle Earth
They're Hobbity
They're Frodo and his Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam
Nazgul!
Fellowshipmaniacs (Animaniacs)
It's time for Fellowshipmaniacs
And we're questy to the max
So just sit back and relax
We'll fight 'til we collapse
We're Fellowshipmaniacs
Come join the Hobbit cousins
And the Hobbit Gardener Sam
Just for fun we run around Middle Earth, no scam
They want to lock us in a tower to torment us 'til we break
But we hide and sneak and then they freak
And now you know the plot
We're Fellowshipmaniacs!
Pip is cute and Merry yaks.
Samwise carries all the packs
While Frodo tries not to crack
Meet Gandalf (Grey and White) who doesn't want to rule the universe.
Legolas has a new bow; Gimli whacks all with his axe.
Boromir chases Frodo, while Aragorn recites a verse
The bards have flipped; long songs are the script
Why bother with this quest?
We're Fellowshipmaniacs!
We have save Middle Earth contracts.
We're heroic to the mx
There's elven blades in our slacks.
We're Fellowshipmanie,
Gonna save the day-ey
Fellowshipmaniacs!
Those are the facts!
The Far Side
<drawing of two Hobbits looking down into a volcanic rift, one is missing a
finger>
[caption]
"That has got to hurt.'
"Not as much if he knew I wear the Ring on my other hand."
Downfall of the Lord of the Rings Now
[Scene: Darly lit interior of an inn room sized for Hobbits]
(Voiceover as a partially clad Hobbit ambles around aimlessly, finally going berserk and injuring himself in a bizarre gardening accident)
"I was in Bree again. I wanted a quest. And for my sins, they gave me one. And when it was over, I would never want to go on another one. After my last quest, all I could think about was going back to the Shire. And when I was in the Shire, all I could think about was me next quest. And here I was, sitting in the Prancing Pony in Bree and getting soft, while out there in their caves under the Misty Mountains, Charlie was staying hard. I had to get out of here."
[Scene: a council room in Rivendell]
Gandalf: I am Gandalf the Istari. That is Elrond Half-Elven, and that is Mr. Strider. Have you ever met any of us before?
Frodo: No sir, I haven't.
Gandalf: Are you Frodo of the Shire? Assigned to the Fellowship?
Frodo: I'm sorry sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and if I did I would not be disposed to discuss it at this time.
Gandalf: And your Uncle Bilbo was involved in the assassination of the Dragon Smaug?
Frodo: I'm sorry sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and if I did I would not be disposed to discuss it at this time.
Elrond: What do you know of Sauron?
Frodo: I'm not sure I've heard much of him before sir.
(a bard is summoned and a number of lays are sung)
Gandalf: We'd like you to take Sauron's ring, travel down the Anduin, then proceed overland to Mount Doom and terminate his Ring.
Elrond: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
Frodo: Terminate his ring?
Mr. Aragorn: Terminate Sauron.
[Scene: on Anduin in elven boats]
(Voiceover as Frodo pores over books of lore)
"I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe this guys record. A Maia of Aule? Chief Lieutenant to Morgoth? Managed to destroy Numenor and escape. Nearly Conquered Middle Earth. Nearly. And now he was going to try again, and this time he would succeed. And they wanted me to travel into his stronghold and destroy his ring. I couldn't believe it."
(It would take a long time to finish this. Way too many scenes would convert so well.)
Dunno if y'all have noticed yet, but our little thread is currently one of the many features on the home page of TheOneRing.net. It's currently about 2/3 of the way down the page, under "Dec. 22."
I was wondering why so many newbies were posting lately... Welcome, all!
Quoting ToRN: " . . . fantastic message board thread . . ."
Is the SDMB fantastic or just this thread?
Lord of the Rings by Kevin Smith
or
Jay and Silent Bob Do Mordor
Frodo - I dunno about you, Chubs... but I ain't had any fucking weed in months and I am about ready to call the whole fuckin' thing off. What the shit is with the stupid ring anyway? And that old dude with the stick... jesus fucking christ, was he watchin' my ass or what?
Sam - ...
Gollum - Nassssty little hobbitses... curse way too much.
Frodo - Yo, when I want your fuckin opinion, slimy little shit...
Sam - *holds Frodo back, looking at him reproachfully*
Frodo - *backing off* Man, let's get this fucking quest or whatever over with. I got some people waitin' back home for their smokes and they owes me money and shit.
*flips the ring*
Hey I wonder what kind of cock ring this thing would make? Be fuckin cool, huh? Chicks would dig it! Bet they got some kick-ass fuckin' chicks in Mordor... it sounds like a fuckin-A place.
Sam - *shakes head and keeps pulling Gollum along*
Gollum - Nasssty little Hobbit... curssssssesssss too much.... hurtssssss my little earses... why does the fat one stay with him?
Sam - *shrugs* My precious...
The Power Ring Orange
{Best when read with "The Thieving Magpie" or Beethoven}
A Power Ring Orange by Anthony Burgess.... (excerpt)
There is me, that is Frodo, and my 3 droogs, that is Pippin, Merry, and Sam. We sat in the Barliman milkbar govoreeting and peeting the old elf moloko plus. That could be moloko moriquendi to send you into the deepest stygian depths, or moloko noldori which made you feel high and mighty and immortal or moloko uruk which would sharpen you up quick and make ready for the old ultraviolence. That is what I was peeting between cups of warm chai, for we had a long long night ahead of us, O my brothers. And I sat with my glazzies fixed on the groodies of a particularly tasty hobbit ptitsa and thinking of the old in out, when Sam spots this chelloveck sitting in the corner, peeting his ale and his eyes fixed on your friend and humble narrator. "'Ere! What are you gobbing at!" says Sam, "Come and catch one in the yarbles...if you have any yarbles!" Up comes this gent dressed in the height of fashion and govoreets in the high pretentious golloss of Gondor, "My my, but we have been a naughty fellow, have we not Mr. Frodo". "I know not what you mean," says I playing the innocent, "Good governor, I've been as good and stout a lad as any." "Tut tut! But the millicents are on to you, and there will be no slap on the wrist this time. It will be off to the big house for you if they catch you. Nine millicents, great black fellows, and they know what you've taken....that pesky little ring eh?"
31,000 views? Holy Schlamoley! Is that a record? Some diligent (or anal compulsive) doper will have to make an index of authors spoofed!
lol, I think it was that link from The One Ring. Net that did it... I guess.. that's where I came from
I don't think anyone has done this yet, but I saw a suggestion for it.
Shakespeare's Hamlet:
To destroy, or not to destroy: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to claim
The ring and keep the outrageous fortune,
Or to throw it into a sea of fire,
And by destroying end it? To die: to destroy;
No more; and by destroy to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand deaths
That people are fate to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to destroy;
To destroy: perchance to live: ay, there's the rub;
For in that thought of destruction what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Arg... I tried. I don't think I even did it justice though. Someone please re-do this and do a better job at it.
~Aya~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/limmenel
http://envisioning.cjb.net
Well, by the forgotten Vala warrior sibs Makar and Meassë, welcome to the TORN types!
Ilyain antanentë lestanen i annar Ilúvataro.
The Ring: Charge of Rohan by Michael Stackpole
Aragorn gripped the reins to his horse tightly. He'd done this a thousand times but it still never got dull. He checked his flanks, Legolas on his right, Gimli on the left...both of them able fighters. Theoden, at the head of the formation, started the maneuver, "Forth Eorlingas!" he shouted and they all spurred their horses Forward.
"Orcs!" Legolas shouted.
Aragorn was somewhat annoyed "I know!"
"Lots of them! And they're Uruks!"
Aragorn saw the first of several Uruks charging up the ramp. He gripped the reins and steered his horse into a tight turn, the centripedal force almost wrenching him from the saddle. At the same time he swung his sword arm out, letting the horse's momentum do most of the work. He caught the first Uruks by surprise and all he heard was their staccatto screams which were abruptly cut off as his sword sliced their heads from their bodies.
Wait, wait. I got it:
Michael Flatley's Lord of the Ring
Tap tap tap tap.
Clomp cla clomp clomp.
Clomp clompa Clomp clompa Clomp clompa Clomp clompa CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP.
CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP
clomp clomp CLOMP
(massive ovation.)
quote:
Originally posted by velvetrose
Lord of the Rings by Kevin Smith
or
Jay and Silent Bob Do Mordor
Frodo - I dunno about you, Chubs... but I ain't had any fucking weed in months and I am about ready to call the whole fuckin' thing off. What the shit is with the stupid ring anyway? And that old dude with the stick... jesus fucking christ, was he watchin' my ass or what?
Sam - ...
Gollum - Nassssty little hobbitses... curse way too much.
Frodo - Yo, when I want your fuckin opinion, slimy little shit...
Sam - *holds Frodo back, looking at him reproachfully*
Frodo - *backing off* Man, let's get this fucking quest or whatever over with. I got some people waitin' back home for their smokes and they owes me money and shit.
*flips the ring*
Hey I wonder what kind of cock ring this thing would make? Be fuckin cool, huh? Chicks would dig it! Bet they got some kick-ass fuckin' chicks in Mordor... it sounds like a fuckin-A place.
Sam - *shakes head and keeps pulling Gollum along*
Gollum - Nasssty little Hobbit... curssssssesssss too much.... hurtssssss my little earses... why does the fat one stay with him?
Sam - *shrugs* My precious...
I know a saw a Dr. Seuss post early on, but I couldn't help myself.
The Grinch of the Rings.
Every down in Middle earth liked things a lot.
But Suaron who lived on Mount Doom did not.
Sauron hated Middle earth; every bit of it displeased him.
Now please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his Room was just such a fright,
Or it could be he lost his ring and his body in a fight.
But I think, the most likely reason of all
Was that since then he’s been nothing but one huge Flaming Eyeball.
But whatever the reason, being an Eye or his Ring,
He stood there all day hating everything.
Staring down from Mount Doom Frowning as much as an eyeball can
At the happiness of the elves and the dwarves and humans.
For he knew every creature in middle earth
Was Happy and free from his strife and his grief.
“Somewhere out there” He snarled with a sneer
“Frodo’s got my One Ring, and he’s Bringing it Here!”
And he growled with his eyebrow nervously twitching.
“I must find someway to stop the Fellowship from Coming!
For someday I know, that stupid Hobbit boy will show up unexpected with my little bauble.
And then, mark my words, there’s going to be trouble!”
“Hobbits Hobbits Hobbits!
If there’s one thing I hate it’s the Hobbits Hobbits HOBBITS!
With their ‘Eleverntyfirsts’ and their Fuzzy feet,
And there twenty-five meals that they constantly eat!
It’s a wonder the butchers can cut all the meat!
They smoke on their pipes and smoke awful pipe weed.
And they drink and they drink gallons of mead!
And then there are Elves that think they’re so pretty
And Dwarves in their mines getting all kinds of dirty!
And the lot of them ALL OF Them partying into the night
No one can tell me that that is all right!
But let’s not forget the biggest of pains!
Those weak hearted, blundering awful humans!
Look at them now,
In Rivendell they’re gathered the lot.
Making their plans, me they want to stop!
Now they’re doing something I hate most of all.
Leaving it up to Frodo, so puny and small.
Nine others have joined him to destroy the ring!
I’ll smite them for here if they start to sing!”
The more he thought about this Fellowship thing
The more Sauron thought; “I must stop this whole thing!
Why for three ages I’ve put up with them now!
I must stop them from coming! But how?”
And then he got an idea.
An Awful idea.
Sauron got a wonderful awful idea.
“I know just what to do!” He started to gloat.
“I’ll enslave Saruman and have HIM sort it out!”
He chuckled and clucked: “And then comes the trick.
I’ll crush Saruman too like grapes under a brick!”
“Now all I needs is a Palantir.”
Sauron looked around
But since Palantir’s were scarce there were few to be found.
But did that stop Sauron? HA! He simply said
“I’ll put one in Gondor and the other under Saruman’s bed!”
Soon he had Saruman under his power
And then the whole of Isengard tower.
And as he turned his attention to the Steward of Gondor
He told Saruman to make an army “Worthy of Mordor!”
So Saruman started by ripping up the trees
And making Uruk-hai he did with ease.
“Go get those hobbits” Saruman said. “And bring them back here.
The rest of the party you can tear off their ears!”
Amon Hem was a mess, the fellowship didn’t care.
They didn’t know the Uruk-hai would soon be there.
But Boromir went and tried a stupid thing.
The weak minded human tried to steal the one ring!
The villains showed up before Boromir came to his senses
But Merry and Pippin soon fell into their clutches.
While Frodo and Sam headed to Mordor
Aragon suggested hunting some ork.
“The fellowships broke!” Sauron hissed
As he watched Sam and Frodo head into the swampy mists.
“But the ring is still coming!” He raged in a fit.
“Since Saruman couldn’t do it I’ll let Gollum try for a bit!”
But the Smeagul got stuck in his love for the ring
And soon it became quit clear he couldn’t do this thing.
“Oh that twisted freak” said Sauron “Will be the first one to go!
I’ll string every one of them up all in a row!”
Gollum slithered and slunk with ideas most unpleasant
But to his dismay Samwise was always present.
“Furnace Fire! Blazing Barns! Checkerboard Cheaters!”
Sauron raged, “They’re getting closer and closer by meters!”
He thought about packing his bags and making a run for it
But then Sauron thought, they’re not all the way yet.
“I’ve got a million Orks,” He reminded himself,
“And that spider woman downstairs is in pretty good health.
I won’t worry yet, but one thing I must do sooner than not
Is call Saruman and get his report.”
Then he went to the Palantir rang Saruman’s halls.
“They’ve taken the walls! They’ve taken the yard!” Shouted into the call.
“They’re Flooding the place like some kind of beasts!
The Ents won’t even leave the sidewalk in one piece!
We’re out of fighters and low stash,
We’re right down to our last can of beef hash!
Aragon kicked Wormtongue out of Rohan’s court you can see,
And now,” Cried the wizard, “They’re all out to get me!”
As he Cried and he wined, and started to weep,
Sauron realized he had employed a true creep.
He decided he’d better cut ties with him fast
Before doom was set and the die was cast.
Saruman stared at the dark lord and said
“Sauron, why? Why are you abandoning me to these moving trees? Why?”
But you know that old Sauron was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.
“My dear little man.” The old dark lord lied.
“There’s no reason to panic, no reason to hide.
I’ve dispatched an army to save you white rear
To fix things up there, and then come back here.”
And his fib fooled the man, thinking he’d saved his head
“Why not have a drink and then go to bed.”
And when the call was done and Saruman had his cup
The giant Eye raged, “This all getting messed up!”
Then he went into mount doom and he stoked up the fire
And ranted and raved by the light of the pyre.
The one speck of hope he had left for his plan
Was that the spider monster would stop any man.
Then he inspected the troops rousing them to be alert
For two furry footed annoying spoil sport twerps.
It was a quarter of dawn; all the orks still a bed
All the nazgul still a snooze when came the news he had dread.
His hope had been defeated, the Spiderwoman was beaten
The hobbits must have snuck past while the guards had been eating!
Ten thousand feet up, climbed the rotten little hobbit
With his pal he was climbing, with the ring, there to dump it!
“Oh NO!” Cried the dark lord, sick to his tummy
“No matter what I do they just keep s’ coming!
They’ll get to the top and I know just what they’ll do!”
And the great eye blinked for a minute or two
And all the Nazgul cried out BooHoo!
“This is the moment that I have feared!”
He paused, but a voice then came to his ear.
But he didn’t vanish to nothing in a stunning blow.
He heard a voice quiet and low
But then it started to grow!
Why this wasn’t sad.
This voice sounded Mad!
The Hobbit had made it to the very top after all
And had gone as crazy as a square beach ball!
And Sauron stared and blinked very slow.
He watched puzzling. “How could this be so?
The Hobbit had survived Moria! He survived the Orks!
The Barlog! Gollum and that Boromir dork!”
He watched puzzling as Frodo put on the ring.
“I take the power!” The Hobbit said. “I will be the dark king!”
And then Sauron thought of something he hadn’t before.
Maybe Hobbits were really evil to the core!
Maybe, perhaps, more evil than he ever was before!
And what happened then, well in Gondor they say
Gollum jumped out and he saved the day!
And then his true meaning started to come through
For Gollum was as strong as ten hobbits, plus two!
And he wrestled with Frodo to get back his precious
Gollum bit Frodo’s finger in an attack most vicious
But Gollum fell back into the depths of Mount doom
Taking the ring with him as he shouted “WHOOHOO!”
And in the hot lava Smeagul was destroyed
Along with the ring, Sauron’s greatest of toys.
And Frodo was called the hero since no one new how close a thing
Middle earth had ever come to having a crazy Hobbit for a king!
The Lord of the Rings
Or, The Muppets Take Morder
by Jim Henson
Elves:
It's time to pack the lembas,
It's time to fight the fights,
It's time to walk to Morder with the Fellowship tonight.
Orcs:
It's time to put on chain mail,
It's time to dress up right,
It's time to give the business to the Fellowship tonight.
Gandalf: Why did we ever come here? (whacks Saruman)
Saruman: I guess we'll never know. (grabs Gandalf's beard)
Gandalf: It's like a kind of torture (pokes Saruman in the eye)
Both: To have to watch this show! (Saruman pushes Gandalf off the balcony)
Gollum (screams)
"My Precioussss!"
(Gollum makes a run at Frodo, but he gets trampled by Dwarves, the Nazgul, three Ents and some Gondorian sheep)
Sheep:
Baaaaaaa!
Fellowship:
And now let's get things started...
The Dead Men of Dunharrow:
Why don't you get things started?
Frodo:
It's time to get things started
All:
On the most sensational, inspirational, celebrational, Tolkien-ational --
This - is - what - we - call - the - Hobbit - Show!
(Boromir blows his horn, then gets hacked to death by orcs)
Ghost Of Ann Landers that was GREAT!
Abbot and Costello.
Gandalf looking for a ranger, has set up in a booth in the prancing pony and taking applicants.
Gandalf: All right, you have to understand. These hobbits have some very strange names.
Aragon: Realy?
Gandalf: Well, we’ll be traveling with four Hobbits. The Ring bearer’s name is who, his gardener’s name is what, and then we have…
Aragon: Wait a second. What’s the ring bearer’s name?
Gandalf: No, that’s the gardeners’ name.
Aragon: What?
Gandalf: Yes.
Aragon. Yes what?
Gandalf: What are you talking about?
Aragon: The ring bearer. I was asking his name.
Gandalf: Who.
Aragon: The Ring bearer, the hobbit with the One Ring.
Gandalf: Who.
Aragon: The one with the ring!
Gandalf: Who!
Aragon: The One with the RING!
Gandalf: Who!
Aragon: Ok, Fine, then what’s the Gardeners name?
Gandalf: Yes.
Aragon: Yes is the gardeners name?
Gandalf: No!
Aragon: then What Is the Gardeners name!
Gandalf: That’s what I said!
Aragon: All right, fine, just, fine. What about the other two?
Gandalf: Ifor Get. Ida Know.
Aragon: If you’re in charge of the quest you should find this stuff out.
Gandalf: You keep up that attitude and I’ll find another ranger for this job.
Aragon: Me? You don’t know who’s going on the quest.
Gandalf: Of corse I do. We can’t go with out him!
Aragon: Who?
Gandalf: Yes.
Here's my first post- I'd written it a while earlier, but nobody else seems to have done a Good Omens one.
Lord of the Good Omens, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Prachett.
It was a nice day.
All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than billions of them so far, according to the Silmarillion, and rain was uncommon this time of the year. But clouds massing east of Isengard suggested that a thunderstorm was on the way, and it was going to be a big one.
A wizard put his pipe between his teeth as the first drops fell.
"I'm sorry," he said politely. "What was it you were saying?"
"I said, that one went down like a lead balloon." said the other wizard.
"Oh. Yes." said the first wizard with the pipe, whose name was Gandalf the Gray.
"I think it was a bit of an under-reaction on my part, to be honest," said the other wizard. "I mean, first offense and leniency and everything. I can't see why you missed the events happening in the Shire, unless you must have been smoking too much of that hobbit weed."
"It can't be that bad," reasoned Gandalf, in the slightly concerned tones of one who can't see it either, and is worrying about it, "otherwise I wouldn't have noticed when Radagast came to see me. And why aren't you in white, come to think of it?"
"White? White cloth can be dyed, a white page can be overwritten. White light can be broken. And have you any idea how high my laundry bill is? White just shows all the muck and grime." said the other wizard, whose name was Saruman the White, although he was thinking of changing it now. White, he'd decided, was not his color...
"But it's no longer white, is it?," said Gandalf. "And you know, someone who breaks something just to see how it'd turn out is a plain bloody git. It's down to your basic, you know. Color. Nothing personal, Saruman the White."
"You've got to admit it's a bit of a pantomime, though," said Saruman. "I mean, a new Power is rising, and we can't really stand much against him, not with our old allies and all that rot. Not to mention, he provided me a new wardrobe as part of my new job benefits. Pretty good bargain, there. Maybe you could wear something other than gray."
"It's best not to talk like that, Saruman," said Gandalf. "I've heard speeches of that kind before, and they come straight out of Mordor."
They stood in embarrassed silence for a while, watching as fat drops of rain started to bruise the flowers.
Eventually, Saruman said, "You did find the Ring, didn't you? The one with the fiery writing on it."
"Er," said Gandalf. A guilty expression passed across his face, and then came back and camped there.
"You did, didn't you?" said Saruman. "It's supposed to flame like anything."
"Er. Well-"
"It looked very impressive, I thought, with that Black Speech all over it."
"Yes, but. Well-"
"Lost it, have you?"
"Oh no! No, not exactly lost, more-"
"Well?"
Gandalf looked wretched. "If you must know," he said a trifle testily, "Bilbo gave it away."
Saruman stared at him.
"Well, I had to let him do it," said Gandalf, rubbing his hands distractedly. "Frodo looked so sad, poor thing, and he's lost Bilbo and all, and what with the vicious Black Riders and all out there, and the storm coming up, he's just a poor little hobbit, and I thought well, where's the harm so I just said look, if you stay in the Shire there's going to be an almighty row, but you might be needing to carry this ring to Rivendell, so here it is, now go to the Prancing Pony in Bree and await my word, and all, just do me a favor and don't let the Nazgul get you here."
He gave Saruman a worried grin.
"That was the best cause, wasn't it?"
"I'm not sure if you could have done anything stupider, hobbit weed or no," Saruman said sarcastically, lifting his staff and brandishing it menacingly at Gandalf.
"Oh, I do hope not," he said. "I really do hope that this may not prove to be one of the lighter matters," Gandalf said, before Saruman levitated him all the way to the top of Orthanc, after hitting him about a few times.
It was cold, wet and rainy up there, and Saruman came up to watch the rain for a while.
"Funny thing is," said Saruman, "I keep wondering if this whole Ruling Ring business was the point- I mean, Sauron seems really bent on getting his hands on it, and it winds up in the hands of a little hobbit from the Shire. I wonder if that whole palantir business was the smart thing to do."
The green meadow below was covered in crazed lines that glowed dimly in the miserable rain, the light of the furnaces below shining up the walls of the tower.
"Not really," said Gandalf, huddling against one of the stargazing pillars trying to keep out of the cold- Saruman wasn't quite known for his hospitality, come to think of it.
Saruman looked at the sky.
"No," he said, sobering up. "I suppose not."
Slate-black curtains tumbled over Isenguard. Thunder growled among the hills. The Uruk-Hai, freshly made, went about their usual business of lurking in the rain.
Far away near the Ford of Bruinen, a tiny gold trinket flickered momentarily among the wet trees. And then the screams of the Nazgul pierced the air.
It was going to be a dark and stormy night.
-Mel
quote:
Originally posted by CyanideBreathmint
The Uruk-Hai, freshly made, went about their usual business of lurking in the rain.
Frodos Wake
riverrun, past Galadriel and Celeborn's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Minas Tirith and Environs.
Sir Aragorn, violer d'amores, fr'over the short sea, had passencore rearrived from the North Kingdom on this side the scraggy isthmus of Middle Earth to wielderfight his penisolate war: nor had topgollum's rocks by the stream Anduin exaggerated themselse...
Ringballs: The Movie!
In a section of Earth very, very, very near the middle…
Uruk-hai: Dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink, dink....
Dark Sauron: [pulls off his eye] I can't see in this thing!
Dark Sauron: Who made that man an archer?
Archer: I did sir! He’s my cousin.
Dark Sauron: Who is he?
Col. Sarumanz: He’s a dork, sir.
Dark Sauron: I know that! What’s his name?
Col. Sarumanz: That is his name. Major de Orc.
Dark Sauron: And his cousin?
Col. Sarumanz: He’s a de Orc too, sir. Archer’s mate, first class, Philip de Orc.
Dark Sauron: How many dorks we got in this tower, anyhow?
[Orcs shout “Yo!”]
Dark Sauron: I knew it! I’m surrounded by dorks! Keep firing dorks!
Nazgul 1: What happened, where'd the she-elf go?
Nazgul 2: I don't know sir, she must have secret hyperjets on that horse!
Nazgul 1: What do we have on this thing, a cuisinart?
Elrond: Ok Frodo, welcome to real life. You want this Ring of Power? You carry it!
Frodo: Pick that up!
Elrond: YOU pick that up!
Dark Sauron: Now that I have my coffee, I'm ready to watch my radar. Where is it?
Col. Sarumanz: Here it is sir, Mr. Palantir.
Col Sarumanz: I have an idea! Orc! Get me a copy of Two Towers the movie!
Sauron: Have you found anything yet?
Nazgul: We ain't found shit!
Forget the Ring! The Ring is bupkiss. I found it in a cracker jack box. The Gollum is in you, Lone Frrodo! It's in you!
DARK SAURON: (imitating Frodo) No. No, please, leave
me alone. (mask down voice) No you are mine. (imitating Samwise) Not so fast, SAURON. (mask down voice) Samwise. (imitating Samwise) Yes, it's me. I'm here to save my girlfriend. Hi, honey. (mask down voice) Now you are going to die. (imitating Samwise) Oh, oh, ohhhh. (imitating Aragorn) Hey, what did you do to my friend? (mask down voice) The same thing I'm going to do to you, big boy. (imitating Gimli) Oh, ohhh. (mask down voice) And you too. (imitating Legolas) Oh, ohh. (mask down voice) Now, Princess Frodo, at last we are alone. (imitating Frodo) No, no, I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Leave me alone....yet, I find you strangely attractive. (mask down voice) Of course you do. Hobbit princesses are always attracted to money and power. And I have both, and you know it. (imitating Frodo) No, leave me alone. (mask down voice) No, kiss me. (imitating Frodo) No,
yes, no, yes, yes, no, no, ah, oh, oh, oh, ah, ohh, oh, you're eye is
so big.
Forget the Ring! The Ring is bupkiss. I found it in a cracker jack box. The Gollum is in you, Lone Frrodo! It's in you!
If you can read this, you don't speak Elvish.
Chasing Sauron
Just found this thread and thought it was interesting. I thought I'd contribute my own. I know it was done before, but I thought I'd attempt what I thought was a bit closer to Kevin Smith's actual style of writing.
CHASING SAURON
EXT. FIELD – DAY
FRODO and SAM are sitting, taking a breather from their long journey.
FRODO
No way. It would never happen!
SAM
Why not?
FRODO
Because Superman doesn’t swing that way. I think it’s a big point that in the history of DC comics, they’ve never made a “Supes is Gay” story.
SAM
Be that as it may, I think the creators of Smallville have decided to forego established comics continuity in favor of a more risqué relationship between Lex and Clark. I mean, Christ, it’s the new millennium. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
FRODO
How did I go from waxing intellectual about the merits of this foolhardy quest to discussing the very secret life of Clark and Lex?
Pippen and Silent Merry enter from behind rows of corn.
PIPPEN
(off FRODO)
Look at this confused motherfucker over here. What’s got your panties in a bunch, Charlie Brown?
FRODO
Oh great. Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber.
PIPPEN
(to Silent Merry)
Heh. He called you Dumb.
Later on…
INT. BALIN’S TOMB
A distant rumble can be heard over the sound of drums. FRODO pulls Sting partly out of its scabbard. Sting GLOWS blue, signalling that there are orcs nearby.
PIPPEN
(off Sting)
Like a motherfucking lightsaber and shit.
Suddenly, the door comes crashing down. A horde of orcs rush through. The fellowship run into the fray, swords slashing, Akira Kurosawa-style. The fight is broken when a roar is heard.
BOROMIR
Fuck. They’ve got a cave troll.
The CAVE TROLL breaks down what remains of the door. It swings its club furiously, knocking down fellowship members and orcs alike. Pippen runs and hides behind a rock. Silent Merry stands up in the face of the TROLL.
PIPPEN
Yeah, fatass, yeah!!! Take down that dirty troll like it was the Rancor, Skywalker-style!
----
That's all I have for now. Still thinking of other ideas. Input and criticism would be much appreciated.
Fronan and the ring of power, (with apologies to Robert E. Howard, and JRR…)
"And know O Prince that in the third age of Middle Earth there was a warrior that opposed the most powerful rulers of the lands, his name was Fronan, a barbarian from the Northern Shire…"
Fronan stood quietly in the shadows of the high rock wall. His barbarian senses told him something was out there, stalking him. His companions, three civilized hobbits, knew nothing of what his keen senses told him. Creeping in on them were five of the Nazgul, shadowy wraiths from Mordor. They were the remains of men, neither living, nor dead. Fronan had seen them before, but never fought them. This time would be different. The silent shadows were moving. Or was it the clouds and moon?
Suddenly, with blood curdling shrieks, they were on them! Five pale shadows flickering in the deeper darkness! Fronan, knowing they were outnumbered, reached in his pouch for the ring. It was supposed to be imbued with power, he would try to tap it. Slipping it on he suddenly could see with amazing clarity and he attacked the wraiths in a frenzied burst of swordplay, whirling though the melee, he reeled out of it with his armor in tatters and a wound in his shoulder. His companions were separated from him and he was on his own. Placing his back against a rock wall of granite, he asked through gritted teeth, "who dies first?"
Outlawmws
"Lord of the Rings" by Michael Crichton
"Lord of the Rings" by Michael Crichton (please forgive me if dates are inaccurate)
"So this is the great Ring of Power?" Frodo said.
"Certainly," Gandalf said. "Forged by the Dark Lord Levine Sauron, in the land of Mordor."
"Wow," Frodo said.
"Indeed," Gandalf said.
"But how does one make a ring of power?" Frodo said.
Gandalf shrugged. He was a tall, thin man, and he was prone to doing many things that tall, thin men stereotypically do, such as shrugging. "It's easy," he said with a thin smile. "Back in about 30s (Shire reckoning), the Necromancer had found an easy source of power: pouring one's evil will into a gold ring and unleashing his wrath upon his enemies. Only problem is that the elves and men fought back." Gandalf took a long, heavy drag from his pipe. He blinked, sat up. He coughed, crossed his legs. "Guy by the name if Isildur Barnes got a group of high-ranking Gondor officials and got that ring for his own. Only problem now is that it's 2 miles below the surface of the Anduin. And we're sending you down there with a crack team of specialists: an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, 2 men and some hobbits. But what worries me isn't that it's the One Ring; what worries me is that it may be 300 years old ..."
Only problem is, if Crichton wrote Lord of the Rings, he would have presold the movie rights, and we would have seen a film 2 months after it was published.
Novum Organum of the Ring by Francis Bacon
--
If a man were to go to Minas Tirith and look through the history of the world, they would be amazed at how many records would be contained within; however, as they read, they would be disheartened at the lack of progress that has been made over the centuries.
The Ring comes from the ancients, and let us first say that we hold no disrepsect to the actions of the ancients, for they certainly came first in the handling of the darkness of Middle Earth; however, there has arisen idols in the presence of men that keep a proper handling of the Ring from being done. To speak plainly, no correct judgment can be formed either by our method of or its discoveries by those anticipations which are now in common use.
The first idol is the idol of the tribe; these are present in all the races of Middle Earth, elf, human, dwarf, hobbit; they are inherent in the races' nature; for their senses are are falsely asserted to be the standard of things. The second is the idol of the hole in the ground; this idol is what encourages the races to hide in dens, caves, and trees as the Ring works its evil.
The third idol is the idol of the market, meaning the common misconceptions of each race held by the other as they refuse to cooperate against the Ring and Sauron. The fourth idol is the idol of the eye, with the large flames around the lidless ball that bears reference to man and not the universe.
Some men become attached to certain aspects of the Ring, either from supposing themselves the lords or kings of lands, or from having bestowed the greatest pains upon subjects, and thus becoming habituated to the Ring's power. If men of this description apply themselves to the Fellowship, they wrest and corrupt the group by their preconceived fancies, of which Sauron affords us a signal instance.
The Ring clouds the understanding; only through applications of the mind and experience can progress by made by the Ring Bearer. Induction is the true way towards Mount Doom!
(Sorry if it reads poorly. I mixed quotes from Bacon with LOTR references and this is the result. Hope you like it.)
Forgive the errors. It's late.
More Prattchet.
The ghost of Boromir made a face as it got up from the ground. Aragon had just left his side and had been a little to emotional for one mad to be toward another. It had put him off a bit.
“He kissed me!” He said, scrubbing the back of his hand against his forhead. “What kind of thing is that for one man to do to another!”
I THINK HE WAS SHOWING HIS AFFECTION IN THE DEEPEST WAY HE KNEW HOW.
The voice was as deep as the dark ocean and had undertones of tombs and long forgotten funeral dirges. Still, Boromir was in no state of mind to realy notice.
“Yeah, but he KISSED me!” He ranted. “there I am, half a dozen arrows the size of oak trees sticking out of me and all he can do is kiss me! Some King of Gondor he’s s’posed to be! What about all that about ‘Healing hands’ they kept on about? Did he think to even try and take an arrow out?”
HEALING HANDS IS ONE THING, Said Death. IN YOUR CASE, I DON’T THINK IT MATTERED MUCH.
Calming down a little, Boromir sighed. “Well, at least I’m out of that. Stupid quest anyway. Elron pro’bly swapped the One Ring for something out of his jewelry box back in Rivendell. I am dead now right?”
VERY. Death said, looking over Boromir corps. I’M REALY SURPRISED YOU LSATED AS LONG AS YOU DID. I COUNT AT LEAST FIVE MORTAL WOUNDS AND ONE THAT WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH YOUR SPLEEN!
“Alright, just to make sure.” Boromir took what would have been a deep breath is he still had lungs to breath, and let loose a torent of curses on Elves, Dwarves, hobbits and Rangers that could have peeled varnish off of a table top.
FEEL BETTER?
“Very.” Boromir smiled, his form starting to fade. “What happens now?”
THAT, Death said, IS UP TO YOU.
Fear and Loathing in Gondor - A Hunter Thompson parody
Fear and Loathing in Gondor
The fiends are nipping at our heels....war, children, is just a shot away....crazed fiends dine on flesh and bone....the trail beats on.....
We were somewhere around Emyn Muil at the edge of the mountains when the ring began to take hold.
It crept up my spine like first rising vibes of an acid frenzy. I saw a vision of one million fat greasebacking black-hooded fiends sucking into a football-shaped eyeball with a retina of pure hellfire. For some reason or another, it reminded me of C-SPAN.
And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of these cocksuckers, all swooping and screeching and diving around me. And a voice was screaming: "Good Eru! What are these goddamn pigfuckers!"
"As your guardian, I advise you to walk at top speed. It'll be a goddamn miracle if we can get to Mordor before you turn into a wild animal."
My 'guardian', Sam, was revealing himself to be the purple-blooded blowhard fatbody I had always suspected him of being. I decided internally to piss in his water bottle after he falls asleep. One more crazed, cynical comment like that and I'll sic the leeches on him.
Christ, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did he hear me?
"Jesus, look at your face," Sam said, "you're about to explode."
"Fuck you, you devious fat bastard!" I responded.
In an instant, I felt a giant brown turd fall out of the sky. The turd proceeded to attack me, reaching for the ring in an insistant rage. There is nothing so crazed and irresponsible as a man in the depths of a Ring binge.
I decided it was time for a reassessment of the entire situation. I pushed the manturd into my guardian and hid behind some rocks.
There was something utterly pathetic in the sight of that fat hobbit grappling with a manturd. For a moment, I felt I had done an awful thing; the experience must have been negative for Sam. Better not tell him about those goddamn wraiths, I thought. I stepped out from behind the rock. Perhaps some reason would stop this foul beast from his dirty work.
"Uh...look, we're trying to find Gondor...and maybe the American Dream. Would you like to travel with us?"
"Hot damn! I never traveled with a fatso before!" he responded.
I suddenly liked our new found companion.
"Is that right?" I said. "Well, I guess you're about ready, eh?"
The manturd nodded eagerly.
"We're your friends," said the fatbody. "We're not like the others."
And that settled the matter about the ring. The manturd, as I later learned, was named Golum. He was a swinish pervert with a knack for sadomasochism and a foot fetish. Either way, the three of us beat on the unkept path. I felt like a monster reincarnation of Bilbo Baggins .... a Man on the Move, and just sick enough to be totally confident.
I haven't read the whole thread yet, but could someone PLEASE do a Conan Doyle/Sherlock Holmes version??? OR a Marx and Engels one, a la The Capital???
The Wizard of Middle Earth
(Based mainly on the movies, alas... Works better this way)
As the remains of the fellowship stands in front of Gandalf, after the ring was destroyed...
Gimli: "I want a sense of humor!"
Gangalf: "You can't "have" a sense of humor! There is only one sure way to make the audience laugh- Slapstick!"
By that, Gangalf rasies Gimli and toses him back to Moria. The audience is LOLing.
Legolas: "I want love!"
Gandalf: "Love will come by itself. For the time being, you'll have the next best thing."
Gandalf is raising his hand, and suddenly Legolas is clad in leather clothes. Another raise of Gandalf's hand, and Legolas disspapears... Only to reapear in a gay bar in happy hour.
Aragorn: "I want a brain!"
Gandalf: "It is not the brain that makes you smart. It is your look that makes people THINK you're smart"
Gandalf gives Aragorn a shaving machine. Aragorn gets rid of the stubble that was on his face for the last two years. Arwen leaves him immidietly. Aragorn is now scheduled to present the head actor award in the Oscar ceremony.
Frodo: "I want acting skills!"
Gandalf: "Wait a second! I may be a wizard, but there are things that even I can't do!"
---
"The Wizard of Middle Earth", written by L. Frank Baum and adapted to movies by Victor Fleming
quote:
Originally posted by Qadgop the Mercotan
31,000 views? Holy Schlamoley! Is that a record?
This is a call for:
Red Dwarf,
Livejournal,
and Jack Kerouac
parodies.
Legolas and Boromir Are Dead
B: Is that you?
L: Here?
B: Where else?
L: What’s the matter with you?
L: We’ve been following him around since Elrond, and what have we learned? He has the One Ring of Power, thrust upon him by family and friends, along with the rest of us called upon to put his life before ours, including a wizard to deal with the occasional Balrog. An opportunity to get out of Hobbiton, see a bit of the Middle World, and the ability to become invisible when necessary, and how is he? Depressed.
B: When the wind is southerly.
quote:
Originally posted by gex gex
This is a call for: Livejournal parodies.
quote:
Originally posted by Avalonian
I'm afraid someone already beat us to the LiveJournal version: The Secret Diaires
I don't think that can be topped.
Still not King. Heh.
If LOTR had been written by someone else?!
If LotR had been written by Kipling:
You may talk o' ale and lembas
And the nine Fellowship members
When you're sittin' in the Prancing Pony's wing
But if it comes to questin'
The story that goes best in
Is of Nine-fingered Frodo and the Ring!
For it's Ring! Ring! Ring!
He's packed his bags and buckled on his Sting
He's gone to Orodruin
And cast the Ring to ruin
Thus helping in the Return of the King.
Now in the sweet Shire land
In his hole beneath the sand
A wizard came to pay Frodo a call
He said, "Beware of Sauron
And his One Ring that you've got on,
If he gets it, then all Middle-Earth will fall."
Frodo said, "I'm just a hobbit!
Why pick on me to lob it
Into the Cracks of Doom 'way down in Mordor?
The Nazgul'll be pursuin'
As that Gollum will be doin'
Before I can even sneak across the border!"
Said Gandalf, "Ring! Ring! Ring!
You must go forth and get rid of this thing!"
Frodo said, "Oh, what the Hell?"
And set off for Rivendell
With Sam, Merry, and Pippin in his string.
Hmmm...what rhymes with "Precious"? Anybody care to take it from here?
lastin
A hobbit of very little brain
Once upon a time, in a hole in the ground, on the other side of the Hundred-Acre Mirkwood, there lived a hobbit of very little brain.
And so it was that Christopher Gandalf came to Frodo's door and lightly dinged the brass bell with his staff.
"Bother," said Frodo, whose hands were covered in sticky honey. "Come in," he called to the door.
Christopher Gandalf did as he was bidden and when he saw the sight that was Frodo, his arms and face covered in sticky, gooey, honey, he could hardly hold back a laugh. "Oh, Frodo, you silly old hobbit."
The Lord of the Rings
by A. A. Milne
Confessions of a Hooker: My Lifelong Love Affair With Golf
by Meriadoc (Merry) Brandybuck (not Bob Hope at all)
...so we found ourselves, with the light fading, at Weathertop, one honey of a course, but a tough one for a guy who favors his driver. The Ranger was all in and went for a snooze, so the four of us decided to go Best Ball while we could still see, when suddenly....
Trups of Khjazad-Dum, by Roger Zelazny
It was quite a battle. The balrog was big, and it was nasty. It reminded me of Dad's old friend Sigmund, who used to tell me that if I didn't deal with my family issues, some big nasty monster would come up and bite me on the ass. Which it was presently doing.
On this particular shadow, they call me Gandalf, or sometimes Mithrandir, or sometimes Olorin. Which is close enough to the truth, anyway. This isn't my favorite place to be, it's no club med, but Random needed help, something about a ring that one of my uncles made. Once again, I should have paid attention to all those things that Dworkin used to talk about.
So now I'm here, falling and slashing at a fire monster. I've caught up with Greyswandir, which has another name on this shadow. Why Dad's sword happened to appear in this shadow, I'm not sure. It's been a long time since he's made a showing...I can only wonder if he's going to appear, sometime soon. The sword has a habit of glowing when the minions of chaos are around. I suppose that if I wanted to make it glow, I could change into Chaos form myself, but somehow it would lessen the dramatic tension.
I keep falling, and wondering just how far this shaft goes. The endless drop is giving me time to ponder about about the other Sorcerers who happen to be in this shadow.
Saruman, I trust you like a brother, which is to say, not at all. You'd fit right in with the Amberites, right down to locking your friends and associates in towers. You need to work on controlling that crystal ball of yours...someone fromDad's family has been leaving trinkets behind. Must have been Brand. He's the kind of guy that would dig this shadow.
Radagast, your too good for all these people. Glad you got away....
Alatar and Pallando, I don't know you but good luck anyway...
With a clang, Greyswandir scores on the monster, but it doesn't appear to be phased, although it does appear to have a skin condition that would make dollar signs flash in the eyes of a Mary Kay cosmetician. I think Fido here needs more than a little moisturizer.
Right about now, I'm wishing I had some trumps. I could sure use a back door right about now, and Fido is trying to gouge my eyes out, only his hands are way too big, so it's more like he's trying to squeeze my head in one of those toy soldier nutcrackers they like so much in Europe on that shadow Earth we spend so much time on.
I try to work shadow as I fall.
visions of sugar plum faries dance through my head....
a glint of silver beyond that crag coming up...
a cave beyond that band of minerals...
My head hurt, and to no avail. Someone wants me to stay here, some one with great power, and the question is, who.
The other question still banging around my head is, who sent the Fire Demon. I'm guessing it must be someone from Mom's side. I'm guessing the same person, but I could be wrong.
The demon disengages as we fall....
There's a big pool of water coming up...crap. Just what I need, roasted like a pig by someone's - I shall call him X - by X'shormonally challenged thug, and now I'm going to be drowned, if I survive the impact. Hitting water at terminal velocity is pretty much the same thing as hitting concrete. I use the Logrus now to try and pull something useful out of the air. I call for a parachute, and get a large patchwork of skins, about parachute size. It'll have to do.
I slow down enough to enter the water at a speed that won't reduce my to hamburger. Only it's not really water, because I seem to be able to breathe, and there's a stairway, going down. It goes up too, but given that X's lapdog is trying to keep my from going down any further, my curiosity is getting the better of me. I continue on down, Fido in hot pursuit.
We reach a chamber, and strangely Fido rushes past me into the chamber. He is standing between me and what appears to be the Pattern of Amber...Only not the pattern of Amber. It's incomplete, it has holes. Greyswandir drags me closer to the starting point, as if of its own accord, and now I notice that Fido is desperately trying to stop me from going anywhere near the broken pattern.
It's now that I realize that Fido and I are not alone. In the center of the pattern, prostrate on her back as if asleep, lies Galadriel.
And would you guess what the Pattern wants me to do?
Here's another one:
If LotR had been written by Samuel Beckett
A Shire road.
A tree.
Evening.
MERIADOC: Charming spot. Inspiring prospects. (He turns to Peregrin.) Let's go.
PEREGRIN: We can't.
MERIADOC: Why not?
PEREGRIN: We're waiting for Frodo.
MERIADOC: (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You're sure it was here?
PEREGRIN: What?
MERIADOC: That we were to wait.
PEREGRIN: He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you see any others?
MERIADOC: What is it?
PEREGRIN: I don't know. Old Man Willow?
MERIADOC: Where are the leaves?
PEREGRIN: It must be dead.
MERIADOC: No more weeping.
PEREGRIN: Or perhaps it's not the season.
MERIADOC: Looks to me more like an Ent.
PEREGRIN: A Huorn.
MERIADOC: An Ent.
PEREGRIN: A-. What are you insinuating? That we've come to the wrong place?
MERIADOC: He should be here.
PEREGRIN: He didn't say for sure he'd come.
MERIADOC: And if he doesn't come?
PEREGRIN: We'll come back tomorrow.
MERIADOC: And then the day after tomorrow.
PEREGRIN: Possibly.
MERIADOC: And so on.
quote:
Originally posted by Serai
Ragsdale, loved your e.e.cummings! One thing though: e.e. never uses capital letters. You might want to change that.
quote:
Originally posted by Rickhavoc
Legolas and Boromir Are Dead
B: Is that you?
L: Here?
B: Where else?
L: What’s the matter with you?
L: We’ve been following him around since Elrond, and what have we learned? He has the One Ring of Power, thrust upon him by family and friends, along with the rest of us called upon to put his life before ours, including a wizard to deal with the occasional Balrog. An opportunity to get out of Hobbiton, see a bit of the Middle World, and the ability to become invisible when necessary, and how is he? Depressed.
B: When the wind is southerly.
quote:
Originally posted by Limmenel
I don't think anyone has done this yet, but I saw a suggestion for it.
Shakespeare's Hamlet:
To destroy, or not to destroy: that is the question:
...
Arg... I tried. I don't think I even did it justice though. Someone please re-do this and do a better job at it.
~Aya~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/limmenel
http://envisioning.cjb.net
Frodian Rhapsody
*With apologies to the late Freddy Mecury and Queen. Here is the first half. I'm too tired to finish the rest today. I'll see if I can get it posted tomorrow unless someone wants to finish it...
------------
Is this the One Ring?
Is this just fantasy?
Just formed a Fellowship
No escape from prophecy
Open your eyes
Look up in the skies and see
I’m just a dwarf, don’t need any sympathy
There’s Legolas with his bow
Aragorn brooding more
Anywhere the Ring goes, the Nazgul will be searching, for me
Frodo, just killed an orc
Put a dagger against his head
One thrust and now he’s dead
Frodo, you are the One
But the Ring is such heavy weight
Frodo, ooo
You very nearly died
That cave troll gave us cause for sorrow
Moria, Moria, we really shouldn’t be here
Too late, balrog has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Gandalf’s shouting out a rhyme
Goodbye everybody – I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind, so save the world
Frodo, ooo – (anywhere the Ring goes)
I just want to cry
I sometimes wish Bilbo had never fallen at all
quote:
Originally posted by Epigramcracker
Hi! I did a Hamlet version--it's on page 6 if you want to read it! i loved yours though XD! mine's rather different though--Piplet, Price of Tookmark if you will. (;
-epigramcracker
While I liked that earlier e.e. cummings version, it wasn't the type of e.e. cummings poem I wanted to see -- maybe just a matter of different periods in his work. This one bubbled around in my brain until I let it write itself down.
precious) downward
my) the heat rises
O) the mountain rises
like a mouth the earth
swallows
greedily
a finger without its hand
a body without its soul
an evil without its power
bright sun on us both)
remembering(
bobbing forth and back)
my birthday(
he was greedy like the earth)
one life begins(
one life ends)
river like a mouth, cold, hot
ring like a mouth, devouring
consumed i must consume
(Sméagol?)
the ring (O
and the body (my
are consumed (precious
Blues Hobbits
"It's 200 miles to Mount Doom, we've got a full pack of lembas, no pipe-weed, it's dark and we're wearing elf-cloaks."
__________________
Ceterum Censeo Barad-Dûrum Esse Delendam.
By the author of CASEY AT THE BAT:
It looked extremely rocky for the Moria nine that day;
The orcs were hot upon their trail, a chasm barred the way.
Though Aragorn had drawn his sword and Frodo pulled out Sting,
Still a pallor wreathed the features of the bearers of the Ring.
Upon the stricken Company a deathlike silence fell;
The Balrog burst across the flames like something sent from Hell.
A fiery mane streamed backward from his bony eyebrow ridge -
But Gandalf, mighty Gandalf, was advancing to the bridge!
The Men ran back to lend support, the Hobbits raised a cheer,
And Legolas and Gimli felt a lightening of their fear.
To all, the Balrog seemed but just a pesky little midge -
They'd put up even money now, with Gandalf at the bridge!
And now the wizard lifts his staff, and now he lets it go,
And now the bridge is shattered by the force of Gandalf's blow.
The Balrog fell adown the deep, with fiery whistling breeze,
But as he fell, his curling whip caught Gandalf by the knees.
Oh, somewhere else in Middle-earth the sun is shining bright,
And somewhere elves are plinking harps, and somewhere hearts are light.
And somewhere dwarves are singing songs, and hobbit-children shout -
But there is no joy in Moria; mighty Gandalf has struck out.
The Great Gollumsby, By F. Scott Tolkein
In my younger and more vulnerable years my uncle’s friend Gandalf gave me a ring that I’ve been turning over in my hand ever since.
“Whenever you feel like giving up,” He told me, “Just remember that all the people in this world aren’t as able to resist its power as you are.”
(Pages of observation and acquiantance-making. Proceed to very obvious references to T.S. Eliott’s poetry.)
About halfway between The Shire and Mordor, the road hastily joins a another, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of marshes.
But above the gray land and spasms of murky water, you perceive, after a moment, the eye of a Dark Lord Sauron. The eye of Sauron is red and gigantic. It looks out of no face, but, instead, a huge tower. Evidently put there to scare the crap out of me everytime I stick that ring on my finger.
(Again, later.)
“We feel far away from Precious,” Gollumsby said. He wanted nothing less of the Ring that it jump from the chain around my neck and return to him. After it had, he could obliterate years of lisping melodramatically in his cave. “It doesn’t understand. It used to be able to understand. We’d sit for hours—”
He broke off, stumbling around the weedy growth of the marshes.
“We’s going to fix everything just the way it was before,” he said, nodding determinedly. “It’ll see.”
He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself, something that he had lost along with the Ring.
Samuel R Delany
The door to Bag End deliquesced, and the derelict lurched into the hall.
He was an old man. He was a strong man. Must be Gandalf, Frodo thought. Dresses like Gandalf, grey robed, a rope holding up his torn grey pants. And his eyes. (Orcs' eyes?).
"You , boy. Are you Frodo Baggins?"
Frodo fingered the dirt between his hairy toes. Wanting to say "no" he began a "yes".
The codger flapped out a hand (a sack of magic-ruined knuckles) and caught a chair. "We were moving out, boy, the lights of Minas Tirith like a puddle of molten mithril on our left, the black of Mordor on our right. We'd turned off the palantir so we were flying blind. Then, centred on the dark, an Eye! It reached out, brighter than the elven-glass of Galadriel, grabbed our attention so we couldn't look away."
Frodo got the words ready in his mouth, excuse me, huh? I gotta go.
Gandalf coughed, spat red. "The Eye was Sauron's. He took us this close" - his thumb brushed his forefinger (nail bitten to the quick) - "this close" - to Mount Doom. You can damn him, and damn the One Ring for that, boy, whoever you are!"
From the King James Version of the Lord of the Rings
v. 14. Verily, verily I say onto you, he that doth bear this ring in his own name has no part of me, and shall be cast off from the house of the Elven Lord, and there shall be much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
15. But he that doth bear this ring for the sake of others, even unto his own despair, unto he shall be given great esteem, and shall not be subject unto my everlasting vexation, but shall dwell in the halls of Valinor forever.
16. And Gandalf said onto them, Fear not, for behold, I bring you glad tidings, which shall be to all Elves.
17. For unto us is come this day, in the Refuge of Imladris, a savior, which is Frodo Baggins.
18. And this shall be a sign unto you, ye shall find the hobbit with three brethen, led through the wilderness of one Aragorn son of Arathorn, lying in a bier.
19. And all the Elves hearkened unto his voice and were pleased. And unto Glorfindal was given great burdens, to forsake the comforts of Imladris, which in translation is Rivendell, and to seek the hobbits in the wilderness.
20. And behold, Meriadoc, son of Seradoc, and Peregrin, son of Paladin, and Samwise (which is he who would be called Gardener) son of Hamfast, went forth, bereft of hope and joy, to seek some happy gospel as bequethed them by Aragorn (he who would be King of both Arnor and Gondor, and ruler of the same) known as kingsfoil, which in the Elvish tongue was athelas.
21. (For Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was wise in the craft of the wilderness dwellers, and lore of the ancient Numernoreans). Amen.
William Carlos Williams anyone?
This Is Just To Say
I have taken
the ring
that was on
your chain
and which
you were probably
trying
to destroy.
Forgive me
it was my precious
so bright
and so gold.
-Love Gollum
okay--giving credit where credit is due--this one comes from my rockin sister!! it's pretty darn brilliant if i do say so myself. and... pretty darn BRITNEY! haha. yeah, so get ready for
Gollum's serenade to his precious:
Slave 4 U
All you hobbits look at me like I’m a little freak.
Well did you ever think that it’s the ring that’s makin’ me so weak?
Always saying little freak don’t try and run and hide.
Well I’m just tryin’ to free myself from the villain deep inside
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOO!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOOO!)(Do you want it?)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOOOO!)(You know want it!)
I know I may come off tricksy, I may come off sly.
But I feel like singing, feel like dancing when the ring catches my eye.
What I want’s what I can’t have. What the hell, who cares?
All I know is I’m so happy when I see it shining there.
I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.
I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it; I’m only trying to hide it.
Precious, don’t you wanna, come back to me,
To another time and place.
Precious, don’t you wanna, come back to me
Leaving behind my name, my face.
(Lets go!)
(Like that)
(You like it)
(Now come to me!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOO!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOOO!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOOOO!)
[Panting]
I really wanna own you for myself,
(Wanna see you on me)
I really wanna do what you want me to.
(Uh Uh Uh)
Precious, don’t you wanna, come back to me,
To another time and place.
Precious, don’t you wanna, come back to me
Leaving behind my name, my face.
(Lets go!)
I’m a slave for you. (Take it!) I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.
I’m a slave (It just feels right) for you. (It just feels good)
I won’t deny it; I’m not trying to hide it. (Precious!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOO!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOO!)
Get it get it, get it get it (NOOOO!)
[Panting]
I’m a slave for you. (Here we go now)
I cannot hold it; I cannot control it.
I’m a slave for you. (Here we go) I won’t deny it, (Yessssss!)
I’m not trying to hide it.
(Want that!)
The Unfortunate Hobbits by Edward Gorey
Atop the hill from old Bag End,
Wandered a hobbit and his friend;
They've left with a ring,
They've gone with a sting,
A fellowship they must attend.
On Weathertop Frodo's remark,
'I wish that I did not embark',
Was met with alarm,
Which led to his harm,
He was pierced by a knife in the dark.
We decided to greet Durin's Bane,
But the Balrog failed to entertain;
He implored us to sit
By the edge of a pit;
Our guide fell and came not back again.
The world fell into a decline,
For the past all the creatures did pine;
In the fog of the gloom
We trudged to Mount Doom,
Our foes could do nothing but whine.
In the fire the ring burned and broke,
And we saw that our quest was a joke;
Our race is now ending,
So why keep pretending?
Our laughs echoed up through the smoke.
quote:
And would you guess what the Pattern wants me to do?
quote:
Originally posted by dharma traveller
By the author of CASEY AT THE BAT:
Epigramcracker, the William Carlos Williams one was absolutely brilliant. Kudos.
Sonnets from the Elvish, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
43
An Ode to a Ring
How do I loves theeeeee....? Letssss Gollum count the wayssss...
I loves theeee to the deeps and breadths and heights
Gollum's soul can reach, when feeeeeling out of sight
For the endsss of Beeeeings and ideal Grace.
I loves theeeee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by nasssty Sun and candle lightsss.
I loves theeee freely, as men strive for Right;
I loves theeee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I loves theeee with the passion put to use
In my old griefsss, and with my childhood's faith.
I loves theeee with a love I seeeeemed to loooose
With my lost saintsss - I loves theeeee with the breathsss,
Smilesss, tearsss, of all Gollum's life! - and, if Master chooses,
I shall but loves theeee better after death...my precioussss...
Apocalypse Vow
– A Francis Ford Coppola adaptation of Lord of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad
Weathertop, I was still at Weathertop. It’s been weeks now, on the mission, and every minute Sauron gets stronger and The Ring feels heavier. I wish every day this ring had never come to me. I was going to the worst place in Middle Earth, and I didn’t even know it yet, up the River Anduin and through the wretched swamps directly into Sauron’s lair. It was by no accident that I got to be the caretaker of Sauron’s manifestation. There is no way to tell its story without telling my own.
My mission was to proceed up the River Anduin, pick up Sauron’s trail in Mordor, follow it, and find Mount Doom, The Ring’s birthplace, infiltrate it, and terminate the Ring’s power, with extreme prejudice.
[much later … ]
The more I got to know the Ring, the more I admired it. I was at the far reaches of Middle Earth. It was devoid of life, a place of decay and melancholy, as if all living things had forsaken it. He is dead, thought I about Sauron as I toyed with the ring--wondering whether I had been striving against someone completely without substance, or whether his substance truly did manifest itself in The Ring. Sauron discoursed, a subliminal voice, “We must appear in the nature of supernatural beings—with the might of a deity—we can exert all of our will and all of our power upon them for might, and great things unbounded.” The eloquence covered the malice of his dark dark ring. The wastes of my weary brain were haunted by wraith-ish images, obsessively revolving around this ring of noble expression. A burning eye … he was very little more than a burning eye glaring out from an impenetrable darkness. I began seeing very clearly what needed to be done … but had difficulty thinking clearly enough to be able to do it. I am beyond caring. The Horror.
This thread is great!
My apologies if this has been done already...
Whose swamp this is, I think I know
He lives up in that tower though
I hope he doesn’t see me here
To watch his marshes all aglow.
My Sam and I have much to fear
Especially with Gollum here
He wants my pretty ring to take
But promises to lead us near.
“A bad plan, Frodo, and no mistake”
Says Sam, “it’s not the path I’d take.
All Gollum does is whine and weep
And I don’t trust the little fake.”
This swamp is smelly, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
quote:
Originally posted by girlonthewing
Epigramcracker, the William Carlos Williams one was absolutely brilliant. Kudos.
"You know there isn't going to be any war," said Arwen, bored. "It's all just talk. Why, Glorfindel told Pa just last week that our commissioners in Minas Morgul would come to---to---an----amicable agreement with Mr. Sauron about the West. And, anyway, the Nazgul are too scared of us to fight. There won't be any war, and I'm tired of hearing about it."
"Not going to be any war!" cried the two Elves indignantly, as though they had been defrauded.
"Why, honey, of course there's going to be a war," said Legolas. "The Nazgul may be scared of us, but after Aragorn gave them a whipping day before yesterday up on Weathertop, they'll have to fight or stand branded as cowards before the whole world. Why, the Council----"
Arwen made a mouth of bored impatience.
"If you say 'war' just once more, I'll go in the house and shut the door. I've never gotten so tired of any one word in my life as 'war', unless it's 'Ring.' Pa talks war morning, noon, and night, and all the gentlemen who come to see him shout about the One Ring and the spreading darkness and Sauron till I get so bored I could just scream! And that's all the boys talk about too, that and their old Fellowship. There hasn't been any fun at any party this spring because the boys can't talk about anything else. If you say 'war' again I'll go in the house."
--<i>Gone With the Ring</i> by Margaret Mitchell
YES! I'M JUST IN TIME!!
Okay, guys, here we go. Seasonal and everything. I give you:
The Night Before Christmas, LOTR Style
’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Shire
Not a hobbit was stirring, save one, near a fire.
A tension he felt growing strong in the air,
And suddenly Gandalf was standing right there!
The wizard looked scared, like he’d just seen a wraith,
But he said, “Is it secret?” and then “Is it safe??”
And Frodo, attending with much less than glee,
Pulled out Bilbo’s ring for the wizard to see.
Gandalf ran to the fire, his purpose pursuing;
As he threw in the ring Frodo cried, “What you doing?”
But Gandalf ignored him, for he was no fool;
He pulled it right out and said, “Here, it’s quite cool!”
Outside on the lawn Sam was trimming the verge,
But to eavesdrop on Gandalf he soon felt the urge,
But what to his listening ears did unfurl,
But a plan laid by Sauron to take over the world!
Inside the old Wizard explained to young Frodo
That the terrible ring was a definite no go.
Some words had formed on it in quite a short time,
And Gandalf to Frodo repeated this rhyme:
“Now One Ring! To rule them!
Now One Ring! To find them!
Now One Ring! To bring them!
And in darkness bind them!
In the dark land of Mordor
Where the black shadows lie,
It is there you must go!
It is there you must fly!”
Frodo looked on in horror—was not the ring safe?
They could hide it right here with none knowing its place!
But Gandalf said old Gollum’s tongue had been waggin’—
He’d said only two words; they were “Shire” and “Baggins!”
Little Frodo did know as he stood there in pain,
There were Nazgul abroad cutting hobbits in twain!
He tried his Plan B: Gandalf should take the ring!
But the wizard refused the abominable thing.
So our hero had only one thing left to do.
He must “Leave, and leave quickly” ere Black Riders got through!
A bundle of food he flung onto his back,
And the ring, to keep safe, in his pocket he packed.
His eyes—how they blinked! He was nervous for sure.
The quest would be deadly, and the ring’s taint, impure.
All at once his heart jumped as a clunk came outside—
Gandalf pulled in old Sam, saying “I’ll tan your hide!”
Samwise stammered and stuttered and made comic quips,
But the wizard looked wary and pursed his old lips.
So for spying, young Gamgee got a fate worse than death—
He must ditch his dear garden and come on the quest!
Though quite chubby and plump, with a love for things Elf,
Samwise gulped with suspicion in spite of himself.
And as Gandalf rode off, he looked straight on ahead,
With a look that said, “Yeah. Well, I’d rather be dead.”
He and Frodo spoke not but went straight to their work,
Bringing Merry and Pippin along as a perk.
But a wraith found their trail, and, unable to tarry,
They took off like a shot for old Buckleberry Ferry!
They ran and they ran, leaving Frodo for last,
And he flew off the dock for the ferry right fast,
And I heard him exclaim as they rowed out of sight,
“Some Christmas this is! Gandalf’s presents sure bite!”
Epigramcracker that was great!
Also from page 6, Fealuinix, I loved loved the Hitchhikers guide version!
I hope no one's done Steinbeck...
The Ring of Wrath
The earth was cracked and dry. The sort of dry that only appears in tilled earth at the end of a harsh summer. A turtle slowly began its climb out of the ditch to reach the packed-earth road. The turtle hesitated at the brink of the road. Uncertain as to whether the time was ripe to cross. Hearing a thundering in the distance it decided that this was it’s last chance. It slowly began it’s long trek across the dusty cracked earth, the hot sun beating upon its hard shell. The thunder got closer. Halfway across the road the turtle retreated into its shell. Horses clattered overhead. The hooves of the Ring Wraiths mounts unsettled the dust. The red dust. The dry choking dust. And then they were gone. Leaving only the dust. The turtle waited to ensure safety before slowly emerging from the shell. Eventually it began to move once more, continuing its toilsome journey through the dust and over the cracked earth. The light patter of hobbit steps forced it into its shell once more. The heavier set of the two leaned down and picked up the turtle. It would make a good gift for Rosie.
IRON CHEF – LEMBAS BATTLE
"If memory serves me correct, today’s challenger, the wraith who appeased Sauron’s palate first trained in the trades of Angmar. He later gained more experience in the fiery kitchens of Orthanc. At the age of several thousand, he opened his own restaurant at Minas Morgul. He specializes in the melding of exotic cuisine with spells and is considered one of Orthanc’s finest Mordor-ese chefs."
Commentator Glorfindel, “Who imagined there was of Chef of Mordor cuisine … this man’s food … someone to closely watch … let’s bring him on … the Witchking of Angmar.”
Commentator Glorfindel, “I hear you handle yourself quite well in the kitchen.” Wraith replies, “[bloodcurdling screech]”
Okay, let’s bring on Chairman Elrond.
Elrond, “Welcome to my kitchen stadium. And now … the pride of my gourmet academy … 3 iron chefs … I summon Iron Chefs!”
Iron Chef Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire
Iron Chef Elvish, Haldir, of Lorien
Iron Chef Dwarvish, Gimli
Witchking chooses, “Shire … Baggins.”
Commentator Glorfindel, “Born in Hobbiton, Iron Chef Bilbo Baggins trained in the epicurean kitchens of Bag End before moving to Rivendell at the age of eleventy-one. He is known for his long-awaited parties of Hobbit cuisine. It is said no one leaves hungry.”
Now chairman Elrond unveils the main ingredient … Lembas!
“Allez cuisine!”
Commentator Glorfindel, “Of this luxurious ingredient, it is said one bite can fill a grown man’s stomach.”
“It appears Bilbo is first up to the stand, and he appears to be sampling the theme ingredient already. This lembas is a special treat … what dishes first come to mind?”
Taster Arwen, “Lembas goes well with everything, it has such a sweet flavor … I would like to see it in a soup or something.”
“Fukui-san … the Hobbit says he will take this into consideration and plans to mix it with a nice healthy elven wine.”
Arwen, “[giggles]”
“And what about you, Aragorn?”
“Something good for the road.”
Commentator Glorfindel, “It will be interesting to watch the Witchking, because lembas is not traditionally used in Mordor-ese cooking.”
“One minute to go”
“Time is done, the lembas battle is over!”
Challenger Witchking is offering 2 dishes:
- Filet of Fell Beast topped with a Lembas-crumb crust
- Scorched Malice Cake Flambe – in the shape of Orthanc, with a ring of fire around it
Iron Chef Hobbit is offering 5 dishes:
- Ranger Ploughman’s lunch w/ Dichon Radish
- Elven-Wine-Onion soup served in a lembas breadbowl, perfectly complimenting each other
- Lembas Pitas, filled with Pork and Benito Shavings, accentuated by Hobbit-pipe infused smoke
- Lembas Stuffing, with mushrooms, truffle oil, and nice crispy bacon
- Lembas Bread Pudding, a simple way to end the meal
Panel of tasters:
Wizard: Gandalf
She-elf: Arwen
Gardener: Sam Gamgee
Ranger: Aragorn
Who’s cuisine will reign supreme?
From the Muppets to the 15th century...
Le Morte D'Aragorn
by Sir Thomas Malory
It befell in the days of Denethor, when he was steward of all Gondor, that there was a mighty Power in Mordor that held war against him long time. And the Power was called the Dark Lord Sauron. And so by means Denethor sent for his Palantir, and he strove with the Dark Lord.
In the meanwhile came in a good old man, and an ancient, clothed all in white, and there was no one knew whence he came. And with him he brought a young Ranger, both on foot, without sword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side.
Then the old man said unto Denethor, 'Sir, I bring here a young Ranger, the which is of kings' lineage, and of the kindred of Elendil of Numenor, whereby the marvels of this city, and of strange realms, shall be fully accomplished.'
"Dammit Aragorn, I'm a dwarf, not a marathon runner."
"That much is obvious, Gimli, or the Captain and I would not have been waiting here for you to arrive."
"Why, you blond-haired, pointy-eared Elf --"
"That's enough, both of you. Somewhere -- out there -- is a band of Uruk-hai that's holding two of our friends, and I intend to find them. Gimli, you'll just have to run faster. Let's move."
"If dwarves were meant for running, we'd have been born with longer legs."
"For once, Gimli, your logic is impeccable."
Lord of the Ringo
LORD OF THE RINGO
58. INTERIOR A PUB IN THE SHIRE
The canteen is about half full of hobbits busy eating and smoking pipes. At a table sits GANDALF and FRODO. FRODO is deeply engrossed in a book titled “There and Back Again” and GANDALF has a near empty cup of tea in front of him. The old man is bored and looks about him slyly. He then looks at Frodo who is innocently occupied, a malicious gleam comes into GANDALF's eye. He decides to have a go at FRODO and sits staring at him. FRODO gradually becomes aware of the stare and shifts uncomfortably then tries to continue reading his book.
GANDALF
(disgustedly to no one in Particular)
Will you ever look at him, sitting there with
his hobbit hooter scraping away at that book!
FRODO
Well ... what's the matter with that?
GANDALF
(taking the book from him)
Have you no natural resources of your own? Have
they even robbed you of that?
FRODO
(snatching back his book)
You can learn from books.
GANDALF
Can you now? Aah ... orcs heads! You learn
more by getting out there and living.
FRODO
Out where?
GANDALF
Out there! Middle Earth... but not our little Baggins
... oh no! When you're not running around with the
Tooks and the Brandybucks, you're tormenting your eyes with that rubbish!
FRODO
(defiantly)
Books are good!
GANDALF
(countering)
Adventuring’s better!
FRODO
Adventuring?
GANDALF
(marching up and down in place)
That's it, adventuring around the countryside... trailing your coat ... bowling along ... living!
FRODO
Well, I am living, aren't I?
GANDALF
You're living, are you? When was the last time
you gave a shield maiden a pink-edged daisy?
When did you last embarrass elf lass with your cool
appraising stare?
FRODO
Eh ... you're a bit old for that sort of chat,
aren't you?
GANDALF
At least I've a backlog of memories, but all
you've got is that book!
FRODO
Aaah ... stop picking on me... you're as bad as
the rest of them.
GANDALF
So you are a hobbit grown after all.
FRODO
What's that mean?
GANDALF
Do you think I haven't noticed ... do you think
I wasn't aware of the drift? Oh ... you poor
unfortunate scuff, they've driven you into
books by their cruel, unnatural treatment,
exploiting your good nature.
FRODO
(not too sure)
Oh ... I dunno.
GANDALF
(confidingly)
And that lot's never happier than when they're
jeering at you ... and where would they be
without the steady support of your stout little heart,
I'd like to know.
FRODO
Yeah ... that's right.
GANDALF
And what's it all come to in the end?
FRODO
(defensively)
Yeah ... what's in it for me?
GANDALF
A book!
FRODO
Yeah ... a bloomin' book!
He throws the book down.
GANDALF
When you could be out there betraying a rich
Gondorian widow or sipping elf wine in Lothlorien
before you're too old like me. A fine neat and
trim lad the class of you should be helping
himself to life's goodies before the sands run
out. Being an old wizard's a terrible
drag on a man and every second you waste is
bringing you nearer the Friday queue at the
Prancing Pony.
FRODO
Yeah ... funny really, 'cos I'd never thought
of it but being middle-aged and old takes up
most of your time, doesn't it?
GANDALF
(nodding)
You're only right.
FRODO
(nodding back)
I'm not wrong.
There is a pause, then FRODO rises and crosses to the door.
GANDALF
Where are you off to?
FRODO
I'm going adventuring before it's too late!
FRODO leaves and GANDALF laughs at what he has done, then realizes its full meaning and looks worried.
Oops -- that above piece might only be understandable to A Hard Day's Night fans and it definitely pales in comparison to most of the others.
The musical version
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard of Isengard
He’s wise, he’s strong, yet sometimes wrong
And frankly a bit retard
He seeks the Ring, it’s quite his thing
And once he’ll have it, he will sing
Yes, sing, and sing, he’ll sing just like a lark
"This Ring on my finger will make me look smart!"
We’re off to see the wizard,
The wizard of Isengard!
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard of Isengard
With orcs he hunts the hobbit grunts
He hold in such low regard
He hunts them high, he hunts them low
To Orthanc high he’ll have them towed
Yes, towed and towed, until they break apart
"I’ll catch you, you know, ’cause I’m terribly smart!"
We’re off to see the wizard, the wizard of Isengard
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard of Orthanc dark
His palantir he holds quite dear
To wield it is quite an art
The Stone that can look both far and near
And in it the Ring, it does appear
So near, so near, it almost breaks his heart
"That Ring will be mine!" he does yell and does bark.
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard of Orthanc dark.
We’re off to see the wizard,
The wizard of Angrenost
Try as he might, it’s quite a plight
To lay his hand on what’’s lost
And men and elves , also the trees
They’ll fight the wizard till he flees
Yes, flee he will, yes flee since he was crossed
"That Grima, his blood I will turn into frost!"
We’re off to see the wizard,
The wizard of Angrenost.
We’re off to see the wizard,
The wizard called Curunir
No ring, no men, nor orcs or stone
Are left he once held so dear
Abandoned he was by his fellow wiz
Yes, Olorin gave him quite a dis
He curse him out, it rang loud in his ear
"You fool, no more wizard will you be, my dear!"
We’re off to see the wizard,
The wizard once called Curunir.
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard who went to the West
He lost his life in quite a strife
But we know its for the best
That Grima fellow stabbed him cold
And with a dagger, brave and bold
He stabbed him, stabbed him in the back, no jest
"Oh man, does this hurt, you indeed are a pest!"
We’re off to see the wizard
The wizard who went to the West.
L. Frank Baum, The wizard of Isengard
Thwe wizard of Orthanc II
I cannot stop!
Somewhere over on Orthanc… way up high
There's a wiz that I heard of once in a lullaby
Somewhere over on Orthanc, Skies are dark
And the wiz that is wizzing there really's quite a shark!
Someday I'll wish upon One Ring and wake up in a marsh with him behind me
Where troubles build like brick walls high
And Sauron will send Nazguls fierce
Oh so close behind me
Somewhere over Barad-Dur… Nazguls fly
Nazguls fly over whole Mordor, hide from them, why can't I?
If nasty aweful Nazguls fly, I need to hide quick
Why Oh why can't I?
L. Frank Baum, The wizard of Orthanc
Lord of the Rings, as told by R2D2
Lord of the Rings, told by R2D2
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp- Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp- Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-
Beep-whistle-chirp-chirp-beep-chirp-whistle-crackle-blink-chirp-beep-beep-BEEP-crackle-whistle-whistle-beep-chirp-BEEP!
More Gil & Sul
I am the very model of the modern heir of Elendil
I aid the bearer of the ring whose really not an Underhill
I woo the elven damsel and..
The army incorporeal,
I am the very model of the modern heir of Elendil!
The Shire faces a historic threat from an Axis of Evil: Mordor,
Saruman, and, um, orcs or something.
Covert cells of black riders are at work in the land. To face
this evil, I have dispatched a Special Operations team to
dispose of the ring of power in, uh, Baghdad.
Also, tax cuts.
Lord of the Rings - minimalistic version
One Ring to rule them all!
*sizzle*
The End
Requests!
Could someone pelase do:
Michael Ellis, a beautiful capture of Douglas Adams style!
Couldn't resist this one;
The Lord of the Rings, by Joseph Conrad (adapatation by Francis Ford Coppola)
Frodo stood before the stinking, cavernous entry to Mount Doom's heart, fingering the ring on its chain. They all want me to do it, he thought to himself, Sauron most of all. He just wanted to go down fighting, like a soldier of doom, a walking talking embodiment of evil, not some ragtag renegade ghost of a Maiar bound to his black tower. Frodo remembered the words he'd heard from afar when he'd donned the ring at the Falls of Rauros.
"Who are you?" came a cold voice, thick with malice. "Are you a Ring Bearer? Are you an assassin?"
"Certainly not, sir! I'm a hobbit!" squeaked Frodo.
"No... you are an errand boy... sent by grocery clerks... to collect a bill."
"I think it's Sam you want there, Mister Sauron, sir! I'll go get him!"
"No! Wait... I am afraid, that if I am... defeated - Frodo - my Ring destroyed... that they may not understand what I was doing here... that they may make up lies, Frodo, to protect themselves from the truth. Will you see to it, Frodo, that they learn the truth about me?"
Frodo sighed. Sauron had broken from the Valar. He'd broken with them, then he'd broken with himself. Frodo had never seen anyone so broken up and smashed apart. They're going to make me a hero for this, he thought bitterly, and I'm not even in their f***ing Fellowship anymore.
Epigramcracker, you're "Night Before Christmas" version is absolutely great! How long did it take you to get all of that to rhyme?
~Aya~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/limmenel
http://envisioning.cjb.net
This may be rather lame, but here goes...
Lord of the Rings! - The Rogers and Hammerstein version:
"The hills are alive, with the sound of Elvish,
With words they have spoke for three thousand years..."
"Oh, the orcs and the hobbits should be friends,
Oh the orcs and the hobbits should be friends.
One of them likes to hunt and feed,
The other one likes to smoke pipeweed,
But that's no reason why they can't be friends!"
"There is nothing like a Ring!
Nothing in the world!
There is nothing like that thing
That magical evil Ring!"
"Climb every mountain,
Ford every stream,
Follow every Gollum,
Till you destroy that Ring!"
"Some enchanted evening
You may see a ranger,
You may see a ranger,
Across a crowded room.
And somehow you know
You know even then
That somewhere you'll see him again."
"Hello, young hobbits, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes go with you today
I've been on a quest like you."
"I'm gonna throw that Ring right into the fire
I'm gonna throw that Ring right into the fire
I'm gonna throw that Ring right into the fire
And send Sauron on his way!"
And the big, showstopping production number:
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh, Mordor!
Where Frodo and Sam will try to go.
Where the air is foul and orcs do prowl,
Will they succeed? We just don't know!"
quote:
Originally posted by jeffj.
Lord of the Rings - Gandalf v. Balrog code
import gandalf;
import balrog;
import bridge_of_khazad-dum;
public class GandalfvsBalrog extends Moria
{
Wizard Gandalf; //declare variables
Balrog misterSparkles;
main()
{
Gandalf.print("You Shall NOT PASS!!!);
misterSparkles.print("RARARARRRRARR!!!!);
Gandalf.HitGroundWithStaff_MakeBridgeFall;
if(misterSparkles.isFallingWayDown)
{
misterSparkles.whipGandalf_bringHisAssDownToo;
}
while(Gandalf.isFallingWayDown)
{
Gandalf.GrabSword_KickAssandYellAlot;
}
return One_Smoted_Balrog;
}
}
WELL DONE!!!!
Inspired by earlier versions of Poe, I decided to try my hand at it. Can't believe no one has done this one yet:
The Wizard, by Edgar Allen Poe
Once upon a morning sunny, while I breakfasted, eggs so runny,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of elvish lore-
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my Bag-End door.
"Tis some relative," I muttered, "tapping at my Bag-End door-
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the late September;
And each separate hobbit wrought requests upon my door.
Eagerly I wished the evening;-when I would be softly leaving
From my home in the West Farthing-for an elven shore-
For the rare and radiant Rivendell, told in elven lore-
Imladris here for evermore.
And the shiny, tempting feeling of my secret ring
Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"Tis some relative entreating entrance at my Bag-End door-
Some blasted relative entreating entrance at my Bag-End door;-
This is it and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew strong; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I am not admitting, definitely not admitting
Anyone except upon official party business, I implore.
Go away!" said I-and then a voice outside the door;-
"What about old friends?" it said, and nothing more.
Open wide the door flinging, long I stood there wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no hobbit ever dared to dream before
But my eyes did not deceive me, for there stood tall before me
My old friend the wizard Gandalf, beloved the Shire o'er!
My dear friend the wizard Gandalf, whom I had known before.
"Come in, come in," said I, and behind him shut the door.
That's all I can think of for now - anyone care to finish it?
My first post, and I'm so happy it hasn't been done so far.
My Precious, light of my life, fire of my being. My sin, My soul. My-pre-cious: the tip of the finger taking a trip of three steps down the knuckles to tap, at three, on the metal. My. Pre. Shuss.
She was a Ring, a plain Ring, in the beginning, glimmering under the waters some leagues below. She was the One Ring to Saurun. She was finder’s bounty for Bilbo. She was The Ring of Power on the dotted line. But on my finger she was always My Precious.
Did I owe her to aprecursor? I did, indeed I did. In point of fact, there might never have been my precious at all – a shudder at that thought – had not Saurun longed, years ago, for a certain amount of power. Oh when? About as many ages ago as, in my reckonning, have past since my precious was taken from me by a certain hobbit. You can always count on a ringbearer for a fancy prose style.
Ladies and gentlemen of middle-earth, exhibit number one is what the ancients, the misinformed, noble kings of the ancients, buried. Look at this tangle of thorns.
[Openning Passages from “My Precious: Confessions of Black Befallen Male” by J. R R. Nabokov]
Breathe...one...two...one...two...breathe....in...pain...out...pain...in... the firery breath of orcs in my face .... pain....breathe....in...out.... feet fastened by festoons to the fabric and feels faint in the drifting in and out one....two....one....two...
Fictional fragment found in shoe rumoured to have belonged to Samuel Beckett but not approved for publication, anywhere or at any time. On the reverse was a shopping list. Authentic? We dought it.
"Hello, Mr. Smeagol" by Tori Tolkien
Hello, Mr. Smeagol
Can I have your precious
Cause it's gold, gold gold
Round a hole, hole, hole
Elbereth, Githoniel
Sometimes you're not feeling well
With a gigantic flaming eye to blow your mi-ind
Hello Mr. Smeagol
Ran into some confusion
With A Ms. Galadriel-el-el
Dead Marshes, we're marching on
You think you're Sauron's Nazgul
Or an Easterling Oliphaunt
To blow your mind
[little piano riff]
Figure it out!
He's a good-time Stinker
He's got a little finger
In his mouth and so he bites
Figure it out!
He's a good-time Slinker
Too bad the lava bath was premature
She said, and smiled
Could anyone do "We're Going to War" from Duck Soup?
rogers and hammerstein
Rogers and Hammerstein version:
Song 1. Frodo and the other 8 travelers.
(?How do you solve a problem like Maria??)
How do you solve a problem like Moria?
How do you catch an orc and bring it down?
How do you find a word that means Moria?
A tunnel of darkness? A mountain of mist? Khazad-dúm?
Many a thing you know would like to kill you.
Many a thing will stop you getting through.
But how do you break away
And run for the light of day?
How do you make sure Gandalf makes it too?
Oh, how do you solve a problem like Moria?
How, do you keep your . . . sword . . . from . . . glow-ing . . . bluuuuuuuuuue?
Song 2. Inside Moria. Battle scene.
(?I Have Confidence?)
Frodo: [spoken] A troll with armies of orcs . . . what's so fearsome about that?
[sung] It ought to be so exciting,
to be fighting like this in the cave!
I've always wanted adventure . . . Then why can't I be brave . . .
Oh . . .
I have confidence in Gandalf! I have confidence in Sam!
I have confidence that spring will come again!
Besides which I sing, I have confidence in Sting!
Sting doesn't cut you lightly! Sting doesn't bite in vain!
Sting bites a troll with careful fingers, when he comes out, Come out! It's healthy,
I have confidence in Elrond! Everything will turn out fine!
I have confidence in confidence alone . . .
Besides which I sing, I have con-fi-dence in Stiiiiiiiing!
[Stabs troll. Close-up on triumphant face. Fade to black.]
Song 3. Around the campfire. Night. Sam, teaching the others to sing.
(?Do, Re, Mi?)
[Sam, speaking.] Now guys, singing is very easy, once you learn the rules.
[sings]When you read you begin with?
[Pippen] ABC!
[Sam] and when you sing, you being with Fro, ray, me.
[others echo] Fro, ray, me.
[Sam] The first 3 notes just happen to be, fro ray, me.
[others echo] Fro, ray, me.
[Sam] Fro ray me ha foe claw glee . . . oh, let's see if I can make this easier.
Fro, do dear, a hobbit dear,
Ray, a light from Gandalf's staff,
Me, a name I call myself,
Ha, a pleasant elfish laugh.
Foe, a guy from Sauron's team,
Claw, upon an orc-y?s toe,
Glee, a trait we sometimes show,
That will bring us back to Fro-oh-oh-do,
[All] Fro! Do dear! A hobbit dear! (etc.)
[Sam speaks again] Now, to make a song, we just put the notes together like this.
Foe, fro, claw, ha, me, fro, ray.
Foe, fro, claw, glee, fro, ray, fro.
[Aragorn]: But it doesn't mean anything!
[Sam] Then we put words to it, like this:
When you go to Riven-dell,
You will have a tale to tell!
[Aragorn] This is fun!
[excited, the fellowship begins to run around and sing]
[repeat chorus]
Song 4. Aragorn comforts the others during a snow storm.
(?My Favorite Things?)
[Speaking.] Now, whenever I'm afraid, I just think of a few of my favorite things.
[Merry] Like what, Aragorn?
[Aragron] Well . . .fireballs from dragons and wine from our elf-friends.
Gandalf and Arwen and Bilbo's brass bookends,
[music starts]
Crowns that would fit on the foreheads of kings,
these are a few of my favorite things,
Bright steel scabbards and warm silver armor,
Swords that will swing from the arm of a farmer,
Silver-white horses that leap out of springs,
These are a few of my favorite things!
Dwarves with long beards in the midst of a melée,
Passing warriors which I jump out and waylay,
Poems in Elvish with lengthy refrains,
These are a few of my favorite things?
When the orc bites, When the troll stings,
When the balrog?s mad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feeeeeeel, so, baaaaaaaaaad!!!
[repeat chorus.]
Song 5. Gollum. In a clearing, eyes glowing.
(?Edelweiss?)
My precioussss, my preciousssss,
every night I pursue you,
Small and gold, clean and cold,
Other eyes look right through you.
Little gold ring, it's for you I sing.
Let him have you? Never!,
My preciousss, my preciousss,
you're my precioussss forever.
My precioussss, my precioussss,
Nasty hobbitses take you.
Me they'll find, right behind,
I will never forsake you.
You are my present, my birthday gift,
I am sly and clever,
My preciousss, my precioussss,
You're my preciousss forever.
Song 6. Full company. Sauron.
(?The Lonely Goat-herd?)
High in a tower, a threat'ning warcry, lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
A ?bend to my power, resist no more? cry, lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
Orcs on the hill, smeared with blood and gore cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
?We want to fight and to kill some more!?, cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
Elves in their strongholds of days of yore cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
But there's a surprise from Sauron in store. Cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
Galadriel's forces can take no more, cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
?Empe ar leminkaínen lingane temnor,? cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
Blackness and filth in the land Mordor cry, lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
Circling ravens cackling as they soar cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
[Sauron: evil laughter]
Lay-de-laaaay-ohhhh,
Lay-de-leeeee-ohhhh,
Lay-de-laaaay-ohhhh,
Lay-de-lay-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha,
Lay-de-laaaay-ohhhh,
Lay-de-leeeee-ohhhh,
Lay-de-laaaay-ohhhh,
Lay-de-lay-ha-ha-ha-ha.
?Oh, I am rotten right to the core, cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
Neither entreaty will soften me, nor cry. Lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
?My deeds will live on in your tales and lore, cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
Soon we'll see who's calling who a bore. Cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
?Gandalf the grey lies inside earth's core, cry lay-ee-oh, lay-ee-oh, lay-hee-ho.
He should have run faster for the door, cry lay-dee-oh, lay-dee-oh, lay.
?Happy am I, lay-de-oh, lay-de-lee-oh,
Oh, lay-do-oh, lay-de-lay-eeee-oh!
Soon little trav'lers will turn and flee-oh,
Lay-de-oh, lay-de-oh, lay. Hey!
MALIS by Philip K Dick
(acronym for: Mordor’s Atrocity Left In Spirit)
Smeagol called the Gollom’s nervous breakdown began the day he went fishing with his friend, Deagol, who found a pretty Ring. He asked Deagol if he could have it, since it was his birthday. But Deagol replied that he had already given Smeagol a present, and was keeping the Ring for himself.
At once, Smeagol leaped to the conclusion that this was Deagol’s way of insulting him on his birthday. It would be Smeagol’s delusion for years that the Ring was his. He murdered his friend Deagol, and he would wander, cursing the sun and everything under it, until he lived by an underground lake. And there, one day, he lost his precious Ring
That’s where Smeagol began to go nuts. At the time he didn’t know it, but he had been drawn into an unspeakable game. There was no way out.
Frodo Baggins was, by birth, a hobbit. His life was a fantasy. Nevertheless, he’s the one who became the bearer of the Ring, and got zapped by the Red Eye which communicated to him unspeakable things.
Frodo’s journey was recorded in his late Uncle’s unfinished journal. His encounters with the minions of the Dark Lord Sauron was all there on the pages in his own handwriting. Frodo’s handwriting. Not Sauron’s.
You don't know nearly enough about anything about the Ring.
'The One Ring, it's like big-ass magic', said Tom Bombadil.
Frodo closed his eyes and inhaled the rich smoke of Bombadil's pure Old Forest black hash.
gandalf is screaming
'It can, like, turn you invisible. Make you a dark lord, or a ring-wraith, man. Isildur got his hands on it when his bunch formed an alliance with those GILGALAD elf bastards to kick the big red eye's big red ass, but the whole thing turned crazy'
'I don't believe you'
'That's because you don't know nearly enough about anything about the Ring', said Bombadil. 'And your mind's switched off'
gandalf is still screaming
You're not listening to me, Meriadoc. Tell me where the One Ring is. We represent the Urak-Hai ORC organization. You've heard of us, haven't you? NOW. Tell me where the One Ring is!
Three rings for the elven kings under the sky
Seven for the dwarf lords in their halls of stone
Twenty three because twenty three is the most discordant number
Scooby-dooby-doo
'Bombadil! Boromir!', said Pippin suddenly. Sam was in the corner performing graphic sex acts with Goldberry.
'What?', asked Frodo.
'Isn't it obvious? Their names... he was so smug, that bastard, he evn let it be similar. They're the same person!'
lalalallalalal. I'm cleverer than you are
'You haven't even met Boromir yet. We're still in the first part of the book. Anyway, Bombadil works for Galadriel's splinter faction of ELF. Boromir hates them!'
'Frodo. There is no such organization as ELF. It was created by Gandalf in the Second Age as a front organization for the real conspiracy ELVES'
'How do you know?'
'Because I and my four quintuplets have been working for the Nazgul conspiracy all along'
Fnord
-excerpt from 'Stuff You Didn't Know That I'm Not Going To Tell You About The Lord of the Rings', by Robert Anton Wilson
by Virginia Woolf
The sun, now high, shone down upon the mountains, light turning black mountains now grey, now white, and every crack and pebble were silhouetted against the white cliffs like broken twigs against the snow. The light penetrated the hobbit-hole window, saturated it, until it became a fierce halogen sun of its own, scattering haphazard bolts of light across the translucent wooden stools, the translucent maps, the pungent hobbit-weed.
"The marsh is cold," said Frodo, "and I am in it. It is time for crossing this marsh, this inevitable moor, the thick noxious air interspersed with humming insects. I am weighted down with my triumph, with my terror. Sam is here. He is not weighted, he does not know the chilly squeeze of the Ring. I see his careful step, his thick feet like a dainty oliphant stepping from patch to patch of stabbing grass. With his dainty oliphant feet he carefully steps from patch to patch. He has no contradictions, he does not triumph and tremble. I could range with visionary brilliance across the clouds and through the mountains, but I cannot carefully step from patch to patch with dainty oliphant feet.
"Now Smeagol beckons. He cowers and shrinks and calls with his blue-skinned limbs. This is how I will destroy the Ring: with power and with desire, plunging clumsily into the thick waters that surround me."
"Frodo is falling," said Sam. "I am not fast enough. Gollum is fast and he pulls him from the mucous bog. Now Frodo is in the world again, and my jealousy burns in combination with my relief. But which is relief, which jealousy? Now which do I hate, and which do I love?
"Gollum is brittle and he is fast. Frodo watches with unctuous eyes the cooling, the slow petering out of the planet. I am black and fertile like the aerated soil, I will never be a part of the corruption and the abstracting of the world. And yet I walk when they walk, and yet I beat the one and scold the other.
"Now Frodo has wiped the oleaginous water from his face. Full of hate and love I lead, I follow, and with careful feet tread from patch to cracking patch of grey and dying grass."
Akira and Gaiman LotR?
Well, I dunno if anyone's tried either of those (too many pages to slog through) but here's my takes on LotR..the first is based off the anime Akira,
Saruman: GANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALF!!!!!
Gandalf: SARUMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!
Saruman: GANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALF!!!!!!!
Gandalf: SARUMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!
And now, to make up for that horrid show...
Neil Gaiman's The Lord of Ringes
(note that asterisks represent internal monologue)
Scene: The Dhoom Club, where all the horrid legions of Mordor come to relax, and enjoy a good show. Usually a good show involves at least three deaths. On the stage stand Smeagol, dressed rather garishly, and Frodo, wearing a black suit and hat. A single microphone stands between them, and a spotlight shines on either of them. Gandalf and Sauron sit in a private box, watching the exchange with much interest.
Smeagol: "sss, welcome, ladies and gennelmen, to another thrill-packed evening of funfunfun here at the Dhoom club. I am your host, Smeagol, true owner of the one ring, finder of the precious. Tonight, for your entertainment, and--SSS---delectation...a formal challenge. As the challenged, I set the meter and take first move. And the challenger is Frodo, once the master of the One Ring...
ssso let's have a big hand for--THE SANDM-errr, RINGBEARER!"
Frodo: *It has been long since I was forced to play such games with monsters. I rise slowly, approach the stage. Around me a soft susurrus of sound, and a languorous, ironic applause. "The Dhoom Club. It feels like a bad joke. And like everything else in Mordor, it is deadly serious.*
Smeagol: "ssso...
You know the rules, ringbearer? If you win, I will return your ring. If you lose, you will ssserve as a plaything of Mordor, for eternity. Our ssslave. "
Frodo nods his assent.
Smeagol: "Very well. I have the first move. I am a Warg, prey-stalking, lethal prowler. "
Frodo: *My move.* "I am a rider of Rohan, horse-mounted, warg-stabbing." *I smell spilt ale, stale tabac smoke and cheap sex, perfume and mold. And I feel the grass beneath my hooves, the flanks between my legs. All is real. Nothing is real. Smeagol's move.*
Smeagol: "I am a midge, horse-ssstinging, rider-throwing."
Frodo: *There are many ways to lose the oldest game. Failure of nerve, hesitation...being unable to shift into a defensive shape. Lack of imagination.* "I am a spider, eight-legged, midge-consuming."
Smeagol: "I am a sssnake, ssspider-devouring, poison-toothed."
Frodo: "I am a dwarf, poison-resistant, snake-crushing, heavy-bearded." *I feel the snake writhe beneath my foot, its spine crushed.*
Smeagol: "I am a Balrog, flame and smoke, dwarf-ssslaying."
Frodo: *A change in direction, but still an old gambit. I think...I think I understand how Smeagol plays. How I can turn it against him. I think I will abandon the offensive.* "I am a world, space-floating, life-nurturing."
Smeagol: I am the One Ring, world-ruling.
Frodo: "I am the Universe--all things encompassing, all life embracing."
Smeagol: "I am anti-life, the beassst of judgement. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universesss, godsss, worldsss...
of everything. Sss, and what will YOU be THEN, ringbearer?
Frodo: "I am hope."
Smeagol: "Oh. Then I am..sss. I...I don't know."
Merry Christmas, btw.
quote:
Originally posted by Limmenel
Epigramcracker, you're "Night Before Christmas" version is absolutely great! How long did it take you to get all of that to rhyme?
~Aya~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/limmenel
http://envisioning.cjb.net
RINGNET
[Music (lost of brass)] DUUUM-da-Dum-dum. DUUUUM-da-Dum-dum-DAAAAAAA...
[Narrator] "Ladies and gentlemen, the epic you are about to see is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent."
[Clipped, almost-uninflected voice takes over] "This is the city. Hobbiton, the Shire. I work here. I carry a staff. My name's Gandalf."
Ring Talk with Dr. Laura
Laura: Okay, our next caller, you're on.
Caller: Hi, my name is Arwen. I'm in love with a younger man. However, I think he's interested in someone more his own age. I was wondering -
Laura: How much younger are we talking about here?
Arwen: Well, he's in his 30's, and I'm nearing 1000. Anyway, my question is -
Laura: What a minute! What are you doing running around with a man whose over 900 years younger than you? What kind of sick freak shacks up with an young chippie? Do you have some kind of self-esteem problem?
Arwen: Well, I'm an elf. We live a -
Laura: An ELF?! So you're one of those tree hugging hippie bastards whose always stoned or on acid! No wonder he's interested in someone else! Not only are you old enough to be his ancestor, you're probably wandering into his house late at night wasted out of your mind from some strange elfish ritual!
Arwen: That's not -
Laura: Shut up! I'm on a roll! My advice is that you date someone your own age and for GOD'S SAKE stop dropping fairy acid. It adds years to your skin. I should know. Next caller!
--
I made up the ages, but I think you get the point...
"Lord of the Rings" if written by Peter Jackson
Someone please take this idea to it's fullest, but all I know is that it would involve raunchy puppets and somehow, someway, we'd see zombies/ghosts/mummies doin' the nasty. Dead Marshes, anyone?
The Mordor Horror, by HP Lovecraft
When a traveller in Middle Earth takes the wrong fork at the junction of Isildur pike just beyond Moria he comes upon a lonely and curious country.
The ground gets higher, and the brier-bordered stone walls press closer and closer against the ruts of the dusty, curving road. The trees of the frequent forest belts seem too large, and the wild weeds, brambles and grasses attain a luxuriance not often found in settled regions. At the same time the planted fields appear singularly few and barren; while the sparsely scattered houses wear a surprisingly uniform aspect of age, squalor, and dilapidation.
Without knowing why, one hesitates to ask directions from the gnarled solitary figures spied now and then on crumbling doorsteps or on the sloping, rock-strewn meadows. Those figures are so silent and furtive that one feels somehow confronted by forbidden things, with which it would be better to have nothing to do. When a rise in the road brings the mountains in view above the deep woods, the feeling of strange uneasiness is increased. The summits are too rounded and symmetrical to give a sense of comfort and naturalness, and sometimes the sky silhouettes with especial clearness the queer circles of tall stone pillars with which most of them are crowned.
Gorges and ravines of problematical depth intersect the way, and the crude wooden bridges always seem of dubious safety. When the road dips again there are stretches of marshland that one instinctively dislikes, and indeed almost fears at evening when unseen whippoorwills chatter and the fireflies come out in abnormal profusion to dance to the raucous, creepily insistent rhythms of stridently piping bull-frogs. The thin, shining line of the river's upper reaches has an oddly serpent-like suggestion as it winds close to the feet of the domed hills among which it rises.
As the hills draw nearer, one heeds their wooded sides more than their stone-crowned tops. Those sides loom up so darkly and precipitously that one wishes they would keep their distance, but there is no road by which to escape them. Across a covered bridge one sees a small village huddled between the stream and the vertical slope of Mount Doom, and wonders at the cluster of rotting gambrel roofs bespeaking an earlier architectural period than that of the neighbouring region. It is not reassuring to see, on a closer glance, that most of the houses are deserted and falling to ruin, and that the broken-steepled church now harbours the one slovenly mercantile establishment of the hamlet. One dreads to trust the tenebrous tunnel of the bridge, yet there is no way to avoid it. Once across, it is hard to prevent the impression of a faint, malign odour about the village street, as of the massed mould and decay of centuries. It is always a relief to get clear of the place, and to follow the narrow road around the base of the hills and across the level country beyond till it rejoins the Isildur pike. Afterwards one sometimes learns that one has been through Mordor...
... 'Fifteen year' gone,' he rambled, 'I heered Ol' Gandalf say as haow some day we'd hear a child o' Arwen's a-callin' its father's name on the top o' Sentinel Hill...'
But Samwise interrupted him to question the Gondor men anew.
'What was it, anyhaow, an' haowever did young Wizard Saruman call it aout o' the air it come from? An' what's with that gold ring?'
Aragorn chose his words very carefully.
'It was - well, it was mostly a kind of force that doesn't belong in our part of space; a kind of force that acts and grows and shapes itself by other laws than those of our sort of Nature. We have no business calling in such things from outside, and only very wicked people and very wicked cults ever try to. There was some of it in Saruman himself - enough to make a devil and a precocious monster of him, and to make his passing out a pretty terrible sight. I'm going to burn his accursed diary, and if you men are wise you'll dynamite that ring up there, and pull down all the standing stones on the other hills. Things like that brought down the beings those Wizards were so fond of - the beings they were going to let in tangibly to wipe out the human race and drag the earth off to some nameless place for some nameless purpose.
'But as to this thing we've just sent back - the Wizards raised it for a terrible part in the doings that were to come. It grew fast and big from the same reason that Saruman grew fast and big - but it beat him because it had a greater share of the outsideness in it. You needn't ask how Saruman called it out of the air. He didn't call it out. It was his twin brother, Sauron, but it looked more like the father than he did!'
Ring Talk
quote:
Originally posted by Xuanwu
Ring Talk with Dr. Laura
Pelennor Field Address
Well, I tried to adapt one of the great speeches of mankind to a LOTR theme. Maybe not the best, and I encourage anyone to do better than me
The Pelennor Fields Address, by King Aragorn Elessar
One Age and seven years ago our fathers brought forth in these lands a new kingdom, conceived by faithful Numenorans and dedicated to the proposition that all – men, elves, hobbits, dwarves, but NOT minions – are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great was against the Dark Lord, Sauron the Deceiver, testing whether this realm, or any realm so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of these Pelennor Fields as a final resting place for those who gave their lives that this kingdom might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men and assorted beings, living or dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or distract. Middle Earth will little note nor remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from those honoured dead we take increased devotion – that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that our realms under the Valar shall have a new birth of freedom, and that rule of the people, by me, King Elessar, for all men in these lands shall not perish again from this our Middle Earth.
EOWULF - Anonymous
No one knows where the poem Eowulf was composed, or by whom, when or why. The poem, having survived the ages through pieced-together legends passed down through generations, was finally pieced together and recorded for posterity in the most recent century. What follows is an excerpt:
A great shadow descended
Horrific winged creature with wicked rider
A threatening shape, black-mantled, with a crown of steel
Between rim and robe only a deadly gleam of eyes
A great black mace he wielded
Theoden’s knights lay slain about him
Yet one stood there still—Dernhelm
Faithful beyond fear, with Merry at his side
This bloody battle, to stand til the fighting
Is done. Or war will sweep them to bitter death.
Meaning to stand, not run from the deadly eyes,
To stand between the Nazgul and his prey, to protect
The King, to stand til fate decides which side wins.
No man could hope to defeat this horrible monster
No man could try. Yet a sword rang out as it was drawn.
No living man was she—the Nazgul looked upon a woman
The shield-maiden Eowulf, protecting her lord and kin
The winged creature screamed at her defiance, whilst
Its rider was silent, suddenly
Doubting the fate he’d forseen
Then, slow-kindled courage, Merry crawled
To face their foe, for pity of she called Dernhelm
Unbeknownst to the deadly eyes of their enemy
Their malice drawn to the woman before him
Merry clenched his sword—let her not face death unaided
Eowulf, helm of her secrecy fallen,
So fair and so desperate
Eyes grey, hard and fell, tears on her cheek
Sword in her hand, shield raised, her face
Of one seeking death, having no hope
The great beast beats its hideous wings
Giving wind of its foul stench
As it swiftly fell down upon Eowulf,
Shrieking and striking, set on slaughter
Wretched and horrific mass brandishing beak and claw
She did not flinch—swift stroke she dealt, skilled, deadly
Her sword sliced cleanly its outstretched neck,
Its hewn head fell like a stone
She sprang back as the huge shape crumpled and shadow passed
A light fell about her, her hair shone in the sunrise
Alas, from the wreckage, the Black Rider rose,
Tall and threatening, towering above her
He vented his mace with a venomous shriek
Shattering her shield and arm into shivers
To her knees she stumbled. He raised his mace to kill.
Suddenly stumbling, shrieking, his stroke went wide,
Merry’s sword had stabbed him from behind,
Piercing the sinew behind his mighty knee.
Eowulf! Eowulf! She struggled and rose, still brave, still strong
With her last strength, driving her sword twixt crown and mantle
Her sword sparkled as it shattered into many shards
As the crown rolled away with a clang,
Its cry faded to shrill wailing as the air shuddered
The wind swallowed the bodiless voice,
Never to sound again in that age of this world.
Eowulf fell forward upon her fallen, now shapeless, foe
Merry stood in the midst of the slain,
His sorrow, his tears blinding him, through a mist
He looked on fair Eowulf, she lay and did not move
Her victory worthy of a song
(not entirely a writing style but this song has been stuck in my head for days)
<i>don't be fooled by the ring that I've got
i'm still i'm still Frodo from the Shire
i used to know little but now i've seen alot
no matter where i go i find myself in a mire</i>
- B. Frodo - Froddy from the Block
The Vampire Legolas
by Anne Rice, writing as Arwen Risali
(please excuse my english; it is not my first language)
I'm certain many of you know me. And for those of you who don't, let this be love at first sight. My hair is luscious and glaringly blonde, kept to perfection; my eyes, a startling blue. I am the beauty for which all fan-girls sing their songs. I am Legolas, nearly 3000 years old.
You may have been anxious as my last adventure left me in, say, dire straits I suppose. Well, my darlings, worry not, your king has arisen.
(Sorry, burst of inspiration after reading the first part of Queen of the Damned :rolleyes
Brilliant Welcome to the SDMB!!!! I hope you stick around!
You did just wonderful. As for English being your second language, dosn't matter. You did just as well as some of us who've used the dang language our whole lives. Keep up the good work.
I heard about this thread and had to contribute.
Here is my offering: "I Have Been One Acquainted With The Ring." I screwed up the rhyme structure a bit, but then again, I'm not as cool as Robert Frost.
I have been one acquainted with the Ring.
I have walked down The Road —and Back Again.
I bore to Mordor this accursed thing.
I have looked upon the glories of the elves.
I watched them passing back into the east,
And dropped my eyes, and grieved for them myself.
I have stood still and feared the sound of wings,
When far above the strange inhuman cry
Came down to herald Nazgul hunting rings.
But I could not hold back or turn and fly;
And further my burden I must bring,
In Barad-dur the bright and lidless eye
Proclaimed this Middle Earth a fading thing.
I have been one acquainted with the Ring.
Leonard Nimoy's version
I can't believe I haven't seen this one yet: LotR as sung by Star Trek's 'Spock', Leonard Nimoy...
http://www.ussjoshua.org/bbaggins.mov
Hilarious, but not for the faint of heart...
doh.
elves go into the WEST. Stupid me. Stupid board for blocking me from editing my post.
THE AGE IT IS A-CHANGIN'
by Hob Dylan
Come gather 'round Hobbits
Wherever you roam
And admit that the ruffians
Around you have grown
And accept it that you'll be
Turned out of your homes
If your Shire to you is worth savin'
Then you better start scourin'
Or you'll sink like Orod-na-Thôn
For the Age it is a-changin'
Come seers like Malbeth who prophesize in verse
And keep your eyes wide
The Dead are under a curse
And don't speak too soon
For Mount Doom's going to burst
And there's no tellin' who that it's flamin'
For the Orc-hordes now
Will get beaten the worst
For the Age it is a-changin'
Come Rohirrim, Dunlendings, please heed the call
Leave your weapons at the doorway of the Golden Hall
For he that does not
Must clean the Mearas' stalls
There's a battle outside
And it's ragin'
It'll soon ram your gates
And batter your walls
For the Age it is a-changin'
Come Sackvilles and Proudfoots
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your Tooks and your Gamgees
Are beyond your command
The old road goes ever on and on
Please get out of the new one
If you can't fight Sauron
For the Age it is a-changin'
The white wizard's Gandalf
The brown's Radagast
The King will return
And reign at Fornost
As the present now
Will later be past
The Elves are rapidly fadin'
And the One Ring into
Mount Doom will be tossed
For the Age it is a-changin'
(Third Age, that is... Departure of Elves... Dominion of Men...)
DESOLATE MORDOR
by Hob Dylan
They're selling fireworks for the party
They're making the Ent-lands Brown
The ships are filled with Corsairs
The Grey Company is in town
Here comes the Mouth of Sauron
He's got us in a chill
One hand holds the grey Elven cloak
The other holds the mithril
And the army of the West is restless
They need somewhere to go
As the Lady and I look out tonight
On desolate Mordor
Ioreth, she seems so catty
"It takes a king to heal," she smiles
And puts her hands into the athelas
Queen Beruthiel style
And in comes Éowyn, she's moaning
"I'm a shieldmaiden I believe"
And Théoden says, "You're in the wrong place, my girl
You'd better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the Captains go
Is Ioreth sweeping up
On desolate Gondor
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The Lothlórien Lady
Has even taken all of her Elves inside
All except for Elladan and Elrohir
And the Ghân-buri-Ghân
Everyone else is making war
Or else expecting Elrond
And Prince Imrahil, he's girding up
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to do battle tonight
On desolate Mordor
Now Arwen, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her 2,222nd birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears a mithril vest
Her ancestry is Half-Elven
Her fate is her deathlessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Manwë's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into desolate Mordor
Aragorn, disguised as Strider
With his memories of Gil-Galad's hosts
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friends, the Dunharrow ghosts
He looked so rough and rascally
As he bummed a pipe of weed
Then he went off picking kingsfoil
And reciting Lúthien's deeds
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For riding around as Thorongil
To desolate Mordor
Dr. Saruman, he keeps his world
Inside of a rocky cup
But all of the angry Ent-folk
They're trying to tear it up
Now his Worm, some local loser
He's in charge of the Palantír
And he also keeps the counsel that says
"The king should be in fear"
They all chant "ta-rûna-rûna-rûna-rom!"
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From desolate Mordor
Across the Downs they've stripped the Hobbits
They're getting ready for the kill
The old Wights of the Barrows
Haunting the Carn Dûm hills
They're torturing poor Gollum
To find out who got the Ring
Then they'll kill him with Shelob
After poisoning him with her sting
And the Wight's groaning to Bombadil
"Get outa here if you don't know
Gollum is just being punished for going
To desolate Mordor"
Now at midnight all the Nazgûl
And the super-Orkish crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to Minas Morgul
Where Grond the battering machine
Is aimed at the gate of Gondor
And then the noisome Morgul-sheen
Is brought down from the tower
By black Ringwraiths who go
Check to see that no one is escaping
To desolate Mordor
Praise be to Vala Ulmo
Ar-Pharazôn sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Is Númenor On?"
And Arvedui and Witch-King Angmar
Are fighting in the White Towers
While Dwarvish miners battle Orcs
And Cave-Trolls trample flowers
Between the windows of the Sea
Where rebellious Noldorin war
And nobody has to think too much
About desolate Mordor
No, I didn't receive your letter yesterday
(About the time the door-bell broke)
When you entrusted it to Butterbur
Was that some kind of joke?
All these Ringwraiths that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to flood them down the river
And give the waves horses' manes
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From desolate Mordor
Excerpt from Zork of the Rings:
You are in a dark place. You are likely to be eaten by an orc.
> light staff
Your staff flares to light. You are in a great underground chamber overlooking a chasm. A thin stone bridge stretches over the chasm to the east. A darkened entryway goes west. A hideous balrog blocks further passage to the east.
> fight balrog with sword
You're kidding, right?
> look at balrog
It is like a great shadow, in the middle of which is a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seems to be in it and go before it... Its streaming mane kindles and blazes behind it. In its right hand is a blade like a stabbing tongue of fire; in its left, a whip of many thongs.... The shadows about it reach out like two vast wings. It raises the whip, and the thongs whine and crack. Fire comes from its nostrils.
> what is a balrog
A balrog is a demon of shadow and flame, one of the Maiar. They originate from the Undying Lands and are feared even by dragons.
> break bridge
With what?
> break bridge with staff
The stone bridge holds.
> say to balrog, "you shall not pass"
The balrog hesitates.
> attack bridge with staff
The bridge shatters under the impact, the balrog falling away into darkness. As it goes, it snaps its flaming whip, which wraps around your leg and pulls you from your lofty perch.
> catch edge of bridge
You manage to snag the edge of the stone bridge, but the weight of the balrog threatens to make you lose your grip.
> say to companions, "fly, you fools!"
They heed your advice. Your fingers release the edge of the bridge, plunging you into the chasm.
more "Pulp LotR"
The saddlebag of a dark rider's horse OPENS UP, MT. WEATHERTOP looms in the background. The ring wraiths reach inside, taking out daggers of Mordor, and unsheathing them.
Nazgul #1
We should have mithril swords for this kind of deal.
Nazgul #2
How many up there?
Nazgul #1
Three or four.
Nazgul #2
Counting the human?
Nazgul #1
I'm not sure.
Nazgul #2
So there could be five guys up there?
Nazgul #1
It's possible.
Nazgul #2
We should have fuckin' mithril swords.
They CLOSE the saddlebag.
Here's one more fragment from a Hob Dylan song:
Now, Gandalf, he's in the attic
With his pointed hat and his staff
Talking to some Uruks
Who say I make them laugh
And I would send a message
To find out what Baggins has got
But the Pony has been raided
And Butterbur has forgot
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck here on top of Orthanc with the Gondor blues again
P.S.
I imagined another Hob Dylan song title:
"LIKE A SEEING-STONE"
Jomo Mojo, love your Dylan parodies! Do you think you could do one to "Subterranean Homesick Blues?"
lastin
Frodo Bing: Could we BE in any more peril? Mt. Doom is SO much further than Tulsa!
JoeWise: Don't worry, Mr. Frodo, I'm sure it'll be fine, so long as they have sandwiches there. Besides, we got this guide helping out here. Hey, How you doin'?
SmeaGellar: Um, ittttt burnsssssssssssss, like, I could help, but um.....there's this thing...my precioussssssssss...I, uhhhhh.....
Frodo Bing: Could you FORM a complete sentence?
Elsewhere:
Tom Phoebedil:
SmeaGellar, SmeaGellar,
Why are they torturing you?
SmeaGellar, SmeaGellar,
It's not your fau-au-aullllt!!!!
Friends: The One with the Ring.
RING DWARF Series I Episode 1, "The End" by J. R. R. Grant Naylor
Int. The Prancing Pony kitchen.
FRODO is carrying a clipboard; behind him comes SAM, pushing a trolley full of tools and spare parts.
SAM: (Singing) To Edoras and Mirkwood, yes sir, I've been around...
FRODO: SAM.
SAM: Huh?
FRODO: Have you ever been hit over the head with a wooden mallet?
SAM shakes his head no.
FRODO: No? Stop that and push the trolley.
SAM: (With a mock salute) Yes, sir, Mr. FRODO!
They approach a soup pot.
FRODO: Right. Soup pot 172.
SAM begins humming the same song.
FRODO: SAM, shut up!
SAM: I'm only humming!
FRODO: Well *don't*.
SAM stops humming and continues the tune by holding his mouth open and slapping his cheeks.
FRODO: SAM, don't hum and don't make any stupid sounds with your
cheeks.
SAM stops slapping his cheeks and decides to do a rendition of "A Wizard’s Staff Has a Knob on the End" [sorry, wrong fantasy world!] by making clicking sounds in his throat.
FRODO: SAM, one more sound, anything, and you're on report, my laddo. What job number's this?
SAM mimes talking without making a sound.
FRODO: Right! That's it! (Begins writing on his clipboard) "Gamgee, S., Third Hobbit. Offense: obstructing a superior hobbit by humming, clicking, and being quiet." When Butterbur sees this you're dead.
SAM: FRODO, I'm bored!
FRODO: Bored?! This is essential routine maintenance! It's absolutely vital for the well-being of this inn, this quest, and this obsessively well-developed fantasy world. (Reading his clipboard) "Soup pot 172: chicken soup tastes funny."
He puts down his clipboard.
FRODO: Pass me a 14B, SAM.
SAM hands him a wad of greyish rag.
FRODO: SAM, is this a 14B? Does it look even *remotely* like a 14B?
He reaches into the parts trolley and pulls out another wad of greyish rag, indistinguishable from the first.
FRODO: *This* is a 14B, SAM. This (indiLEGOLASing the original) is a 14F. Are you blind?!
SAM: Who cares?
FRODO: *I* care, SAM!
FRODO looks at them both, realises he can't tell the difference either, and quickly puts the one he chose back in the trolley.
FRODO: It's *my* career, SAM. I'm the one who gets it in the neck if a ranger comes along, orders chicken soup, and tastes yesterday’s washing, heavy on the socks with a piquant dash of undergarments.
FRODO swabs out the inside of the pot with the 14 whatever.
FRODO: (To the soup pot) Chicken soup.
FRODO waits a moment, then realizes that this is not a magical soup pot and standing around looking at it will do nothing. He grabs another pot, also containing chicken soup, and pours it into pot 172. He then ladles out a cup of the soup for himself. FRODO takes a sip of it, grimaces in disgust, and spits it out.
FRODO: Yep. That's working.
----
A guy dressed in poncy armor glides down the corridor and strikes a pose at the end so the light reflects favorably off the shiny bits. This is LEGOLAS. He does a somersault and three twirls.
LEGOLAS: Aaahhh, ooowww, eee! How am I looking? (He pulls out a small mirror.) Looking nice. No, wait a minute. I'm looking better than nice. I'm looking dangerous. Aaaoooww, dangerous! Aaaooowww! I look so good, I’m tempted to have a facial expression. Hey, what's that? Oh, it's my shadow. Hey, even my shadow's looking nice! I'm looking nice, my shadow's looking nice -- what a team! We are unbelievable! OK, team, this way. (He points in one direction and then changes his mind) No, this way. Aaaooowww, yeah. (He reaches an intersection) This way!
FRODO is still following SAM.
FRODO: SAM, just hold your horses. Listen to me--
He's interrupted by LEGOLAS spinning into view.
LEGOLAS: Aaaooowww! (Notices SAM and FRODO) Uh oh. Better make myself
look manly!
LEGOLAS holds up his sword and looks fierce. SAM and FRODO turn tail and run.
LEGOLAS: Hee hee! Fearsome. I was fearsome!
SAM and FRODO are backing away from the door, until SAM backs into a table and nearly jumps out of his skin.
SAM: Aaahhh! GANDALF, what was that?
GANDALF: [his voice emanating from nowhere] During the Three Ages, Sam, the elves have gone from a fierce, war-like race concerned with the well-being of all Middle Earth inhabitants to a bunch of self-absorbed pretty boys who like to nance around in hidden glades admiring themselves in mirrors and sniggering about how superior they are to the race of men and how much nicer it will be when they go into the West. And they've been breeding there for three million years, and have evolved into the life form you just saw in the corridor.
SAM: I don't get it.
GANDALF: Well, you know how hobbitkind evolved from, er, very small apes?
SAM: Yeah, I know that.
GANDALF: He evolved from poofters. His ancestors were poofters. He's descended
from poofters. He is a poofter.
Suddenly LEGOLAS enters the room, twirling and howling.
LEGOLAS: Aaahhh, ooohhh, yeah-- (Freezing as he notices the others.)
SAM: Hello ... elf?
LEGOLAS: (Noticing something on his sleeve) Whoa! Crease!
LEGOLAS pulls out a small steam iron and runs it over the sleeve.
FRODO: Stand back, SAM.
Screaming incoherently, FRODO takes up a Kung Fu posture and leaps at LEGOLAS, hands and feet flying everywhere. He passes straight through the spread legs of the astonished LEGOLAS at knee-level and disappears out the door.
Heh, to think I thought my thread was going to die. Silly, silly me.
Welcome everyone from theonering.net! With your help, we should have every author in the history of western civilization covered in no time.
quote:
Originally posted by Fingolfin
Heh, to think I thought my thread was going to die. Silly, silly me.
Welcome everyone from theonering.net! With your help, we should have every author in the history of western civilization covered in no time.
But are we going to make it to 500 replies
and 50,000 by the new year?
Bored of the Rings
I can't believe I haven't seen reference to this, so I have to presume most of you haven't seen the Harvard Lampoon parody titled Bored of the Rings. Published in 1969, it out-dates any one younger than forty-five or so. It was published by Signet if any of you want to search used bookstores, or www.alibris.com.
"Starring" Dildo Bugger, the Finder of the Ring, His nephew Frito Bugger, Goodgulf Greyteeth the Wizard, Spam, Firto's loyal servant, their friends Moxie and Pixie Dingleberry (two more Boggies from the Sty), Stomper the Ranger, also known as Arrowroot of Arrowshirt, Gimlet son of Groin, Bromosel man of Minas Troney, and Legolam the elf.
Orlon, Master of the Last Homely House East of the Sea and Gift Shoppe, Sends them on the quest to toss the Ring into the Zazu pits of Fordor, while the Nine Nozdrul attempt to recover the Ring for Soorhead.
They of course, have adventures with Tim Benzedrine, the Riders of Roi-Tan, Goddam, and many other characters you would never associate with the real LOTR,
At 160 pages, it can be read about as quickly as this thread! LOL
(Seriously, it is a real book!)
Well, this is my first post, but it's an impressive thread, so I thought I'd add my wee bit of inspiration:
---
It was a warm, spring day, that fateful afternoon on the outskirts of the sleepy shire-town of Bag End. The small man didn’t realize the tumultuous times just ahead of him were but the will of Fate calling for action to be taken. No one realized in the sleepy town what the significance of the visit from the old man Gandalf would play on the future of the world. Indeed, it was but another yearly visit from the old wizard to his good friend that led him into that Hobbit-hole, or so it was assumed. Indeed, no one would have assumed that the man so short in stature would make such a difference as to topple an evil so great that it dwarfed even the ghastly thought of running out of legumes for the second daily breakfast.
But it was that fateful day in late spring that sparked a journey that would take the man so unassuming, so peaceful in nature to the very bowels of Mordor itself! To cast away the Ring that had caused such untold pain and suffering upon the whole of Middle-Earth was not a job for the faint of heart. Oh, no! It was a quest to be taken by one of valor and knightly stature, for what role would a mere hobbit play in the fate of the all of Middle-Earth, aside from keeping away from trouble?
Page 2.
Have you ever tried to fasten a roof gutter while standing on a rickety ladder and wielding nothing more than a rusted claw hammer? We all have. And that is the reason the folks over at Gildor’s Smithy have developed a new way to fasten your gutters. It’s the new Gildor’s Guttermate. Fasten your gutters with the ease of an elven engineer. I know I do. Available at all True-Value hardware stores, and home centers.
And now, the rest of the story…
Although the little hobbit was helped along by the ragtag group of adventurers, and even had been given by the queen of the elves herself the mighty short blade known as Sting, and though he had the One true ring of power in his possession, it was not a journey that was to be taken lightly. It was in fact, a journey that would test the very mettle the little hobbit had coursing through his veins, lo, those long many days ago. For it was known by those who studied such things as the art of magic, that none but the most stalwart of heart could even hold the Ring whilst resisting its power over its wielder. Indeed, the ring had corrupted all it had touched, and many that had merely gazed into its golden surface and seen the writing in that ancient tongue. But the little hobbit was determined to do what was right, for he knew that the fate Bag End, indeed the whole world, rested in his little hands. Oh, what a burden! The Ring felt heavy in his little hands.
But it was to come to pass that, even when persued by the dark powers of the Dark Lord, the Nazgul, and beset upon by giant spiders and a weasely, mutated creature named Gollum, this little hobbit was to destroy the One Ring and return Middle-Earth to its present state of peace and goodness to all its inhabitants.
It was then that the man was to go down in the annals of history. The man we know as…
… Frodo Baggins.
And now you know, the rest of the story.
Paul Harvey…
… Good day!
Since somebody asked...
LotR by Mike Judge
<Arwen, bearing Frodo before her, charges for the ford with the Nine at her heels>
Arwen: "Narolim, Asfoloth!"
Frodo: "Uh huh huh huh... hey, baby. I'm, like, pitching a tent here... huh huh huh..."
<Arwen and Frodo cross the ford. The ringwraiths attempt to follow, but are washed away by elvish magic, Frodo swoons and falls to the ground>
Frodo: "Huh huh huh. Dude, did I just, like, score...?"
***a little later...***
<The Council of Elrond is held in the last homely trailer park in Middle Earth>
Elrond: Now, Ah don't want you boys playin' around with some damn evil ring. It could be dangerous. Ya gotta throw it in the Crack of Doom."
Frodo: "Uh huh huh huh... he said 'crack.'"
Sam: "M heh heh m heh... yeah. That was cool."
Frodo: "Shut up, dumbass. There's, like, elves here and stuff. We could totally score."
Sam: "Yeah! Score! That rocks!"
Elrond: "Are you two even listening to me? What the...? Sam! What the damn hell you doin' with yer hand in yer pants??? You whackin' it in mah trailer?"
Sam: "Uh... no..."
***much later...***
<Galadriel sees the Hobbits safely away from Lothlorien>
Galadriel: "Take with you these wafers of lembas, the waybread of the elves. They will give you strength on your journey."
Frodo: "Uh... okay. Thanks."
Sam: "Yeah. Cool."
<Sam unwraps a wafer and pops it into his mouth. He chews for a few seconds, swallows, and a glazed look comes over him as his eyes dilate madly. He immediately pulls his surcoat over his head>
Sam: "I AM SAMHOLIO! I AM A HOBBIT GRINGO! I LIVE IN A BUNGHOLE!"
Frodo: "Cut it out, buttwipe!"
Sam/Samholio: "
OOOh - [b]Judge Judy/b] anyone???
Re: Bored of the Rings
quote:
Originally posted by outlawmws
I can't believe I haven't seen reference to this, so I have to presume most of you haven't seen the Harvard Lampoon parody titled Bored of the Rings.
That last one got cut off... (*&^%$#ing system...) but, probably just as well. I'd rather not assume FULL responsibility for the continued decline of Western society.
Still, since someone else asked:
"Meesa called Samwise Binks. Meesa your humble servant. Meesa be helpin' yousa to be destroyin' dat ring, okee-daye?"
I can't go on. It only gets worse from here...
So, to show that I'm not TOTALLY uncultured, a little more Gilbert & Sullivan, if you please:
I am the very model of the modern magus Mithrandir
I fought the Balrog in the chasm and was his extinguisher
I know who is the king to be and all Middle Earth's history
As well as all the lin-e-age that makes up Strider's ancestry
I ride upon the mearas that is known to you as Shadowfax
And fight Saruman's tyranny by leading Rohan in attacks
For guidance information about messing with a palantír
I am the very model of the modern magus Mithrandir
quote:
Originally posted by asterion
Could anyone do "We're Going to War" from Duck Soup?
Re: Bored of the Rings
quote:
Originally posted by outlawmws
I can't believe I haven't seen reference to this, so I have to presume most of you haven't seen the Harvard Lampoon parody titled Bored of the Rings. Published in 1969, it out-dates any one younger than forty-five or so. It was published by Signet if any of you want to search used bookstores, or www.alibris.com.
(Seriously, it is a real book!)
quote:
Originally posted by Qadgop the Mercotan
See what you started, Fingolfin? Anairë must be proud of you. Does she visit you in Mandos? Are there conjugal visits in Mandos?
Congrats on siring a mighty thread!
GLENFRODO GLEN ROSS
<A cadre of Uruk-hai sit in a room in the undercaverns of Orthanc>
Uruk 1: “What kind of fuckin' foolishness is this? A meeting? Tonight?”
Uruk 2: “The chief Nazgûl flew in this afternoon. Wants to talk to us about something.”
Uruk 1: “Great! We’re not eating any manflesh, now we gotta listen to some Ringwraith shoot his mouth off. Buncha fuckin' nonsense…”
Uruk 3 (muttering to himself): “I can’t find them! I don’t know where their hidey-holes are… I don’t know… I can’t find them!”
Uruk 2: “Of course not! None of us can. We need the good leads: the Glenfrodo leads.”
<Outside the room, the Witch-king speaks with Saruman>
Witch-king: “Are they all here?”
Saruman: “No, Lertz never checked in…”
Witch-king: “Screw it! I'm going in anyway…”
<The Witch-king stalks to the head of the room. All Uruk-hai turn toward him as he begins to speak>
Witch-king: “All right, gentlemen. Let’s talk turkey…”
Uruk 1 (interrupting): “What a minute! Hey, what the hell is this? Lertz is on top of the big board so he doesn't have to be here for this crap?”
<Saruman appears at the door>
Saruman: “Sit down, Grishnákh, and pay attention!”
Uruk 1/Grishnákh: “I don't have to sit here and listen to this!”
Witch-king: "Oh yes you do, pal, because I’m here as a favor to Sauron! That’s right, I'm here from Murray Sauron downtown. He personally asked me to come down here and give you a little news: we're adding something new to this month’s contest. As you know, first prize is a brand new hobbit slave. Know what second prize is? Second prize is a set of flensing knives. Third prize is you’re thrown to Shelob…! Oh, do I have your attention now?”
<The Witch-king notices one of the orcs eating something that looks like a haunch of meat>
Witch-king (shouting): “Put that thing down!”
Uruk 3: “I was just...”
Witch-king: “You think I’m fucking with you? I am not fucking with you... Horseflesh is for closers. Your name's Uglúk, right?”
Uruk 3/Uglúk: “Yeah.”
Witch-king: “You call yourself an Uruk-hai, you fucking elf-lord? All of you! You bunch of worthless bums! You bunch of women! Hunting hobbits is a goblin-man’s job. If you can't cut it, then step aside for someone else who can.”
Uruk 2: “But our leads are no good! We need the new leads: the Glenfrodo leads!”
Witch-king: “What, these?”
<The Witch-king brandishes some scrolls>
Witch-king: “These are the new leads. To you, they’re like gold, but you can't have them. Giving them to you is like… throwing them away. Murray Sauron paid good money for the leads you’ve got, gentlemen… Use them!
Uruk 3/Uglúk: “But they’re old! I can't… I can't find them! The elves are helping them… the trail is cold!”
Witch-king: “Screw you pal! Your excuses are your own! I can go out tonight with the leads you got and hunt down six or seven hobbits… tonight!”
<Uruk 1/Grishnákh laughs>
Ringwraith: “You, Grishnákh. What's your beef?”
Uruk 1/Grishnákh: “Who are you, huh? You're such a big badass? If you could do that, then why are you here wasting time with us hard luck cases?”
Witch-king: “Who am I? I'll tell you who I am...”
<The Witch-king approaches Grishnákh and whips out his Morgul knife>
Witch-king: “You see this blade? This knife costs more than your life. That's who I am. I flew over here on a winged serpent and you rode here on a warg… a flea-bitten, ratty-eared warg with a bad leg that you probably borrowed from your mother. Last year I terrorized more than 3,000 halflings. What'd you clear last year? Huh? As for why I'm here, I’m doing this because Sauron asked me to as a favor to him. I said, ‘If you really want me to do you a favor, then let me shoot Grishnákh in the hand with an arrow and run him through with a Rohirrim spear because a loser is a loser…’”
<The Witch-king moves over to a blackboard and begins writing on it>
Witch-king: “A... B... S… A: ‘Always…’ B: ‘Be…’ S: ‘Searching…’ Always Be Searching. ALWAYS BE SEARCHING! Hobbits are using half-starved ponies, hiding out in filthy, run-down dwarven ruins, and taking advice from senile, graying wizards! They have a collective death wish! They want to give you their scalps! Are you going to take them? Are you man enough to take them? If not you're gonna be cleaning up after my steed! Think you're a big goblin-man? Big deal! Like to strangle smaller goblins for waking you up outta the mud pool? So what! Hey kids: Fuck you! Go to the Shire and shoot off some fireworks!
<The Witch-king’s tone becomes more condescending>
Witch-king: “Years from now, you’ll have gone over to Rohan’s side... buncha losers hanging around Edoras, changing Théoden’s diaper, helping kids cross the street, saying ‘Oh, yeah. I used to work for Sauron… tough racket.’ Mark my words, gentlemen, lest this be your fate.”
<The Witch-king leaves. Uruk 3/Uglúk shakes his head>
Uruk 3/Uglúk: “We're doomed.”
Uruk 1/Grishnákh: “Don't worry about it. He's fulla shit…”
First Go
Saruman Deus. By J.R.R. Shelly
I MET a Grey Pilgrim from an antique land,
Who said, "One vast and sorcerous shaft of stone
Stands in Isengard. Near it, on the ground,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Saruman, of many colours.
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!"
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The green and ancient Fangorn stretches far away.
MoFo
PS the Milton one is still my favourite... hurl'd down into perdition indeed!
A little Goethe, perhaps?
Der Ring der Energie (The Ring of Power)
Who rides so late through night and gloom?
It's three hobbits, in search of Mt. Doom
One holds the One Ring tight in his arms
He clasps it snugly to keep it from harm.
"Frodo, why hide you your face with such fear?"
"Can't you see the Nazgul, Sam? Merry? They're near!
The nine riding Nazgul with swords and black hoods!"
"Frodo, it's just shadows deep in the woods."
'Come back! Come back! To Mordor we'll take you.
Wherever you run, we shall follow too;
You've something of Saurons and he wants it back,
So give us the One Ring or we shall attack.'
"Aragorn, Aragorn and can you not hear
the Nazgul, whose threats fill me with such fear?"
"Calm down, Frodo. Wounds have made you not well.
I hear only the wind as we near Rivendell."
'Give back my preciousss, it belongs to me
It was stolen by another Hobbit, you see.
This journey is madness, it's only a ring.
Instead, just destroy that glowing sword, Sting.'
"Samwise, Samwise can you not see,
the visage of Gollum, who stands before me?"
"My Frodo, my Frodo, I see it just fine.
It's not Gollum, but a forest of pine."
'I want you, your cleverness charms me, of course.
If you'll not relent, then I'll take it by force."
"Boromir, Boromir, you're hurting my arm.
I must slip on the ring to vanish from harm."
The fellowship struggles, they come with great speed,
The horn of Gondor sounded and they must take heed.
They rush to their fallen companion with dread,-
The stuart of Gondor, Boromir, was dead.
Re: Bored of the Rings
quote:
Originally posted by outlawmws
I can't believe I haven't seen reference to this, so I have to presume most of you haven't seen the Harvard Lampoon parody titled Bored of the Rings. Published in 1969, it out-dates any one younger than forty-five or so.
I think this loses the essence of Lewis Carroll, but WTF... I enjoyed writing it anyway...
THE HACKERJOCK
'Twas Gimli and slimy orcs
Did battle and grumble in the way
All flimsy were the Hornburg doors
And in the end, they gave
"Beware the Uruk-hai my dwarf!
The sword that strikes,
the voice that bellows
Beware the crebain bird,
and shun
The wizard he follows!"
He took his mighty axe in hand:
Long time Legolas' count he sought
So rested Gimli by Hornburg's walls,
And stood awhile in thought
And as a gruffish dwarf he stood,
The Uruk-hai, with torch aflame,
Came marching up with rams of wood,
And roaring as he came!
One, two! One, two!
And through and through
The mighty axe went snicker-snack!
He left them dead,
with count of head
He went brazenly back.
"And hast thou slain the Uruk-hai?
Come to my arms, my dwarvish boy!
O fabulous day!
I think I'm gay!"
Said Legolas in joy.
'Twas Gimli and slimy orcs
Did battle and grumble in the way
All flimsy were the Hornburg doors
And in the end, they gave
Civilization and its Torus Phalic Objects
A little Freud might help this thread along nicely.
It is clear that the fascination with the ring of power is merely a compensatory act. It goes straight back to the argument about which man’s club is bigger or as the crude might say it, who has the largest penis. This is what has commonly become known (largely thanks to my writings) as penis envy. It is clear that what Boromir is truly after is not the power to save and preserve his people, but rather the ability to prove that he has the largest libido. This is also clear as the only people who turn down the ring are either (in the case of Faramir) a well-balanced youth who does not need such toys to feel confident in his sexuality, or old to the point that sex is no longer a large concern in their lives (Gandalf and Galadriel). In the case of those that do not need this status symbol, they wish for it to be destroyed so that they can promote their sexually repressive society with fewer interferences. Gondor and Lorien both seemed to thrive in the absence of this ring and perhaps their rulers have come to the conclusion that chastity is the secret to order in a rapidly modernizing world.
An excerpt from "The Golden Ring" by Henry James.
Upon it's arrival at the platform which abutted the bank of the river, the barge disgorged several passengers, among them a tall gentleman, noble of bearing and appearance, who strode upon the planks in a way which marked him, along with his various and sundry accoutrements, as a man of war and the various martial arts and disciplines. Our friend was a tall fellow, his mustaches full and flowing, his face untouched as of late, by the steel of a blade. He was also rather hirsute, as befits a person of his bearing and avocation.
As he stood to gather his bearings, from the crowd of well-wishers and others who made up the confabulation of the dock, there stepped a tall and very striking lady, clad in shimmering robes and dress. She was of excellent disposition, her toilet being one of exquisite preparation and sublime effect. She strode upon the deck in a manner that was almost, one could even venture to say, purposeful. As she approached him, he thought to make a declaration, but, seeing the uncommonly serious and even stark expression she carried upon her visage, he hung fire.
"Strider, my dear. It is so good to see you again," she declared to him, her voice a pleasing lilt, as she smiled in an ever so gentle manner upon him. "My Father sends his regards." The young man could only barely contain an inward reaction to the effrotery with which it must have taken the elderly gentleman to entrust his beloved Daughter to pass this missive along to him. In his heart of hearts, Strider had begun to approch a belief that this gentleman had little regard for, and even a marked lack of respect, for him and his feelings, which were of the deepest and most sturdy sort, for his Elfin Daughter. It was widely rumored among those who trafficked in such scurrilous matters, that the old gentleman had even caused it to be arranged in his will and testament that Strider was to come into none of his Daughter's gold, nor any of her vast lands and properties, upon the Father's demise...
umm... I thought about it some more and realized it would be funnier to have Hob Dylan singing
"To be stuck here on top of Orthanc with the Minas blues again"
(Memphis... Minas... Get it? Oh well....)
Thanks, lastin, I would love to accomplish that but it will take a lot of thought. "Subterranean" is so lyrically intricate.
Now, I'll be the first to say it. We need a good Harlan Ellison parody. Anybody feel up to that? Maybe "Repent, Bombadil!" Said the Morgulman ... or From Tinco to Úre in the Chocolate Tengwar ...?
[QUOTE]Originally posted by tiernadris
[B]JiHymas, your P.G. Wodehouse was hilarious! I couldn't stop laughing!
Also the Cremation of Sam Gamgee was great too... mind if I copy that? It was brilliant...
I'd be flattered!
LOTR by Stone and Parker
Balrog: Roar! Roar!
Gandalf: Mmumm mmum mmmm mumm muummm mummm
Balrog grabs Gandalf and bites off his head.
Frodo: Oh my God! You killed Gandalf!
Aragorn: You bastard!
quote:
Originally posted by Jomo Mojo
Now, I'll be the first to say it. We need a good Harlan Ellison parody. Anybody feel up to that? Maybe "Repent, Bombadil!" Said the Morgulman ... or From Tinco to Úre in the Chocolate Tengwar ...?
RE: Bored of the Rings
This actually got re-released. It's in a very nice paperback edition you can pick up at any bookstore.
I still have my battered copy from the 70s. It's hysterical. Must reading for anyone interested in Tolkien!
That line: "Pity I've run out of bullet"! Damn, every time I see FOTR, that line runs through my head. LOL!
Seuss -- unfortunately not mine
By "Whistler". Not me. Unfortunately.
GREEN EGGS AND LEMBAS
Excerpt from a screenplay for THE LORD OF THE RINGS
by Dr. Seuss
(Scene: Bag End, after Bilbo’s party)
GANDALF:
That Samwise-Sam! That Samwise-Sam!
I do not like that Samwise-Sam!
FRODO:
Would you like some bread and jam?
GANDALF:
I do not want your bread and jam.
I’m busy being mad at Sam.
He likes to sneak. He likes to spy.
I’ll grind him up for hobbit pie!
FRODO:
Oh, do not grind him up for pie!
He is a pretty handy guy.
He mows my grass. He paints my gate.
He is my friend. We both are straight.
GANDALF:
Well, then, I will not grind up Sam!
Bring me bread, and bring me jam!
We’ll talk about another thing.
Tell me, do you have the ring?
FRODO:
I have the ring. I have it here.
But, mercy me! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
I fear the ring is very bad,
The golden ring that Bilbo had!
Tell me, will you take the ring?
GANDALF:
I will not take that evil thing!
FRODO:
Would you, could you, by the fire?
Would you, could you, in the Shire?
GANDALF:
I would not, could not, by the fire.
I would not, could not, in the Shire.
FRODO:
Would you, could you, in a tree?
Would you, on the road to Bree?
Would you, with an orc or troll?
Would you, in a hobbit-hole?
GANDALF:
I would not, could not, in a tree.
I would not, on the road to Bree.
I would not, with an orc or troll.
I would not, in a hobbit-hole.
I will not take it here or there,
I will not take it anywhere!
For it is bad. It’s as you say.
You’ll have to take that ring away
And throw it in the Cracks of Doom!
FRODO:
I’ll need a friend. But who, or whom?
(Gandalf produces Sam, who has been spying)
SAM:
Oh, Master! Master! Sam is here!
He’ll wash me down with beer, I fear!
I do not wish to be a pie!
GANDALF:
I will not eat you, little spy!
But I will send you far away.
You both will go away today.
You’ll go to Bree. A man is there.
The man looks foul. The man feels fair.
He’ll lead you both, if all goes well,
To meet the elves in Rivendell.
SAM:
Oh, Master! We will meet the elves!
We’ll get to meet the elves ourselves
And hear them sing their elven songs!
We’ll hear them bong their elven-gongs
And strum their elven loola-lutes!
They’ll hoot their elven hooty-toots!
GANDALF:
I hope you’ll hear those loola-lutes
And hear the hoots of hooty-toots!
But go with care. To be a pie
Is better than to meet the Eye!
The Eye is mean. The Eye is red.
He rules nine Riders. They are dead.
They’ll try to make you dead, as well.
But will they catch you? Time will tell!
FRODO:
Oh, dear! Oh, dear! This is a mess!
We’ll have to fix this mess, I guess.
So we will go, just Sam and me.
And what will happen? We will see!
(Fade)
OK, I got it done. Here's a song from Hob Dylan's album Strawhead on Strawhead
Oh, Saruman draws circles
Up and down Isengard
I'd ask him what the matter was
But I know that I'd get scarred
And the Dwarves treat me kindly
And furnish me with cram
But deep inside my heart
I know that I can't scram
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Well, Gandalf, he's in the attic
With his pointed hat and his staff,
Speaking to some Uruk
Who say I make them laugh
And I would send a message
To find out what Baggins has got
But the Pony has been raided
And Butterbur has forgot
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Ferny tried to tell me
To stay away from the Greenway rail
He said that all the half-Orc Men
Just drink up your blood like ale
And I said, "Oh, I didn't know that,
But then again, there's only one I see'd
And he just smoked my helmet
And smote my pipe-weed"
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Denethor died last week
And now he's buried in the rocks
But everybody still talks about
How badly they were shocked
But me, I expected it to happen,
I knew he'd lost control
When he built a pyre on Rath Dínen
And smote Beregond full of holes.
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Now the Witch-King came down here
Showing ev'ryone his sword
Handing out free tickets
To the crossing of the ford
And me, I nearly got punctured
And wouldn't it be my doom
To get caught without a ticket
And discovered beneath Balin's tomb
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Now Saruman gave me two cures
Then he said, "Go right ahead"
The one was Orkish medicine
The other was just lembas bread
And like a fool I mixed them
And it muddled up my lore
And now Olog just get uglier
And I have no miruvor
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Beruthiel says come see her
In her Belfalas lagoon
Where I can watch her Springle-Ring
'Neath her Harondorian moon
And I say, "Oh, fie on you
You must know about my Nimrodel"
And she says, "Your Nimrodel just knows the woods
But I know the Bay of Bel"
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Now the stonework on Rath Celerdain
Where the sable soldiers marched
It's all built there so perfectly
It all seems so well arched
And here I sit so patiently
Waiting to find out what spell
You have to know to get out of
Going through this doom so fell.
Oh, Gwaihir, can this really be the end
To be stuck on top of Orthanc
With the Minas blues again
Lord of the Rings as written by Emily Dickinson
[all that remains is this fragment, found in a diary]
A hobbit, a mere hobbit
That ventured far from the shire
Entrusted with --
the keeping of
-- a ring of power
Found adventures beyond his dreams
-- where Death was unknown
-- he made acquaintance
of creatures great and terrible
ever still holding on--
to the ring of power--
__________________
Ali
Where Wonderland meets reality: http://stormy-night.org
Archivist, JoeStories Archive: http://stormy-night.org/joestories.html
"I used to be Snow White, but then I drifted." - Mae West
Re: The Hackerjock
quote:
Originally posted by Zanzibar
I think this loses the essence of Lewis Carroll, but WTF... I enjoyed writing it anyway...
THE HACKERJOCK
'Twas Gimli and slimy orcs
Did battle and grumble in the way
All flimsy were the Hornburg doors
And in the end, they gave
ave [snipped for brevity]
__________________
Ali
Where Wonderland meets reality: http://stormy-night.org
Archivist, JoeStories Archive: http://stormy-night.org/joestories.html
"I used to be Snow White, but then I drifted." - Mae West
Who's hill this is, I think I know,
He's traveling to Elrond's though;
He will not see me stopping here
To show the ring to young Frodo.
The hobbits all must think it queer,
To stop without a party near,
Down by the Shire's only lake,
With the best food served of all year.
Sam, hiding, makes the shrubbery shake,
And 'cross his head my staff I break,
The only other sound's his weep,
And his complaint of strong headache.
The Shire is lovely, dark and deep,
But we have promises to keep,
And miles to go before we sleep,
And miles to go before we sleep.
--Stopping By the Shire on a Desperate Evening, Robert Frost
(My apologies if anyone else did Frost and I missed it)
quote:
Originally posted by Pucky Schumer
Wait, wait. I got it:
Michael Flatley's Lord of the Ring
Tap tap tap tap.
Clomp cla clomp clomp.
Clomp clompa Clomp clompa Clomp clompa Clomp clompa CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP...
edit: CLOMP x lots
(massive ovation.)
Just one more, I promise...
(I suspect that, as a newcomer to this forum, I fear I may have exceded my allotment of posts...
)
If LotR had been written by Herman Melville (opening line):
"Call me Elessar."
lastin
Re: Seuss -- unfortunately not mine
quote:
Originally posted by Shastachan
FRODO:
[...]
He is my friend. We both are straight.
A little Dylan Thomas, perhaps?
A couple of days late, but here's a seasonal offering for you all. I assume most of you are familiar with "A Child's Christmas in Wales." Anyway, here you go. Merry Christmas!
An Elf's Christmas in Mirkwood, by Dylan "Legolas" Thomas
One Age was so much like another, in those years around the depths of the Mirkwood now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether I slaughtered forty-one orcs in forty-one minutes at Helm's Deep or whether I slaughtered twenty goblins in twenty minutes in the Mines of Moria.
All the Ages roll down toward the western sea, like the fairest and wisest elves gliding through the glades of Lorien; and they stop at the rim of the gull-crying sad-singing waves, and I plunge my hands in the depths and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that glory-gold horn-throated pool of heroes' names resting at the rim of the west-wending sea, and out comes Master Frodo and the ring.
Next on Dylan Thomas Does Tolkein: "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Vile Mine."
quote:
Originally posted by PocketGodzilla
Who's hill this is, I think I know,
He's traveling to Elrond's though;
He will not see me stopping here
To show the ring to young Frodo.
--Stopping By the Shire on a Desperate Evening, Robert Frost
(My apologies if anyone else did Frost and I missed it)
quote:
Originally posted by Zanzibar
So, to show that I'm not TOTALLY uncultured, a little more Gilbert & Sullivan, if you please:
I am the very model of the modern magus Mithrandir
I fought the Balrog in the chasm and was his extinguisher...
Little Hobbits, by Louisa May Tolkien
Chapter One: Playing Ringbearers
"Our stay at the Prancing Pony won't be very nice without Gandalf," grumbled Frodo, sitting at the table.
"It's so dreadful to be left alone!" sighed Merry, looking down at his pint of ale.
"I don't think it's fair for some hobbits to have plenty of ale, and other hobbits nothing at all," added little Pippin, with an injured sniff.
"We've got Bilbo and Gandalf and each other," said Sam contentedly from his corner.
The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Frodo said sadly:
"We haven't got Bilbo, and shall not have him for a long time." He didn't say "perhaps never," but each silently added it, thinking of Bilbo far away, where the elves were.
Nobody spoke for a minute; then Merry said in an altered tone:
"You know the reason Gandalf proposed meeting us here in Bree was because Frodo had to get out of the Shire, and he thinks we ought not to complain because we're alone in a strange place with a ring that everyone seems to be looking for. We can't do much, being hobbits, but we can make our little sacrifices, and ought to do it gladly. But I am afraid I don't"; and Merry shook his head as he thought regretfully of all the nice meals he was missing in his hole back in the Shire.
"But I don't think the little we could do would do any good. I'm scared, and I've got my ring, and I think I'll put it on." Frodo immediately sat up, put his hands in his pockets, and began fumbling for the ring.
"Don't, Frodo; it's so strange when you disappear!"
"That's why I do it."
"I detest rude, unhobbitlike hobbits!"
"I hate affected, niminy-piminy chits!"
" 'Birds in their little nests agree,' "sang Sam, the peacemaker, with such a funny face that both sharp voices softened to a laugh, and the "pecking" ended for that time.
"Really, my friends, you are both to be blamed," said Merry, beginning to lecture in his elderly-hobbitly fashion. "You are old enough to leave off such tricks and behave better, Frodo Baggins. It didn't matter so much when you were safe in the Shire; but now we're in Bree, and we're alone, and you should remember that you must keep the ring secret."
"I don't want to! And if disappearing makes me unhobbitlike, I'll do it again and again until I disappear altogether," cried Frodo, stuffing his ring back into his pocket.
"As for you, Pippin," continued Merry, "you are altogether too foolish and silly. Your ways are funny now; but you'll get yourself into a world of trouble someday if you don't take care."
"If Frodo is rude and Pippin a fool, what am I, please?" asked Sam, ready to share the lecture.
"You're a dear, and nothing else," answered Merry warmly.
"Glad to find you so merry, my hobbits," said a rough, sarcastic voice behind them, and the hobbits turned to see a tall, disheveled man, with a "I'd-soon-kill-you-as-look-at-you" look about him which was truly frightening. He was not elegantly dressed, but a noble-looking man for all that, and the hobbits thought the black cloak and unfashionable attire covered the most fearsome individual in all Middle Earth.
"I am called Strider, and you must come with me. You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill," he rasped, looking pointedly at Frodo. "I bear a message from Gandalf."
A quick, bright smile went round like a streak of sunshine. Sam clapped his hands, regardless of the biscuit he held, and Frodo tossed up his ring, crying, "A message! a message! Three cheers for Gandalf!"
"Yes, a short message. He is delayed, and he wishes you to come with me to Rivendell. Put that back in your pocket, Frodo!"
"Hurry and get packed! Don't stop to drink your last pint, Pippin! We're going to see the elves!" cried Frodo, choking on his ale, and dropping his bread, butter side down, on the floor, in his haste to be gone.
The SpellRinger: The Age of Man By A.D.F. Tolkien
(Apologies to the best fantasy writer since Master Tolkien)
Fro-Bo, the Hobbit, and his trusty sidekick Mudgewise the otter were approaching Bree-Town. It was a few miles outside of the Bellwood where Fro-Bo lived with his wizzard mentor, the turtle Gandalthahump.
"Now now, Mate. I know you've never been in a town this big,so let me go get a 'feel' for the place." His agile otter legs carried him faster than the short legged Hobbit liked.
"No thanks Mudge. I know you well enough to know the first thing you'd be 'feeling' is up the skirt of some poor lasses' dress." He shifted his musical insturment across his back and redoubled his effort to keep up with his energetic companion.
"Ach!" Mudgewise acted injured. "you hurt me to the quick Mate." Lowering his head , he kicked a stone. "Actually I was consiterin' where we might scare up our next meal. Maybe something to wet the ol' whistle?"
"Is that all you think of? Eating? Drinking? and wenching?" The Hobbit asked
"No," he hesitated, "not nessisarly in that order." The otter dodged to avoid a swing from Fro-Bo's ramwood staff.
*********
Latter, after they'd both had thier fill of some very fine food served by thier old friend Dorcasburr at her inn The Prancing Hinney they patted thier tummies and were consitering bellying up to the bar when they were joined by thier old friend Merryroar the tigress. "Ah do declare!" She threw he muscular arms around Fro-Bo. "I ain't seen ya all inna coons age! What are ya all doin' in these parts? Last I heard yo'd found yo'self a way home."
Fro-Bo had to extracate himself from her hairy arms and catch his breath before he could explain that yes indeed he had found a cave that lead him home. But, he had returned to be with his true love and his family back in the Bellwoods.
"Stupid naked monkey." Mudge refered to the Hobbit. "I trapsed all over this world to help 'im find 'is way home. Listened to 'im whine about how he missed 'is beloved L.A. Where did it get his old and best pal?" The remark made Fro-Bo feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "I've been tied up, almost cooked...twice even," he counted on his fingers. "Shat at, locked up, and generaly inconvienced."
"Yes, but how many people can say they have," The Hobbit began counting on his own fingers, "Flied on a Pegasus, sailed the seas, saved the world...twice even! Visited far away lands, rode a comet, and generaly had a good time."
"Good point Mate. Now, I'm off to find a Barwench."
*********
Fro-Bo, Mudgewise, and Merryroar gathered for breakfast where they were joined by Colingrine Snook, the koala and the wizzard Gandathahump.
After explaining the history of the ring, he inserted it into a small metal tube and hung it on Fro-Bos kneck. "You must fulfill this quest for me my boy. I can not trust the task to anyone else. Evil forces are afoot."
"Why is it everything is a disaster of epic porportions?" Fro-Bo asked suspiciously knowing the wizzards dotty talent for overstatement. "Can't we ever have a minor emergency? Why must evil forces always be afoot?"
The otter began giggling. "You've seen evil forces before Mate. You know they're rotten fliers."
The wizzard interuped the laughter. "You have to run this errand. That's all it is, just a little errand."
All eyes turned to the wizzard as Fro-Bo spoke. "Last time you asked me to run an errand," The Hobbit sighed, " the fate of civilization was at stake."
Awhile back on the list, someone requested a Rush Limbaugh take. Don't cringe too badly at it for it is a feeble attempt...
Rush: "And now we go to Frodo Baggins from the Shire. Greetings caller, you're with the Rush Limbaugh show on the E.I.B. network."
Frodo: "Yes, Rush. Mega dittos from the Shire even though I am calling from Rivendell."
Rush: "Rivendell? Is that near New Jersey?"
Frodo: "I'm afraid not. I would say it's a great distance from there. I would like to know your thoughts about the odds of a small group of adventurers avoiding entire armies of evil and successfully reaching their goal of destroying the one true Ring."
Rush: "Small group, eh? Sounds like you're facing an army of Democrats. What's this about a one true Ring? Can you tell me more about it?"
Frodo: "Well, it used to belong to a really bad guy named Sauron and now he wants it back. This ring actually controls nine other rigns and the people who wear them. It corrupts them and makes their souls evil in the long run. I guess you could say the ring acts on your mind and tries to control it."
Rush: "So this one ring actually controls the others and it exrts a form of mond control to make the wearer do as it pleases? Now's there's an excuse I bet Bill Clinton wishes he would have thought of during the Monica Lewinsky scandal. So how is it you are not being controlled by the ring?"
Frodo: "Well, for some reason, we Baggins seem to be immune to the ring's effects. For awhile, at least. It seems to have an effect on others in my group. Boromir for starters. He's been eyeing the ring ever since he stood up and made his speech about using the ring's powers for the good of Gondor."
Rush: "Who is this Boromir?"
Frodo: "He's the son of the current king of Gondor. He really believes that he can control the ring's powers."
Rush: "So he believes that one person should decide the fate of many others? And that he knows what is right for his people? Sounds like a guy to keep an eye on if you ask me. Who else is travelling in your group?"
Frodo: "Well, there's Gandalf, who's the one that started this whole thing by insisting the ring be destroyed. Then there's Aragorn, a noble ranger. Legolas is an elf that is from Rivendell. Finally, Gimli, a dwarf who wants us to travel through the mines of Moria, which his kin run."
Rush: "Wait a minute. You said an elf and a dwarf are with you?"
Frodo: "Yes, that's right."
Rush: "So they are representing the oppressed races, is that correct?"
Frodo: "Yes."
Rush: "Sounds to me that what you have here is your classic good against evil conflict. Left wing liberals are on one side trying to tell people that they know what's best for them. On the other hand, a small group of right-minded conservatives are battling against injustice and trying to ensure that the freedoms of all people are maintained. The odds of this group reaching their goal are small but not unattainable. In the end, good always triumphs over evil, so we conservatives will always triumph over liberalism as long as the message doesn't get lost. Did that answer your question?"
Frodo: "Uh, I think so. Thanks."
Rush: "My pleasure. Good luck on your quest. My next caller is Sauron from Mordor. Man, are we getting the odd locations today or what..."
Re:If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!?
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the picturesque grassy lanes (for it is in Hobbiton that our scene lies), rattling along the Hobbit holes, and fiercely agitating the scanty shoots of garden produce that struggled against the deluge."
--Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Frodo Baggins (1830).
Ask Gollum
Dear Gollum,
Lately, I've been getting these huge corns on my feet. They're big and round and touching them hurts to holy bejeezus! I'm not entirely sure what could have caused it, but Hubby says I should be more careful with the vitamin intake, you know... watch those Cs and Es! I've also been considering maybe getting those special soles I saw going cheap down at the sporting goods store, but I don't really know if that stuff will help me. In any case, I'm getting kind of desperate -- Hubby won't give me a foot massage with my feet the way they are, and I'm really starting to get that hankerin', if you know what I mean! What can I do?
-Winsome in Wisconsin
Dear Winsome,
Preeeeciousssss! My preeeeeciousssss! They've taken it away, they have!
They must have taken it! Wretched little Bagginsss-creature! Hissss! Gurgle!
Hisssssssssss!
Dear Gollum,
I've been out of the closet for 6 years now, and for most of that time my sexuality has never been a problem. Coming out was so much easier than I thought it would be; I'd expected much ado, if you know what I mean, but everyone was just so amazingly warm and receptive. It really made me feel loved and accepted. Well, the other day, my father suddenly decided that he doesn't want "no son of his" being "queer as a steer." Needless to say, I'm shocked, hurt and offended beyond belief, not to mention mortified -- I mean, he couldn't possibly have picked a worse time than my most important audition, like, ever! I'm finished in show business, but what's worse, my dad suddenly hates me! I just don't understand this! I'm so lost!
-Frantic in Fresno
Dear Frantic,
We had our precious right here, in our handses, and now it's gone! Gone! Preeeeciouss! My preeeeciouss!
We'll get that nasssty Bagginss! Sssspiteful, ssslimy little creature! It has my preeeciousss in its nasssty little pocketses! Hissss!
Thief! Thief! Baggins! We hates it! We hates it forever!
Gollum is a twisted abomination whose weekly advice column, Ask Gollum, appears in over 200 newspapers nationwide. His syndicated radio show, Losssst! Lllloooosssstt!, is now in its 2nd year running.
The Malignant Ring
or,
A Quest of Dubious Implication
by
G.R.R. Deedoway
(**with apologies to Edward Gorey)
PAGE 1
Image: A garden. Four Hobbits, two Men, a Wizard, an Elf and a Dwarf walking in a line. The Wizard wears a long, heavy fur coat, dark in color, and a floppy hat, and carries a staff and sword. One Man has a full beard, while the other has only a mustache - they both have long swords. The Elf has a bow and a sheaf of arrows, the Dwarf a broad axe. The Hobbits look like impish children with big, hairy feet. One Hobbit carries a small ring between his thumb and forefinger, and a short sword is at his side. A second carries a frying pan. The two Other Hobbits have short daggers. The Ring-bearer walks with his eyes on the ring. The other three Hobbits skip along, with a speech bubble over their heads that reads "Tra la la".
Caption: Nine companions set off to destroy an evil ring.
PAGE 2
Image: Still in the garden, with a large gorsebush in the background. The group is standing in a semi-circle around the Ring-bearer. His short sword is in his hand, point down, as he contemplates the ring in his other hand. The rest are brandishing their weapons, staff, and frying pan in salute. The Bearded Man points his sword in the direction of the Ring-bearer.
Caption: They thought they were ready for anything.
PAGE 3
Image: The same, but the Nine have departed. A long pointy nose can be seen sticking out from behind the gorse bush, and long, spindly fingers are apparent among the brambles.
Caption: Gollum watched them go.
PAGE 4
Image: The Nine, walking through a cave, peering about in all different directions.
Caption: They travelled through fields, mountains and mines
PAGE 5
Image: The Wizard, teetering with only one foot on a precipice, flames all around him.
Caption: Until Gandalf fell to the Balrog.
PAGE 6
Image: An Elf Queen with dark circles under her eyes stands in front of a pool. The Ring-bearer and Pan-wielder look at her with dread from the other side of the pool, the Ring-bearer holding the ring away from her. There is a large decorative Urn behind the pool.
Caption: Galadriel doubted their success.
PAGE 7
Image: The same. Elf Queen and Hobbits are gone. The spindly fingers are curled around the sides of the Urn, and the nose pokes out above them.
Caption: Gollum hoped she was right.
PAGE 8
Image: On a hill, the Bearded Man now stands with his sword raised in front of the Ring-bearer. The Ring-bearer has the ring half on, and lighter shading of parts of his form indicate that he is disappearing from sight as he runs away.
Caption: Then, Boromir betrayed them and tried to steal the ring
PAGE 9
Image: The Bearded Man on his knees, flocked with arrows. He stares directly at another arrow as it flies right at him.
Caption: But he expired
PAGE 10
Image: A view from behind of several hulking creatures running away. Two of them carry the two Other Hobbits, who reach back desperately.
Caption: And Merry and Pippin were carried off.
PAGE 11
Image: A grizzled old king on a throne with a pale, gaunt, small servant next to him. The servant has a serpent's tongue, which is tickling the king's ear.
Caption: Theoden's judgement was shadowed by a servant of Saruman.
PAGE 12
Image: The edge of a cliff. All that can be seen are the flailing legs of a large, hairy animal as it plunges over the far side.
Caption: Aragorn got in a tangle with a Warg, and was lost.
PAGE 13
Image: Inside another cave. The Elf and Dwarf are back to back facing opposite sides of the page. Facing the Dwarf is a tangle of bristling arrows. Facing the Elf is a bundle of menacing swords. Their weapons are drawn, their eyes wide.
Caption: Gimli and Legolas fared little better
PAGE 14
Image: The Mustache Man, Elf and Dwarf shield their eyes from a bright light, in the center of which stands the Wizard, who is now wearing a white fur coat and astride a white horse.
Caption: But Gandalf returned from whence no one knew.
PAGE 15
Image: The Ring-bearer (looking increasingly waifish) and the Pan-bearer are clambering through a maze of sharp rocks, while an Eye of Flame glares outward at the top of the page.
Caption: Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam struggled on to their Doom.
PAGE 16
Image: Same scene, but Hobbits and Eye are gone. The spindly fingers and nose can now be seen emerging from behind one of the rocks.
Caption: Gollum hoped they would find it.
PAGE 17
Image: The two Other Hobbits walk apprehensively through an eerie wood. Clawed tree branches reach toward them from behind.
Caption: Pippin and Merry were discovered by the Ents.
PAGE 18
Image: A tall, Gaunt Wizard with circles under his eyes stands on a turret balcony with the small, pale, gaunt servant, serpent's tongue flicking. They stare, wide-eyed, down towards the clawed branches reaching up to them.
Caption: Saruman and Wormtongue lived to rue the day.
PAGE 19
Image: The Mustache Man stands with darkened eyes, surrounded by spirits, ghouls, and undead, and a large black obelisk can be seen in the background to the right.
Caption: Aragorn called his dead army to him.
PAGE 20
Image: The smaller Other Hobbit and an armored soldier with the form of a woman and long hair flying from under her helm spar with a winged serpent, ridden by a cloaked figure.
Caption: Pippin and Eowyn came face to face with the Witch King
PAGE 21
Image: The Smaller Hobbit and Soldier-woman lie flat on the ground, eyes closed. The winged serpent is writhing in the background. The cloak, empty, lies between them.
Caption: And they were all stricken.
PAGE 22
Image: The Ring-bearer and Pan-wielder stand over a pit of flame. Pan-wielder looks passively into the pit. Ring-bearer's face is gaunt and terrible as he stares at the ring. There is a pile of rock shards on the opposite side of the pool from Ring-bearer.
Caption: Frodo went mad from the strain.
PAGE 23
Image: The same. Ring-bearer is again putting on the ring, and lighter shading on parts of him indicate that he is vanishing. The spindly fingers and nose protrude from the rock shard pile, the fingers reaching toward the Hobbits. Pan-wielder looks at them in horror. The Eye of Flame can be seen above them all.
Caption: Gollum had been for some time
PAGE 24
Image: The same. Ring-bearer is visible, and looks in shock at his hand, which is missing the ring finger. Spindly fingers and nose are gone. Pan-bearer stares wide-eyed into the pit of flame. At the top of the page, the Eye of Flame has become ashes which are blowing away.
Caption: But he and the ring met their end
PAGE 25
Image: All four Hobbits, Elf, and Dwarf are bowing to the Mustache Man, the White Wizard standing behind him. Man?s eyes are still ringed with darkness. Ring-bearer still looks waifish, gaunt, and stares off into the distance.
Caption: And the King returned.
PAGE 26
Image: Sarcophagus shaped like the Mustache Man. A glowing female figure stands beside it, veiled in mourning.
Caption: In time, he, too, would perish.
PAGE 27
Image: The Elf, last in a line of many other elves, all vanishing onto a ship, upon which can already be seen the White Wizard. The Hobbits and Dwarf watch them go. The Elf looks back at them regretfully.
Caption: The elves faded out of existence.
PAGE 28
Image: The same. Ring-bearer and his Uncle standing on the deck of the ship, waving to the other three Hobbits, who wave back. All others are gone.
Caption: Frodo and Bilbo went with them
PAGE 29
Image: The same. The ship is gone. The three Hobbits stare toward the space where it used to be.
Caption: And were never seen again.
PAGE 30
Image: The three Hobbits, holding tools, standing in front of a gray obelisk, Pan-wielder in the center.
Caption: Sam raised a memorial to them.
PAGE 31
Image: The same. The Hobbits are gone, the obelisk crumbling.
Caption: It faded, too.
END PAGE
Image: The same. A small, plain black doll leans against the crumbled obelisk. "THE END" is in large letters above it all.
Small nitpick
quote:
PAGE 20
Image: The smaller Other Hobbit and an armored soldier with the form of a woman
and long hair flying from under her helm spar with a winged serpent, ridden by a
cloaked figure.
Caption: Pippin and Eowyn came face to face with the Witch King
Wow, Epigramcracker! That was some Gilbert & Sullivan!
And what's another post without another contribution?
LotR by Winston Groom
Gollum come sneekin down th cliff an I jump him. He bite my sholder an grap my neck, so I hit him with my forhead but he dint leggo. Master Frodo saves my ass when he pulls Gollums hair an put Stinger underneeth his neck.
"Leggo Gollum!" he say "This is Stinger an you gonna feel it if you dont leggo!"
Gollum leggo my neck an fall down an start to cry an wimper an shit.
I say "Well, Mr. Frodo. What we gonna do with him? Tie him up?"
An he say to me "No, Sam. If we kill him, we gota kill him outrite. But we cant do that, not as thingsar. Poor retch! He done us no harm."
Master Frodo always had this way of splainin thangs so's I coud unnerstan them. I never worried none, jus say 'yes, Master Frodo.'
"Yes, Master Frodo."
***much later...***
Gollum brung us conees, so I skint and cleened them. I rubbed th coneys with erbs an stuff, an Gollum wunnerd what th fuck I waz doin, but I dint give a shit. I waved my nife at him an made him get watter in th pans so I coud cook them conees. Wen he brung the watter back an seen what I done, he hiss an spit jus like a ol snake.
"Hiss an spit!" he say to me an call me silly an foolish.
"Foolish is as foolish does" I say an start to cook them conees. "Get me some fucken taters" I tell him an he hiss an spit some more. He probly tell me "go fuck yerself" tho he dont say it out loud, so I tell him "Fuck it. Go to sleep."
"CARADHRAS"
by the Dunharrow Dead
(Sung to the tune of "Casey Jones")
Climbing that pass
High in morass
Caradhras, you better watch your snow
Blizzard ahead
Warg-wolves behind
And you know that Moria just crossed my mind
Well, crap. I wrote this while still reading page 1, before I got to Silvio's post. I think I'll post anyway:
In the evening, shadows fell around the two beautiful boys as they made their way across the fetid marsh. Mordor. Frodo, whose eyes were a bright clear blue and ringed round in smudged black eyeliner, suddenly stopped. The cool wind tousled his thick dark locks, the sandy brown roots under the cheap black dye barely visible in this light. He could see Gollum far ahead, nearly out of sight.
"I'm hungry, Sam," he whispered when his companion noticed that he was no longer walking with him.
Sam's full mouth looked red, wet in this light, smeared with crimson lipstick, and Frodo wondered what it would look like sliding over his dick, slick with spit. He would be able to taste ale on him, and pipeweed, like a beautiful Shire day. Sam shook his head, golden curls catching the faint light like a gleaming veil. "There's nothing but lembas left."
Frodo shuddered, his eyes burning with intense darkness. "We have to..." He moved closer, hands beginning to fumble with Sam's breeches, catching on the strings holding them together. "I need this. I need this. Sam."
A small spark of fear for his master struck in Sam's heart, and he stood still, allowing Frodo's fingers to slip over him. He had seen Frodo becoming weaker by the day, had seen the heavy burden weighing him down. His master was right: he did need this.
There was a sound in the darkness above them. Frodo looked up, up into that darkness, and saw the massive shape moving towards them. From under a bush...as it passed...he could make out the distorted sound of Bauhaus, Peter Murphy's low voice singing of kindoms coming.
From "Wrapped Around Your Finger," Poppy Z. Brite
Hamlet, by William Shakespeare
To wander or not to wander, this is my quest.
Whether it would be nobler in my mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of those outrageous Orks
Or to take my sword Sting against a sea of Raiths,
And their opponent Aragorn will end them. I'm dying, no sleep,
No more of this, I want this to end so I can sleep,
My heart and my feet ache from the thousand rocks
In my flesh and hair, I could consume a barrel of ale,
that's what I devoutly wish. I'm dead tired, I'm sleepy,
If I sleep, perchance I'll dream of the Shire, ay Sam you lug,
In a dead like sleep before the fire what dreams may come,
When I have shrugged off these prosthetic feet and these curls,
These feet are more like paws. I don't get no respect,
This trip's a calamity, as long as a lifetime,
I beared the whips and scorns of that thing down in Moria,
Sauron my wrong oppressor, Boromir that proud man,
Merry and Pip those prized fools, fat Sam's delay,
The insolent Legolas and his spurning bow,
I have no patience or merit, I'm so unworthy,
I think I myself might make my mind quiet
With this bare sword. Who would burdens bear
To grunt and sweat under this weary camping gear
But that the dread of something after Mount Doom
The undiscovered pit where the ring was born
No traveler returns or can solve this puzzle
But I would rather bear the ills of this snowy mountain
Than fly up to that eye I know not of.
My conscience has made me a little coward,
Where did my native hue of resolution go,
My thoughts have become pale and sickly,
This momentous enterprise to pitch the ring,
Thank God I made it over the currents of the ford,
But I lost some action with Arwen. Slowly now,
The flabby Sam, nymph when you make elevensies,
Remember to give me my share.
Re: Small nitpick
quote:
Originally posted by lastin
Ummm...sorry, EleisaWolf, but it was Merry who helped Eowyn defeat the Lord of the Nazgul. Pippin was in Minas Tirith trying to stop Denethor from burning himself and Faramir on a pyre.
lastin (just call me anal-retentive)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high, o'er Dale
When all at once, I saw a crowd
A host of juicy men and dwarves
Ten thousand slew I with narry a glance
Fluttering and dancing, in the breeze
...
When oft on my hoard I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood.
Up into the skies I fly
To hunt those pesky men for food.
And then with glory my heart fills
And I have to trample those damn daffodils.
Wordsworth as Smaug
http://marco.vectorstar.net
an alternative ending to LOTR in the form of an old Irish (and rather morbid and macabre) song. (Rickety Tickety Tin, this doesn't do it justice by half!)
Rickety Tickety Ring
About a Ring I'll sing a song, sing "rickety tickety ring"
about a Ring I'll sing a song, who did not have it's owner's long.
Not only did it do them wrong,
It did every last one of them in, them in,
It did every last one of them in.
One day in a fit of pique, sing "rickety tickety ring"
One day in a fit of pique, it drowned King Isildur in the creek,
The water tasted bad for a week,
and the orcs had to make due with gin, with gin
And the orcs had to make due with gin
Gollum's friend, it could not stand, sing "rickety tickety ring"
Gollum's friend, it could not stand, and so arsenic fish one day Gollum planned
His friend died with a fish in his hand
And his face in a hideous grin, a grin
And his face in a hideous grin.
It weighted Gollum down like stones, sinf "rickety tickety Ring"
It weighted Gollum down like stones, and sent him off to Davy Jones
And all they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
And occasional pieces of skin
It set Bilbo's hair on fire, sing "rickety tickety Ring"
It set Bilbo's hair on fire, and as the flames grew higher and higher
It gleamed 'round the funeral pyre
playing the tune of a violin, -olin
playing the tune of a violin
And as poor Frodo tried to run, sing "rickety tickety ring"
And as poor Frodo tried to run, the Nazgul shot Frodo with a gun,
And left his remains to dry in the sun,
And took the ring for himself, himself
And took the ring for himself.
When at last Lord Sauron came by, sing "rickety tickety ring"
When at last Lord Sauron came by, it's evil pranks it did not deny
For to do so, it would have to lie!
And lying it knew was a sin, a sin,
And lying it knew was a sin
My tragic tale I wont prolong, sing "rickety tickety Ring"
My tragic tale I won't prolong, and if you did not like my song,
You've yourselves to blame for it being so long!
You should have never let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin
That "old Irish song" was written in the early 60s by Tom Lehrer, a rather brilliant parody master in his own right.
Newbie trying it out...
*Iff'n I don't get to it, I'd suggest someone try a Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles version of LOTR... *
~Dr. Seus, with a bit from The Cat in the Hat Comes Back.....~
The water ran out.
And then I saw the Ring!
A ring in the tub!
And, oh boy what a thing!
A shiny, gold one ring!
The letter like orange ink!
And I said, "Will this be
destroyed? I don't think!"
~And, a section of The Nazgul Before Christmas in light of the holiday season....~
Mount Doom on the crest of the new fallen ash
gave the luster of midday Elbereth hid in her cache.
When what to my wondering eyes appeared on this Yule
but a miniature sleigh and nine horsed Nazgul,
with a dark lord driver so terrible as the dawn
I knew in a moment it must be Sauron.
More rapid than eagles his Nazgul they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder and Blitsen!
To the top off Mount Doom! To my home tower tall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
__________________
~Fuzzy-sama~
"Is that more than my cats?" -Logan's Run-
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."-LOTR: FOTR-
The Song of Frodo Baggins
And how about an effort from Longfellow?
Middle Earth our hero's birthplace
Little one, endearing hobbit
Living under fertile topsoil
Where the worms and earwigs wander
In a hole of charm and comfort
Happy home of hobbit Bilbo.
Very dear to Bilbo Baggins
Was his nephew, name of Frodo
He the heir to Bilbo's spirit
He the bearer of the One Ring
For he travelled through the country
Journeyed on with his companions
Met with elves and ents and goblins
From the place from which he started
Down the road of high adventure
Ever onward from his front door
Ever onward into Mordor....
quote:
Originally posted by Ghostwind
Awhile back on the list, someone requested a Rush Limbaugh take.
Rush: "Rivendell? Is that near New Jersey?"
Loved your Edward George Bulwer-Lytton version!
Funny, there is a set of apartments locally that are near some powerlines. That is soooo NJ it isn't funny.
Yes, it is.
quote:
Originally posted by AckThud
Funny, there is a set of apartments locally that are near some powerlines. That is soooo NJ it isn't funny.
Yes, it is.
Bulwer-Lytton part Dieux LOL
...because someone actually requested it....
So, what if J.R.R. had decided to enter the opening sentence of LOtR as part of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest?
********
When Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Esquire, of Bag End, H----, announced that he would shortly be celebrating the eleventh annniversary of his centenary year with an affair of singular magnificence, there was much discourse and ebullition in H----, for Bilbo was very affluent and very eccentric and had been the wonder of the Sh---- for three score years, ever since his remarkable evanescence and reappearance (the opulences he had conveyed back from his Odyssian wanderings had now become local legend) and it was popularly held true, whatever the more venerable citizens might aver, that the Hill at Bag End was replete with tunnels filled with treasures beyond imagining; and if that was not enough to be blessed with Fame's fickle favour, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at, since, while Time marched on in Her relentless yet awesome majesty, Her ponderous footfalls seemed to have left little imprint on the afformentioned Mr. Baggins.
********
That's fandom number 2. *cackle*
The 2001 Master and Apprentice Bulwer-Lytton/TPM Slash Challenge (18+ only. Sorry.)
quote:
Originally posted by Istari Inc
ROTFLMAO!!!
*bows low to Ghostwind* THANK YOU!!! *snort* That was hilarious!
Oh and - HI Fishy!!!
quote:
Originally posted by Istari Inc
ROTFLMAO!!!
*bows low to Ghostwind* THANK YOU!!! *snort* That was hilarious!
Oh and - HI Fishy!!!
ARGH!! Sorry about the double post. Trying to get rid of it, but the edit button doesn't seem to work.
Bilbo Baggins's house sat in the middle of intense green lawn and the graceful sweep of trees. The house gleamed in the hot Middle Earth sunshine. Gandalf the Grey, my uncle's friend, parked the horse-drawn cart on the crushed gravel of the driveway. The gravel was so white, it looked like handpicked rock salt. Somwhere out of sight the soft whir of fireworks disrupted the peace of Bag End Shire. The grass was absolutely perfect in the middle of one of the worst droughts Bag End has had in over twenty years. Gandalf wasn't here to talk to Mr. Baggins about water management. He was here to talk about saving the world.
Not the universe. He's not that good. I mean Middle Earth. The decaying world. Black evil. Night of the living dead. Though certainly less dramatic than Hollywood would ever put up on the screen. It's a job, that's all, like selling.
Laurell K. Hamilton, <i>The Laughing Corpse</i>
a Frodo Baggins, Ring Bearer, novel
quote:
Originally posted by Serai
That "old Irish song" was written in the early 60s by Tom Lehrer, a rather brilliant parody master in his own right.
My first posting here--arrived at this board via Neil Gaiman's journal, where we talked up a few of the great offerings here.
And here's my little part to help get the board to 500 postings before the new year :o)
Frodo and Sam's Excellent Adventure
Frodo: (spots a lady going into the store) Excuse me, when did Sauron rule Middle Earth?
Cashier: I don't know. I just work here. (leaves)
Frodo: Wanna try the Thrifty Mart?
Sam: Sure.
(They pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, but the wind picks up and it looks like a storm's building. They look up and suddenly a phone booth comes right out of the sky and lands in front of them.)
Both: Whoa! Not bad.
(The booth's door opens and Gandalf walks out.)
Gandalf: Greetings, my excellent hobbits.
Frodo: Do you know when Sauron ruled Middle Earth?
Gandalf: Well, perhaps we could ask him. Sam S. Gamgee, Esquire and Frodo 'Froderick' Baggins. Gentlemen, I'm here to help you with your Fellowship.
Frodo: What?
Sam: How?
(Suddenly another phone booth drops from the sky. They turn and look at it.)
Frodo: Sam?
Sam: What?
Frodo: Strange things are afoot at the Shire K.
(The doors to the second booth open and another Sam and Frodo come out. For our purposes here this new Sam and Frodo will be Sam2 and Frodo2.)
Sam2: Dudes, you guys are gonna go to Mordor!
Frodo2: Yeah! You are gonna have a most excellent adventure through Middle Earth.
Sam: Who are you guys?
Frodo2: We're you, dude.
Frodo: No way. No way!
Frodo2: Yes way, Frodo!
Sam2: Look, we know how you feel. We didn't believe it either when we were you and we us said what we us are saying right now.
Frodo: Okay wait, if you guys are really us, what number are we thinking of?
Sam2 & Frodo2: 69, dudes!
Sam & Frodo: Whoa!
(All four of them play the air guitar.)
Sam2: Look, we've gotta go.
Frodo2: Yeah, we gotta get back to the report. (they turn to leave and spot Gandalf) Gandalf!
Sam2: Listen to this dude, Gandalf. He knows what he's talking about.
Frodo2: Right! And Frodo, give my love to the elves.
Frodo: Who?
Frodo2: You'll see.
Gandalf: Gentleman…is everything all right?
(They turn and walk back to the booth.)
Frodo2: Frodo, don't forget to hide the ring!
(Frodo nods his head and pats his pocket.)
Sam2 & Frodo2: Thanks, Gandalf.
(They get back into the booth.)
Sam2 & Frodo2: Catch ya later, Sam and Frodo.
(They close the door and take off. Gandalf turns back to Sam and Frodo and motions for them to enter his booth. Frodo holds up a finger for him to wait a moment and he turns to Sam.)
Frodo: Dude, are you sure we should be doing this?
Sam: Frodo, you and I have witnessed many things, but nothing as bodacious as what just happened. Besides we told ourselves to listen to this guy.
Frodo: What if we were lying?
Sam: Why would we lie to ourselves?
(Frodo nods and they walk over to the booth.)
Frodo: (to Gandalf) How are you gonna help us?
Sam: Yeah, are you gonna call someone and get the answers?
Gandalf: Gentlemen, we're gonna do a lot more than that. (he dials the phone.)
Both: Whoa, excellent.
(Gandalf then hangs up the phone and puts on his sunglasses.)
Gandalf: Brace yourselves amigos. Gentlemen, we're middle history.
(The booth takes off.)
Certainly not as good as some I've read here, but I felt I /must/ pay homage to Bill and Ted.
What if Anne Rice had written LotR?
Anne Rice's first book in the Ring Bearer's Chronicles; "Interview with the Hobbit".
"I see," said the hobbit thoughtfully, and slowly he walked across the room to the round window. For a long time he stood there against the dim light of the shire and the passing lamp light of the last stragglers of the evening along the shire road. The hooded figure could see the furnishings of the room clearly now, the round oak table, the chairs, a washbasin hung on one wall with a mirror. He set the large book he'd brought with him down on the table and waited.
"But how many pages do you have with you in that red book there?" asked the hobbit turning now so that the other could see his profile. "Enough for the story of a life?"
"Sure, if it's a good life."
"Fair enough," the hobbit replied as he eyed the faceless presence under the hood. He couldn't see anything in there... "I'm going to turn up the lamp wick so it will be brighter in here."
The hooded one began to ready his inkwell and brought out the long quill from within the folds of his long tattered cape. A sigh escaped him as the hobbit's hand reached to turn the little handle on the lamp. "It will make little difference," said the voice from under the cowl.
"I only wanted to prepare you."
At once the room was flooded with a bright yellow light, and the hooded one, staring down at the hobbit, could not repress a gasp, "Dear God. Your feet!"
The hobbit's feet were bare and completely covered with a thick curly hair that resembled fur.
"Don't be afraid," he said, "I want this opportunity... Shall I begin with my days in the shire? I was born... I grew up? Or should I begin with the day when I was given this dark gift? Yes, that is where it really starts.... I was forty five, but time is different for hobbits, I was a young man at that age, and the owner of a small plot just south of the river..."
(-Insert secret diaries; Frodo is given the dark gift and is looked after by Sam and they find Gollum and adopt him as their child only to have the little creature turn on them at the last minute and have it all end in fire.)
... The hooded figure drew back and ran the fingers of his armored hand loosely over his hood. "No!" he said with a short intake of breath, "No! It didn't have to end like that! I won't believe it! That ring must still exist!" his voice began to take on volume and grow stronger and more menacing as the figure in the hood rose from where he was sitting, "You brought me up here for a reason, didn't you! Didn't you! You want to give the ring to someone else... well, give it to me! I want what you have!"
(check out the next book where Sam becomes a rock star!)
Bwhahahahaha!!!
Re: Bored of the Rings
quote:
Originally posted by outlawmws
I can't believe I haven't seen reference to this, so I have to presume most of you haven't seen the Harvard Lampoon parody titled Bored of the Rings.
__________________
...and to the last battle...with the Slumlord of Borax, they sent some snipers, though who they sided with is unclear.
Prologue-Concerning Boggies
Bored of the Rings
quote:
Originally posted by Liakela
My first posting here--arrived at this board via Neil Gaiman's journal, where we talked up a few of the great offerings here.
Can we get a LotR in the style of not Hemingway, but in the style of the yearly re-write Hemingway competition?
Sorry Weird Al, I don't always read the sigs...
-Outlaw
The Big Ring/Farewell, My Precious by Raymond Chandler
It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, mid-March, with the sun not shining and the usual look of hard, cold doom in the foothills. I was wearing an orc's old suit, brown pants, brown shirt, no shoes, some mail and armor. I was tired, I was frightened, and I was desperate, and I didn't care who knew it. I was everything the apocalyptic hero ought to be. I was calling on the doom of all the races of Middle-Earth.
As a rule this Mordor joint wasn't the sort of place a respectable person would be seen in. That suit me just fine. I never claimed to be a respectable person. And I've seen enough unrespectable people doing unrespectable things that it rarely makes me lose any sleep. This case, however, was one of the exceptions.
With apologies to Spider Robinson...
It was the standard night at Callahan's place. Drinks were flowing, the cigar box on the counter was full, and the fireplace was spilling over with glass. It was Tall Tales night - the night when people had to tell the tallest tales that they could, and the winner of the night's competition would get all of their drinks for free. Needless to say, every hand had a glass in it, even though the competition was down to the final two competitors. Now, mind you, I was one of the last two competitors of the evening - and I sure wasn't going to pay my tab. But my opposition was steep - I was up against the Doc, and he's not an easy one to beat. The topic of the evening was books, and it seemed that we'd turned to Tolkien for the final competition.
"You know," began Doc, settling heavily back in his chair and waving a meaty hand airily, "I don't believe I've told a story about my friends from Rivendell recently. Pretty place, Rivendell - full of trees and pretty arches and a flowing river.
"Anyhow, I was breezing through there one day when this horse came pounding up behind me. There was this woman on it, and she was hanging on to this little short kid who looked like death warmed over. Needless to say, I was called immediately into action. We got the kid into a bed in the best house in town, and I got to work."
Someone, sotto-voce, muttered, "Can't be the best House in town - that's Sally's Place."
The Doc, nonplussed, turned his eyes in the direction of the unknown heckler, and blithely continued uninterrupted. "So anyhow, I look over the kid, and there's not a sign of injury or assault on his person - except that his skin was cold as death, and his face white as a sheet. But he had this ring on him - pretty thing it was, too. It was hanging on a chain around his neck. For some strange reason I almost thought it'd fit me, but then it hit me - and I knew what'd happened. I talked to the other medical folks in Rivendell, and they agreed with my diagnosis. Shame, too - it was incurable."
"What was your diagnosis?" said Callahan from behind the bar, leaning his chin into his hand as if to hold his head up.
"Oh, that's simple," said the Doc. "He ring'd his neck."
A few glasses hit the fireplace as a communal groan went up - but I saw my advantage. The Doc's final efforts were not his best tonight, and I had an opening for my own attempt.
"Well," I drawled, stretching out my legs a bit from my own chair, "the Doc might hang out in Rivendell, but I always preferred the Shire. Those boys know how to party, let me tell you - always had pipes smoking, food was plentiful at any hour of the day, and they had elevenses."
"Elevenses?" queried Long-Drink from across the room.
"Yep, elevenses - and they dressed to the nines while they had 'em, let me tell you. Anyhow, I recall this one particular party that I went to. It was for some guy named Baggins who'd just had his hundred and eleventh birthday. The whole town turned out for that one, and it looked like it was going to be great - eighteen-course dinner, fireworks provided by Gandalf and Co., the works. Dancing and singing, everything you could imagine in a great party.
"Anyhow, the night was getting along, and Old Man Baggins got up on this stage to say a few words. Now, me and Hattie Hornsfoot were off in a corner chatting, but she went running over to her family when the old guy got up to talk, so I was left to my own devices. And boy, could he talk. 'Baggins and Boffinses,' he began, then listed off this humongous listing of names - so many, in fact, that he could've likely written a whole book about them.
"So anyhow, there I was, off to one side of the party with a mug of stout and a smile, and this grey-robed guy with a pointy hat nudged me, then jerked his chin off to one side, like he wanted me to follow him. I got the picture right away, and sidled off after him. But then, I heard the shouts, and I started back towards the party - sounded like someone'd just killed someone, and I figured I had a bit of practice with breaking up a fight.
"That party'd gone to the dogs quickly, that's for sure. People were screaming and hollering, and the Proudfoots - or is that Proudfeet? - were busily bashing the Boffinses with their steins. A cluster of Hornblowers were screaming at the Old Took... a bad move that is, since the Old Took can holler with the best of them. And my good friend Hattie was in the middle of a cluster of Brandybucks who looked like they were about to explode. I started towards her, then tripped over something and turned around to see what it was.
"There wasn't anything there - or, at least, it didn't look like there was, and then that old geezer Baggins appeared in front of me. "Quick!" he hissed. "Get behind me and shut up - you won't get beat." And he was being truthful - there was a pack of Proudfeet coming my way, and it looked like I was up for a bruising.
"So I got behind Baggins, and he suddenly vanished - and there I was, all in my lonesome, with a batch of hobbits bearing down on me. I did what any self-respecting guy would do and froze and didn't move a muscle, hoping they'd think I was a bush. But did you ever hear that an invisible hobbit is still opaque enough to hide whatever's behind him? Surprised the heck outta me; I still felt old Baggins in front of me, and even tugged on his coattails once when one of the drunk hobbits swaggered closer, but not a single one saw, and eventually Baggins whispered that it was safe, and we made a break into the woods."
"Is dere a point to dis whole rigamaroles?" Fast Eddie asked, lounging against his piano.
"Yup. It all comes down to one thing, which is great to remember for any parties in the Shire - I'd rather have a hobbit in front of me than have a bottle lobotomy."
A hailstorm of glasses hit the fireplace, Fast Eddie played a 'wah-wah' on the piano, and I knew I didn't have a tab to pay up as I left that night.
quote:
Originally posted by finarfin
Would anyone care to try "Apocalypse Now"?
GROAN.
*smooches Pixellation anyway* Hee!
Welcome to the SDMB Pixillation, and congratulations on a stunning entrance.
As a major fan of Mr. Robinson's, my hat's off to you for catching his prose so perfectly. Allow me to cover your tab next time around, and b'god I do surely wish it could be at Callahan's or its successor.
Why, thank you, Hometownboy. It's all Liakela's fault - she dragged me in, and since out of all the prior mess I hadn't seen Spider done yet, I figured /someone/ had to do it.
Could've been worse, I suppose - a hobbit could've slipped Jake a Finn.
Ciao for now.
"A Few Good Hobbits"
"A Few Good Hobbits"
Boromir: You want answers?
Aragorn: I think I'm entitled to them.
Boromir: You want answers?
Aragorn: I want the truth!
Boromir: You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with swords. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Samwise Gamgee? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Gandalf and you curse the Orcs. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that Gandalf's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.
We use words like Gondor, Pellenor, Ithilien...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
Aragorn: Did you try to take the ring?
Boromir: (quietly) I did the job you sent me to do.
Aragorn: Did you try to take the ring?
Boromir: You're goddamn right I did!!
Binary LOTR
The Binary Lord of the Rings - Excerpt
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11111111110101000010100110010101010! 001010101…..
0101010111110101010101000000101010101001010101010001010101010010101011010011010000101010100101010110
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010100100001010101010101101001000000011011011111111100101010100100000000001
001 100
Argh - sorry, didn't realize my post would stretch the thread. Could someone edit to the right size please?
Eleisawolf, your Gorey was brilliant! Seriously. I got shivers!
Anyone willing to try a Sherman Alexie? I might, but I think I'd mess it up.
I'm beginning to wonder if this thread doesn't top the "Most New Dopers Recruited" list for 2002...
Today, theonering.net! Tomorrow, the world! Bwaaahahahahahahahaha!
More Hem, anyone?
Speaking of new members...I registred just now simply to join this great thread.
So many potential litterary victims...but this would be my first choise: We've already had some Hemingway, but mostly reminicsent of the older papa, n'est pas?. So I can't resist giving the Young Hem a go:
That autumn is was very pleasant, and we often went walking in the garden with the low sunligth in the clean, cold Rivendell-air, and there was always a breeze to send the leaves from the birch-trees swirling, and Arwen was very happy most of the time.
"Don't we have a wonderful time together, darling?"
"Sure"
"We have such fun. The hobbits are such wonderfull people. Why havn't we seen any more hobbits here before? If you would stay, we could invite more hobbits. Then we could give parties, and perhaps invite some more og your kin too, and we would have such wonderful fun."
"You know I can't stay"
"Of course. But would'nt it be grand?"
"Very. But it is not for now. You know that."
She was quiet for a while. The she said:"I hate it when you do that."
"Do what?"
"Say: You know that. I wish you didn't ever say: You know that."
"But you do."
"Yes I do. But i don't wna't to. I hate that i know it. I hate everything they say about your blood and your war and about the terrible, terrible, miserable ring. I wish I had never heard of it. I Wish i didn't know. But I do. And it is so terrible, and i wish we could stop talking about it."
"It is easier to accept it if you understand it."
"Will you please stop talking about it?"
"Sure. But you have to understand, it is just what is neccesary to do."
"Will you pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease stop talking about it?"
We sat for some time and looked at the landscape in front of us. You could see the peaks of the mountains which were covered with the everlasting snow, and down below us the ravine streched out between the walls of the cliff, past the gates of Rivendell and out by the Bruinen and futher on into the plain beyond the hills. A single dark cloud drew across the pale blue autumn sky. It passed its way slowly over the horizon, carried high by the blow of the eastern wind. A small white tree in front of us caught the wind too and swayed almost down to the gruond beneath it.
"I'm sorry" she said. "I was unfair."
And then:"I did not mean to be unfair. I just go a little crazy sometimes. Can you forgive me?"
"Of course"
"It's just that I hate thinking of it."
"So do I."
"So we won't talking about it again, will we?"
"No"
"Good. Because I hate talking about it."
She had sat very straigth and tall, but now suddenly she seemed very tired and she leaned against my shoulder.
"Will you put your arm around me?"
"Sure"
I put both my arms around her and held her close, and she said: "Don't you wish you weren't going?"
"I do" I lied.
Later, after I had gone of with the Company, that small white tree wich had been blown so heavily about by the wind that day, was torn up by the winter storm and cut up to be used as firewood, but in the end everyone passed the sea before it was put to use . But at that time we were in Lorien, and noone thought anymore of Rivendell then.
-----------------------------------------
Hope some liked it.
Sorry for spelling etc., english is not my first language as you migth have noticed
(Apologies for typos)
If I had been honest with Gandalf from the start then it might have been different. But generally my lack of forthrightness has been my downfall on numerous occasions and the consequences had generally been no worse than to send me into weeks long fits of misery and depression and re-ordering my record collection based on such mundane criteria as where I bought the album or which memebr of my family it reminded me of. And most of my lies or half-truths at that time revolved around football, or more specifically The Shirenal Gunners. For example, there was Milicent Lowtree, with a fantastic bosom and far too much sense for me. But here we were together when she asked me to have dinner with her folks on a night that we both new was scheduld for the Gunners and the Archers of Aragon in a replay of an earlier match when Hicklefit missed an open net in extra time. But instead of explaining to her the impossibility of me not going to Shirebury that Saturday, I agreed to go to dinner, knowing full well that I would never make it. And I made up some excuse, which she didn’t believe, and we broke it off. And in hindsight I suppose I should have simply told her at the tim, “No dear, I cannot make it becasue the hobbits have a game, right, so you see it is an impossibility.” But then ,and even now that sounds hooribly inept and pathetic, so of course I found it far easier to take the other path.
And this is exactly what happened with Gandalf, when he asked me to take the Ring to Mordor and destroy it, I agreed. But I knew that there would be know way, there was a game that night and countless others that I would have to miss should I make the journey. And I tried to beg off Gandlaf, asking how he could expect a lowly hobbit such as myself to carry the ring on such a dangerous quest, when in reality what I meant was, how could he expect to miss at least a half dozen league and Cup games to dispose of a ring that didn’t even belong to me. Gandalf tried to explain that only I could possibly reists the temptation of the rings power. It was rubbish as far as I was concerned, I had my own overwhelming desire, which was to sit in the North End with the other nutters. And if I had been honest with Gandalf and said there was no way because there was a game it might have turned out better. But again, like always in these situations, I choked on those words as being to ridiculous..
So I took the ring and made off as if I was on a quest to destroy the ring, when in reality the only quest I had was to get to Shirebury in time to claim my favorite spot in the bleachers. And on my way there I ran into a complete oddball who looked off by about ten and talked is a strange West End slurring dialect. He offered to take the ring to, or the “precious” as he referred to it, to Mordor. I agreed. As far as I was concerned this was a brilliant plan because I wouldn’t have to miss the game and the ring would, presumebly get destoyed.
This was one of the last days before the darkness overtook Middle Earth and one of my last happy memories becuase the Gunners pulled out a brilliant vitory with two strikes in the last ten minutes. So I like to think I made the right choice, although I am still not sure what became of the ring.
-Nick Hornsby
Charge at First Light - Tennyson
1
Tens of Thousn’ds, Tens of Thousn’ds,
Tens of Thousn’ds, more,
All towards Helm’s deep
Marched the dark core.
“Forward Fighting Uruk-hai
Take no mercy, make all men die!”
To destroy Helm’s deep
Marched the dark core
2
Such numbers, such reckless hate
Strength of Isengard so great
Now tho’ the soldiers feared
Feared a horrid fate.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
A few to stand to save Helm’s deep
Against all odds they dared
3
Masses the right of them,
Masses to the left of them,
Masses in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with rage and hell,
Boldly they fought and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Against all odds they dared.
4
“The battle we have bared
The despair we have shared
I will not end here snared
Backed into a corner
Without forth having dared
For an end worth a song.
The end will not be long;
At dawn sound Helm’s horn
Ride forth, I will charge them strong
May we cleave a road,
Now will you ride with me,
Son of Arathorn?”
5
One last time, hear Helm’s horn sing
With the sunrise, hope will bring
Helm for Theoden King!
“Forth, Eorlingas!”
In the east, clothed in white
Hope arrives, joins the fight
Rohirrim, cloaked in light
Just in time, welcome sight
For the Helm, dark core smite
Til no more sabers ring
Battle comes to pass
6
When can their glory fade?
End worth a song they made!
Fate of Middle Earth spared.
Honor the charge they made!
At first light they braved,
Against all odds they dared!
The Reed Urn of the King by Piers Tolkien
Frodo stood near the fiery chasm, struggling with himself.
How he wanted to claim the Ring for his own -- how he *needed*
it! He pulled it from the Reed Urn that Aragorn had given him
to carry it in, and placed it on his finger.
But even the foul Ring of Sauron could not completely dominate
the will of a hobbit, so long as he was truly good and stuck
to his principles. Frodo held, with his last strength, to the
image that had sustained him through all of those miles in the
wasteland: Rosie, as he had seen her swimming, not knowing that
she was being watched. How enticingly her breasts had bounced!
With despair, Frodo realized that he would never learn what
kind of panties she wore, and he took another step towards the
brink. If he could not force the Ring from his finger, he
would throw himself into the pit.
But the Ring had a last trick to play. It clamped ever tighter
on his finger, sending waves of agony through his body. Frodo
stumbled and fell, and as he sprawled, he flung his arm out
to break his fall. The Ring suddenly dropped from his hand,
and heeding its call, Gollum came scrambling...
Lennon/McCartney do LOTR
The song of Theoden, by John Lennon/Paul McCartney
When I find myself in times of trouble
Orcs as far as I can see
And my men are fading, just like me!
Helm's Deep's a trap, they told me
And orcs standing right in front of me
Shouting nasty warnings, "Let it be!"
"Let it be, let it be
"Let it be, let it be
"You will see no morning, let it be!"
We are no broken-hearted people
Hiding from the enemy
We'll still kick some orc ass, with great glee!
For though those orcs are mighty
There is still a chance so we'll be free
Let's kill orcs, my brothers, you and me!
You and me, you and me
You and me, you and me
Let's go kill some orc scum, You and me!
And when the night is cloudy
And those orcs are hard for you to see
Shine your torch upon them, and you'll see!
You'll see their nasty teeth and eyes
Your stomach will quite disagree
But you must keep fighting, just like me!
Just like me, just like me
Just like me, just like me
Yes, you will keep on fighting, just like me!
Just like me, just like me
Just like me, just like me
Yes, you will keep on fighting, just like me!
GOLLUM – by Voltaire
CHAPTER 1
How Gollum met his Precious, and what came of it
There lived in Middle Earth, among the riverfolk, two young hobbit-like folk: Smeagol and Deagol. Smeagol was of a family of high repute, and was himself very inquisitive and curious-minded, and interested in roots and beginnings. He would tunnel and burrow and dive into deep pools, his eyes constantly looking downward. His friend Deagol had similar interests, and was sharper-eyed but not so quick and strong.
One day they were out fishing, and Smeagol got out to nose around the banks while Deagol remained in the boat fishing. Suddenly, a great fish took Deagol’s hook, and before he knew it, he was pulled out of the boat and dragged deep into the water, to the bottom. Seeing something shiny, he let go of his line, grasped at the object, came up sputtering with a handful of mud, and swam for the bank. When he washed the mud away, he beheld a golden ring.
Smeagol had been watching over his shoulder, and insisted Deagol give him the ring. He insisted it should be his, as it was his birthday, and he wanted it. Deagol would not part with it, so Smeagol strangled him and took it from him, because the gold looked so bright and beautiful. He put the ring on his finger, called it “my precious,” and wouldn’t let it out of his sight.
Upon returning home, he recognized its powers of invisibility, and used it to crooked and malicious purposes, all whilst muttering and gurgling to himself. Over a time, he became hated and shunned by his relations, they called him Gollum and banished him from his home. For a time he wandered lonely, feeling sorry for himself, eating raw fish, until eventually he came to hate the sun and took up shelter in a cave in the Misty Mountains. For awhile, he vanished from all knowledge.
Until an unlikely soul happened by, and the ring abandoned Gollum, only to be found by an unsuspecting hobbit. Proving admirably that there cannot possibly be an effect without a cause – that in this best of all possible worlds, the precious was the most powerful of all rings, and with a will of its own … it did not wish to remain with a spent creature deep in a cave, unused. Observe: fishes are made for eating, fingers are made for rings, pockets are made for holding things, and rings of power are made to control others. It is clear, that things cannot be otherwise than they are, or since everything is made to serve an end, everything necessarily serves the best end.
Thus of this cause and this effect, the ring left Gollum, in this most beautiful and agreeable of all possible caves.
LoTR a la Evangeline, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This is the forest Fangorn. The murmuring pines and the Ents,
Bearded with elf moss, and in garments silk, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Elves of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like Hobbits hoar, with beards that rest on their hairy feet.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the Ents.
This is the forest Fangorn; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the deer, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the
huntsman?
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Rivendell farmers--
Elves whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of Sauron, but reflecting an image of Lothlorien?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of the Second Age
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean.
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Rivendell.
Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of Arwen's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Rivendell, home of the happy.
(this is just Evangeline, slightly modified)
Man, these just keep getting better and better.
More Frogers and Sammerstein!
(Oklahoma style!)
The Shire (from the musical of the same name)
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh-- The Shire
Where the wind comes sweepin' through the hills,
And the gardens hoed, with PO-TAY-TOES,
Are enough to give a hobbit thrills!
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh-- The Shire
Where we sit and drink a pint or two,
Where it's quite a treat to wash one's feet
Cuz there's really not that much to do!
We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we saaaaaaaaaaaaay--
"It's here we want to staaaaaaaaaaay!"
We're only sayin'
We're doing fine in the Shi-ur,
In the Shi-ur
T-H-E S-H-I-R-E
In the Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire! HEY!!
Sun Tzu as Sauron – The Art of Using Rings of Power (excerpts)
If a ring-bearer who heeds my will bears the ring, I am certain to win. Retain him! When one who refuses to adhere to my will bears the ring, he is certain to be defeated, Dismiss him!
All rings of power are based on deception.
Offer the bearer a bait to lure him; feign innocuousness and snare him.
Feign ignorance and allow him to believe the ring of power can be used for his will.
Machiavelli – The Ringbearer (excerpts)
When those ringbearers which have been acquired are accustomed to living at liberty under their own will, there are ways of holding them. One is to forge another ring, with the power to control and the will to dominate and rule the others. And if the ruler of the one ring rules a free-willed ring bearer and does not destroy his will, he can expect to be destroyed by it, for the ring bearer can always find a motive for rebellion in the name of liberty and free will.
Bag-feld
Frodo Bag-feld is sitting in Bag End, his shelves crammed with opened boxes of Lembas cereal. Kram-dalf comes careening in, knocking his hat off and tossing the staff into a chair.
KRAM-DALF: Whoa! Frodo, there's a new brew down at the Green Dragon, you just gotta try it!
Frodo sputters and waves his hands angrily.
FRODO: Kram-dalf, what is your problem? You come barging in here like the place is meant for big folk and keep knocking over all of Bilbo's knickknacks! Really though, what is up with knickknacks? They don't knick. They don't have a knack.
Kram-dalf snaps his fingers and pops his lips.
KRAM-DALF: That's gold Frodo!
Samwise Costanza enters and plops between the two, looking more sullen than usual.
FRODO: Please, make yourself at hole! I insist!
SAM: Shut up Bag-feld. Rosie just broke up with me. What is with me and women? I mean, I cater to all their carnel desires, why can't they cater to mine?
FRODO: What is it with carnel desires? They always seem to get the best of us. Take this ring I got from Bilbo. It's small, unobtrusive, yet it continues to grow on my mind.
KRAM-DALF: Like a canker sore, with lemon juice poured on it?
FRODO: Exactly.
There is a knock at the door. Frodo opens it and Loth-man steps in.
LOTH-MAN: Hello Frodo!
FRODO
Disgusted) Hell-o Loth-man. What do you want? Don't you have an other obscure relatives you can pester?
LOTH-MANLaughs manically) Oh, Frodo, Frodo. I just stopped by to inform you about a series of recent purchases I've just made.
He hands him the deed to BAG END. Frodo looks at it aghast.
FRODO: How did you get this?
LOTH-MAN: Apparently, someone hasn't been paying there rent fees lately.
FRODO: I sent a check just last week.
LOTH-MAN: Well, you know how it is with the postal service.
FRODO: No, I don't know how it is with the postal service. Care to educate me, fat boy?
Loth-man sneers and turns around.
LOTH-MAN: You have a day to get off my property, or else, I toss you out! Ta-ta!
Kram-dalf smacks his lips.
KRAM-DALF: You know, you could have avoided this entire problem is you had just used the UPES.
FRODO: The WHAT?
KRAM-DALF: United Elf Parcel Service.
FRODO: Then that would be UEPS!
KRAM-DALF: Well damn, now I'm really confused!
SAM: Will you all shut up! Let's start focusing on what's important here hobbits! ME!
Ar-laine comes in and slams the door behind her.
AR-LAINE: Well, I'm going to die.
FRODOSarcastic) What, you're STD test come back?
AR-LAINE: Shove it shorty. I've just promised myself to that Aragorn Putty twit, and now I've been banned from crossing the seas to Valinor! My Dad can be such a jerk sometimes.
KRAM-DALF: Hey, I know what could really cheer you up. This awesome ale down at the Green Dragon. It'll knock your socks off.
AR-LAINE: Wait? The one made by Gaffer Costanza?
KRAM-DALF: Giddy-up!
AR-LAINE: Get out!
She shoves Kram-dalf into the fireplace. He lets out a yelp and rolls around on the floor in flames.
SAM: Oh, well that's swell! And still no one's comforting me over my sudden and irresolvable break-up!
AR-LAINE: Knowing Rosie, and knowing you, I'd say it was your fault.
SAM: Oh really? Where you there? Did you witness it for yourself?
Ar-laine gives him a wry look. He fumes silently and wrings his fists.
SAM: ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I planted her new elanor greens under the window sill, and she didn't like it, so (whispers) I set them on fire.
FRODO: God, let's get down to the Green Dragon!
AR-LAINE: I don't know, what with Mr. Pyromaniac along for the ride, won't he burn the place down?
SAM: It was an accident! An Accident!
FRODO: All the same, we're keeping the matches away from you. Come on Kram-dalf, I need to figure out how to get Bag end back from that idiot cousin of mine.
The Remains of The Ring by Kazuo Ishiguro
It seems increasingly likely that I really will undertake the expedition that has been preoccupying my imagination now for some days. An expedition, I should say, which I will undertake alone, with only the companionship of the gardener, Sam (a hobbit such as I, you see-- daring perhaps to place myself among the great hobbits of my generation-- a hobbit such as I is accustomed to referring to those under him in the staff by their given, Christian names); an expedition which, as I foresee it, may well take me through much of the finest countryside of Middle-Earth, as well as some of the most perilous, to the Rivendell home of the Elves, and may keep me from the Shire for as much as one or two months. The idea of such a journey came about, I should point out, from a most urgent suggestion put to me by Mr. Gandalf himself several evenings past. An evening when, as I recall, I had only just returned from the pub, and thus perhaps did not give this request the thought it merited. I use the word request loosely, for the desperation in which it was delivered was not at all akin to the easy and free manner with which my friend is in the habit of conversing with me. I must admit, I am uncertain as to what he wishes from me in regards to these conversations. Mr. Gandalf, you see, is very fond of the small witticisms in which he indulges, a state not entirely exclusive, I believe, from the large amounts of pipe-weed he consumes. We of the Shire are not used to this bandiment of jest, and I find myself at times unable to produce more than a weak smile. Still, I am mindful that he is a foreigner, and if the fulfillment of my duties requires the exchange of these witticisms, then I shall pursue their execution to the best of my abilities. But I digress. On the particular evening, as I recall, I was seated before the fire, gazing at the fine picture of the Old Took which has hung over the mantlepiece now for a good many years. It was then that Mr. Gandalf entered, placed the volumes he carried haphazardly on my writing desk, and threw himself down into an armchair (an armchair which, i might add, was rather too small for him, being made to the measure of a fully grown Hobbit) and said, with great distress,"You realize, Frodo, that it's not safe for
you to remain here in this house with the staff of Sauron abroad. I've an idea. It seems best if you take the Ring to my old friend Elrond in Rivendell. He'll tell you what to do."
all i can think of at the moment. Has anyone done a Nora Roberts one?
ala captain planet
hi all, i'm new but i somehow found a link to this thread and it blew me away so i signed up...dunno if anyone's done these yet, but they came to me and i must. apologies in advance!
------------
captain frodo and the fellowshippers
gandalf!
gimli!
legolas!
strider!
hobbits!
(and boromir)
goooo fellowship!
by your powers combined, i am captain frodo!
captain frodo, he's our hero!
gonna take that ring right down to zero!
he's a halfling, from the shire,
fighting on the gandalf siiiiide...
(members of the fellowship):
we're the fellowshippers, you can be one too
cuz destroying this ring is the thing to do!
evil domination is not the way.
here's what captain frodo has to say:
(frodo):
gooooo us!
There's gotta be a way the Chicago Reader could make money off this thread!
sponge bob square pants?
gandalf: arrrre ya ready kids?
hobbits: aye aye, gandalf!
gandalf: i cant hear you!!
hobbits: aye-aye, gandalf!!!!
gandalf: okaay...
whoooooooooooooooooooooooo
lives in a hobbit hole out in the shire?
hobbits: frodo baggins!
gandalf: so furry and short and freaky is he...
hobbits: frodo baggins!
gandalf: if seeing much bish-iness is what you wish,
hobbits: frodo baggins!
gandalf: then go watch the movies and drool like a fish!
hobbits: frodo baggins!
all: frooodooo baaagginss, frooodoo baaagggggiiiinnnnnss, froodoooooo baagiinnnns, froodoooooo baaaaagiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins!
billy troll
billy troll's scenes from a tolkien-ian trilogy
(frodo)
a ring made of gold, it might make me dead,
perhaps gandalf should take it instead?
oh crap, it's gotta be me
I dont wanna leave this old familiar place
catch you face to face in breeeeeeeee
(new line cinema execs)
tom bombadil, where did he go?
he was in the book, not in the film, though
we'll just add in liv tylerrr
in our neew zeaaland film.
(frodo in rivendell)
things are okay with the hobbits these days
made it alive, chilling with elves
got some new toys, eating some lembas
and pal bilbo is old
oh, we think we're going home
you're all weak, i didn't know
i'll take it to mordor, after all this m$*#er f*&#ing time!
(merry and pippin's lament)
do you remember those days hanging out back in the shiire?
elevensies, bag end, parties, all that fun
oh, we'd drink and sing and have some jolly fun
back in hobbiton
cold beer, hot food
our sweet romantic tweenage nights
(billy troll)
a dude called saruman was the popular wizard
And a smartie in middle-earth
strutting around with his fancy staff
And his magical powers
Nobody looked any finer or was more of a hit at the orthanc diner
We never knew he could want more than that out of life
Surely s-man and gandalf would always know how to be friends
arwen and strider were still going steady in that summer of the third age
When they decided the marriage would be after 1000 pages
Everyone said they were crazy
arwen you know you're much too elfy
And strider could never own up and be king of gondor
But there we were while arwen waved strider goodbye.
(fellowship-ers)
we all joined a fellowship and had us some fun
now theres paintings of us up at sears
they travelled to moria and found out there'd
been no one alive there in years
but they started to fight when the orcs were in sight
and they just didn't count on the bridge
(billy troll)
well they ran for a while in a very nice style
but it's always the same in the end
gandalf met his doom at kazad dum
and parted from all of his friends
then the soon-to-be-king took the rest outside
and they never went back there again.
our man frodo had had it already
By the time that they left lorien
from the high to the low to the end of the show
he decided to go it alone
his friends couldn't escape their attractions
so the fellowship broke up into factions
but we always knew they would all find a way to get by
oh, that's all I heard about books one and two
can't tell you more cause i told you already
and here we are waving frodo and sam goodbye
(legolas, gimli, and aragorn)
so long boromir
let's go chase some ooooorcs
i'll meet you hobbits later on
in our fine old triiilogyy
An idea for anyone who's recently read Return of the King ... Eowyn fits nicely in the space of "Kerowyn" for Lackey's song "Kerowyn's Ride" ... *grin*
hmmm.... Lackey doing LotR songs... eek. What does it mean when you filk a filk? *vanished to work on that idea, be back tomorrow*
Galdalf makes a radio from a coconut and Gimli hits Merri with his hat
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started out from Rivendell,
and was named a Fellowship.
The Ring was wanting Saruman
to wraithe our Frodo pure.
So nine brave souls set forth that day,
for the forge of Mor-a-dor, the forge of Mor-a-dor...
The Balrog started getting rough,
the dwarf would not be tossed.
If not for the courage of Grey Gandalf,
the mission would be lost; they all would have been lost.
The rest of them continued on across each scenic mile
with Aragorn, and Archer Elf,
and Boromir, and the Dwarf,
with true-blue Sam, the hobbit twits and Frodo's angst,
all in Tolkien's grand style!
sorry i just keep thinking of things
yeah i keep remembering stuff iwanna add: you all need to visit this website: http://www.jerrythefrogproductions....pofthering.html it is AMAZING.
okay, got one...
Mercedes Lackey does a song tape for LotR - track one:
Threes
Deep into the stony hills, miles from Is-en-gard,
a horde of Urk-hai running, running fast and running hard.
Tthey carry with them halflings, stolen at their lord’s command:
he seeks the Ring of Power to adorn his gnarled hand.
Three things see no end,
a flower blighted e’re it blooms,
the message that miscarries
and the journey that is doomed.
Some amongst the uglies call a halt to their hard flight,
they’re hungry and they’re footsore, and they’re glad to pick a fight.
The group begins to argue, and a head or two gets chopped,
the hobbits try to flee but are by hungry goblin stopped.
Three things never trust in,
the wound that will not heal,
the ally who keeps secrets,
and a hungry mob with steel.
From ambush Rhorim screaming charge the Urk-hai and their prize,
and every one who’s not on horse is taken by surprise,
and all but three are cut down as a woodsman fells a log:
the hobbits started running and the goblin ran along.
Of three things be wary:
a Rohan man on horse,
a Sheild-maid who is angry,
and the Fanghorn Forest, of course.
The hungry goblin chases and the frightened hobbits flee,
they try to hide themselves up in the branches of a tree,
But it’s an Ent who’s napping, and once awake he sets things right:
stomps the goblin, takes the hobbits off to meet the Wizard White.
Three things never anger
or you will not live for long:
A dwarf with axe, a wizard true,
and an Entish sense of wrong.
(yes, it's awful, and not the same length as the original, but, well...) (and for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, check out Firebird Arts and Music).
With apologies:
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started from this tiny town,
that Bilbo had just slipped.
The hobbit was a hobbit not a man,
the wizard brave and sure.
Three people set off that day,
to thwart the Dark Lord, thwart the Dark Lord………
The Nazgul started getting rough,
the tiny group was tossed.
If not for the courage of the fearless crew,
the Ring would be lost; the Ring would be lost.
The group took ground on the shore of this Lorien elven wood,
with Frodo, Strider too,
Tom Bombadil, and Legolas,
Sam Gamgee, Gimli, Boromir Merry and Pippin,
here on Gilligan's Isle.
So this is the tale of our fellowship,
they'll fight a long, long time.
They'll have to make the best of things,
it's an uphill climb.
The hobbit and the wizard too,
will do their very best,
to make the others live right through,
this horrid Sauron pest.
No food, no drink, no sex at all,
not a single luxury.
Like the Cracks of Doom,
it's primitive as can be.
So join us here each year my friend,
you're sure to get a grin.
From Peter Jackson's telling,
Of the Lord of the Rings.
jefferson ring ship
one ring makes you larger
the other makes you small
and the one that bilbo gave you
makes you invisible to all
__________________
longhair75
(sister winifred said i would never learn to type....)
LORD OF THE RINGS
by
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
I was born deep down in a hole-in-the-ground,
First kick I took was when I got pushed around.
Been treated like an orc who's been beat too much,
And I spent half my life just coverin' up...
Born in Hobbiton
I was born in Hobbiton
I was born in Hobbiton
Born in Hobbiton...
I got put in a big old jam,
when my uncle put a ring in my hand,
It got me sent off to some foreign land,
Cause I was told to destroy it by some grey old man...
Born in Hobbiton...
I had a friend named Boromir,
Fightin' off the orcs by the Anduin,
They're still here, he's passed on,
Born in Hobbiton...
I come back to my home in the Shire,
But I can't get a job 'cause someone lit it all on fire...
I got nothin' left but these ripped blue jeans,
and all the looks people give me that are just so mean...
Born in Hobbiton
I was born in Hobbiton
I was born in Hobbiton
I'm a cool rockin' hobbit from Hobbiton...
quote:
okay, got one...
Mercedes Lackey does a song tape for LotR - track one:
Threes
New Line... HBO... it's all the same
After all these great contributions, all I have is a couple of script excerpts.
Fellowship of the Sopranos:
Sammie G: 'Ey, uh, Tony... that the One True Ring there?
Tony Baggins: Be a helluva thing if it weren't.
The Two Towers of Em City (a spinoff of Oz):
(Several lifers, a clique the guards have taken to calling "The Fellowship," sit on a long bench in the weight room.)
Legolas (sitting down and putting his arm around Aragorn): You got the ring?
Aragorn: No, I don't have the [censored] ring.
Gimli: I hear this midget's got it.
Boromir: [censored] midgets. Struttin' around like they [censored] own the place... someone oughtta do something.
Legolas: You do that, Warden Saruman will make you wish you'd never been born.
Boromir: Yeah? Personally, I think the warden has a thing for the little [censored].
(Frodo walks up, and climbs deftly up onto the bench next to them.)
Gimli: Someone invite you, new boy?
Frodo: What's it to ya? Like what ya see here?
Legolas: Oh, tough guy. Say, we hear one of your kind has the ring. What do ya say?
Frodo: My kind? What is that, a racial slur? Hey, we're all the same here.
Boromir: [censored]. Say that again after lights out, sweet cheeks.
(Samwise ambles over.)
Samwise: Frodo... did you... ah... take care of the... uh... problem?
Frodo (looking perplexed) Problem?
Samwise: You know... the, err, situation?
Frodo (unsure): I don't know... Oh, you mean... OH! No, I, uh...
Boromir (grabbing Frodo by the collar): You do have it, you sawed-off [censored]! You have the ring!
(A guard immediately starts moving toward them, and another...)
Aragorn: Aw, [censored], man! The [censored] guards must be Nazgul! The warden lied to us!
The Halfling and the Istari
ala Lewis Carroll
The Halfling and the Istari
were sitting at their mead;
Relaxing after setting-to
on a very ample feed;
and speaking of momentous things
while smoking choice pipe-weed.
The Hobbit took a long, deep draw
and blew a smoke ring grand;
of this he was quite proud, you see,
and hoped a fanfare band;
But the Wizard puffed a Sailing Ship
bound for the Undying Land.
They debated deep and lofty themes
till the rise of the Morning Star;
Such as the origins of Dragons,
did they spontaneously appear;
Such as the creation of Evil
and the nature of Iluvatar.
They spoke of Quests and Rings of Power,
of Volcanoes and many things;
Like can half-elf maids die or sail,
can Rangers become Kings;
Like whether Uruks are bred or brewed,
and do Balrogs have wings.
Hey, don't ask, that was terrible! I must lower the bar!
Well, let me tell the story 'bout a hobbit named Fro'
Who found an evil ring, Gandalf said it had to go
"Fro', land o' Mordor is the place for rings like these!"
So Fro' grabbed his servant Sam, and he headed for the east...
Orodruin, that is... Mount Doom... Cracks o' fire...
Well, first thing ya know, ol' Boromir lost his head
Tried to take Fro's ring and ended up shot dead
Gollum's guidin' Fro' and Sam, while their friends ride off to war
And together they're a-seekin for a way to Mor-dor
Y'all count your fingers, now, y'hear!?!?
Oh my God.
I love you all. For being as wrong as possible.
The first and last paragraphs of David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of this trilogy, or whether that station will be held by another Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien must show. To begin my life with the beginning of the day I got the ring, I record that Bilbo had left (as I have been informed and believe) on a Friday, at twelve o'clock at night. It was remarked that the clock began to strike, and Bilbo disappeared from the party, simultaneously.
O Precious, O my soul, so may thy gold be by me when I close my life indeed; so may I, when Middle Earth is melting from me, like the Raiths which I now dismiss, still find thee near me, on my pointing finger!
more 60's theme songs!
Sam and Frodo SING! (To the tune of, OMG, Green Acers!)
Baaaag Eeeend is the place to be!
Hobbiton living is the life for me!
Land spreading out so far and wide
Keep Mordor, just give me that country side
No, Mount Doom is where I have to go,
Tossing the ring into the lava flow
I just adore a flaming pit
Sammy I love ya, but I must get rid of it!
The orcs!
The porks!
Foul air!
Six squares!
You cover my ass!
Good-bye Rosie lass!
Crack of Dooooom, weee areeee there!!!!
Arwin and Aragorn feel left out…
Arwin and Aragorn feel left out…
Minas Tirith is the place to be
Citadell living is the life for me!
Fiefs spreading out so far and wide!
Keep the Havens just give me that Middle Earth country side
No. Rivendell is where I'd rather be!
I get bored with Fellowship Company!
I just adore a waterfall view.
Darlin I love ya, but give me Lothlorean Avenue
The wars!
The stars!
My Crown!
My Gown!
You are my wife!
Good bye Rivendell life!
Minas Tirith, we are there!
Lennon/McCartney do LOTR again
Help!
(John Lennon, Paul McCartney)
Lead Vocal: Sauron the Deceiver
Help! I need a ring.
Help! Not just any ring.
Help! I'm gonna need the One Ring!
When I was younger, so much younger than today
I made a bunch of rings, and then I gave them all away.
But now those days are gone, I need the One right now
No matter where it is, I will find it somehow!
Help me get my ring, or I will frown
And if I won't get it, I'll be truly down
Help me run those Hobbits to the ground
Won't you please, please help me!
And now my life has changed in oh so many ways
I can't rule dwarves with their darn rings, it sucks, you sure can say!
The only Rings that worked were those I gave the Nine
My Nazzies are my pride and joy, but now I do need mine!
Help me get my ring, or I will frown
And if I won't get it, I'll be truly down
Help me run those Hobbits to the ground
Won't you please, please help me!
The Ring's so close, so close I sure can feel its might
That hobbit came to bring the One to me at last, alright!.
But all those others, men and elves and dwarves and Ents
They don't agree for me to have the One and kick my pants!
Help me get my ring, or I wil frown
And if I won't get it, I'll be truly down
Help me run those Hobbits to the ground
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh!
Lennon/McCartney do LOTR once more
I Want To Hold That Band
(John Lennon, Paul McCartney)
Lead Vocal: Gollum
Oh yeh, I'll tell you something
I think you'll understand
When I see that gold band
I wanna hold that band
That precious golden band
I wanna hold that ring!
Oh please, let me touch it
It was mine once, you know
Yes please, I so crave it
So let me kill Frodo!
Oh, let me kill Frodo
I wanna kill Frodo
And when I touch it I feel happy inside
My precious sings to me, it wants me
And can't hide, it can't hide, no, can't hide!
Yeah, you got my ring there
I hope you'll understand
When I kill you just so
I can still hold that band
That pretty round gold band
I wanna hold that band
I wanna hold that band
I wanna hold that band!
quote:
Originally posted by Tiktak_Kat
Downfall of the Lord of the Rings Now
[Scene: Darly lit interior of an inn room sized for Hobbits]
(Voiceover as a partially clad Hobbit ambles around aimlessly, finally going berserk and injuring himself in a bizarre gardening accident)
"I was in Bree again. I wanted a quest. And for my sins, they gave me one. And when it was over, I would never want to go on another one. After my last quest, all I could think about was going back to the Shire. And when I was in the Shire, all I could think about was me next quest. And here I was, sitting in the Prancing Pony in Bree and getting soft, while out there in their caves under the Misty Mountains, Charlie was staying hard. I had to get out of here."
[Scene: a council room in Rivendell]
Gandalf: I am Gandalf the Istari. That is Elrond Half-Elven, and that is Mr. Strider. Have you ever met any of us before?
Frodo: No sir, I haven't.
Gandalf: Are you Frodo of the Shire? Assigned to the Fellowship?
Frodo: I'm sorry sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and if I did I would not be disposed to discuss it at this time.
Gandalf: And your Uncle Bilbo was involved in the assassination of the Dragon Smaug?
Frodo: I'm sorry sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and if I did I would not be disposed to discuss it at this time.
Elrond: What do you know of Sauron?
Frodo: I'm not sure I've heard much of him before sir.
(a bard is summoned and a number of lays are sung)
Gandalf: We'd like you to take Sauron's ring, travel down the Anduin, then proceed overland to Mount Doom and terminate his Ring.
Elrond: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
Frodo: Terminate his ring?
Mr. Aragorn: Terminate Sauron.
[Scene: on Anduin in elven boats]
(Voiceover as Frodo pores over books of lore)
"I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe this guys record. A Maia of Aule? Chief Lieutenant to Morgoth? Managed to destroy Numenor and escape. Nearly Conquered Middle Earth. Nearly. And now he was going to try again, and this time he would succeed. And they wanted me to travel into his stronghold and destroy his ring. I couldn't believe it."
(It would take a long time to finish this. Way too many scenes would convert so well.)
Terrific! Maybe you or someone else could make it a longer-term project to do a more lengthy version? (I don't remember the movie well enough to do more than enjoy.)
There's been some fine stuff posted here the last few days.
Here's another brief contribution from me, with hopes that someone else will either continue or otherwisebetter it:
The Rime of the Ancient Mithrandir
by
J.R.R. Coleridge
PART I
The ancient Mithrandir meeteth three hobbits bidden to a birthday party, and detaineth one.
IT is the ancient Mithrandir,
And he stoppeth one of three.
'By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The Party-field gate is opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din.'
He holds him with his skinny hand,
'There is a ring,' quoth he.
'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
The Party-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old wandering wizard, and constrained to hear his tale.
He holds him with his glittering eye—
The Party-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
Mithrandir hath his will.
--------------
This has been only slightly altered from Coleridge's original, which you can read online at www.bartleby.com
oh man these are HILARIOUS! is any one here a lindsay davis fan? how about marcus didius *frodo*? come on, aelia, you know you want to....
"Come quick! CJ's doing Lord of the Rings!"
Did I ever tell you about that Ring that changed my life?
The one I thought, oh Lord, when I saw it lyin' in that envelope
All slim and smooth with that golden sheen, no markings
I knew that I had died and gone to ... Hobbit Heaven!
He had a real deep voice, a big-ass mace, his helmet kinda pointy
Steel gloves that fit him perfectly
Sauron wore an 800-pound cast-iron suit straight from
I dunno, what would they call it?
Moria or Dale or someplace like that? I knew it wasn’t local
Isildur said, "I got to get the Ring off that..."
He didn't have it for very long, the Ring was so wrong
It could get any Gondorian King into trouble
Can you guess what he called it?
Well ... the Precious
The Precious
Say - the Precious
It was a gold hand band, cool like the pass of Caradhras
Even after bein' thrown in the fire
Then I'll be fried, Black Speech on the side
Bilbo left the damn thing be-hind
All down to fear of Mithrandir
He called it the Precious
It was big bad evil Sauron's malice-fillin’ Rulin' power ring kinda thing
Volcano-forged, made to rule, made to bring, made to find and in the darkness bind
And if you don't take it to Barad-Dur
It'll slip right off your finger
Even if you call it the Precious
Say - the Precious
Gollum was in the Misty Mountains cold, gettin' old, eatin' fish
Three foot 4 and not an ounce of fat!
Bilbo asked, ‘What's in my pockets, cat?’
Gollum guessed hands, string and gat
His guesses were all blown, and in case you hadn't known
It was really the Precious...
Served an 80-year bid, first in Bilbo's crib
Then they took it to Mount Doom and in it went!
Brought Sauron's power to an end
That was 3021 and today, if it wasn't gone
We’d be getting et by orcs
The jewellery whose claim to fame was that they called it the Precious
The Precious...
Requests
Could someone please do
Re: Binary LOTR
quote:
Originally posted by Istari Inc
The Binary Lord of the Rings - Excerpt...101001010001010110101010111000101010101000000000101010001010101...
Suggestion
Someone PLEASE do Moliere's "The Mithrandir!"
lastin
How about...
Helen Fielding does....
Eowyn Eomundsdaugthers Diary (extract)
March 22
Athelas-infusions: 2. Portions of disgusting porridge: 1½. Attempts to sneak out of gloomy little room: 5. Times being caugth: 5. Depressed thougths of certain heir to Throne of Gondor: 100.000 (at least). Number of Witch-Kings slain: 1 (vg)
10.00
I hate my life. Went to see annoying Warden again this morning, asking him if there was any possible way I could get out of this dreary place. He put his face in the ”Ohh, my poor child” –mode, and gave me the usual lecture of my illness, of the peril of battle and of the great evil in the east. One of these days I will ask him for a glass of water and he’ll regret he can’t fulfill my wish and give med the full account of the fall of Numenor.
I figured I had to stop him somehow and told him off with a poised ice-queen remark (works every time) of dying by the sword even if you do not live by it. Then he got all gloomy and stared out the window, and finally he brougth himself to suggest that I’d go se the Lord Faramir, who is apparently lying around here as well. What rot. No way I’ll be under the command of such a lazy bastard, resting his nobleness in comfortable pillows while all valiant men take care of the Dark Lord.
12.30
Maybe should go see that Faramir-fellow after all. Ioreth, the chatty elderly lady who tends me, can’ t stop talking about what a completely eligeble bachelor he is. It seems that Faramir easily surpasses both Beren and Helm Hammerhand when it comes to virtues. As if I’d care, when the only man I could ever love is currently out there considering whether he should throw himself into battle and meet a violent, but valiant death, or into the arms of a long-legged, ageless, anorectic elf-bitch with cheekbones she could paraglide on and no exess body hair. Come to think of it, I guess I would prefer the first option (am very selfish here, but it would give me great comfort knowing that not only would I grieve, but also elf-bitch would be all sobbing and swollen-eyed and snotty-nosed and no star whatsoever).
18.30
I really, really, really want to go seek my glorious death in battle now. Had disarsterous first encounter with Lord Faramir this afternoon. I decided things could only get better, and sent for the Warden to arrange a meeting. And having now seen the man, I have to admit that although he wasn’t no Beren or Helm either, and certainly no Aragorn, he wasn’t so bad after all. He was really quite attractive with this long groomed hair which the hairdressers of Minas Tirith seems to specialize in, and he was awfully nice about my situation and the world coming to an end and the no-hope-left-issue in general.
Of course I stayed the cool, poised ice-queen, but only until he asked me if there was anything I would have him do for me, sending me one of those darned knowing Gondor-smiles. Suddenly, I just wanted to fling myself into his arms and scream: ”Yes! Unleash me from the bitter turmoils of this wretched age and take med somewhere nice and calm where I can put down my sword and take up indoor decorating and baking recipies!”, but thankfully I managed myself, and came up with some ridiculous nonsense about my window facing the wrong way or so. I must have sounded like an idiot, because he quickly unwinded the situation with some sort of: ”Nice to meet you, let’s have a walk in the garden sometime”, and I made some lame excuse and ran off as fast as I could without losing the last little unmelted bit of ice-queen.
I am absolutely sure he thinks me a complete orc by now. I hate my life. If someone would just give me a sword, a horse, a nicely fitted mailcoat with a low-slung belt, and a pair of knee-high ridingboots in tan leather, size 8, I would be out of here this instant. Or at least when I’ve had my dinner.
---------------------------------------------------------------
again, forgive a dane her english spelling
Marie
The Night Terrors
This is the Dark Lord crossing the border,
Bringing his threat of a new world order,
Slavery for the rich, slavery for the poor,
The thing on the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Mount Doom, a steady climb:
The gradient's against him, but he’s got the time.
Past smouldering pit and moorland high
Blasting bright flame out of his eye,
Snorting noisily as he passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.
Sheep-dogs seem quite at a loss;
Feigning sleep with paws across.
In the farm he passes everyone shakes,
And something in a barrow gently wakes.
Dawn freshens, the climb is done.
Down to the city he descends
Towards the creatures yelping down the glade of cranes,
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All the land waits for him:
In the dark glens, beside the pale-green sea lochs
Men dread the news.
Rings for dwarves and rings for elves,
Rings for men who aren’t themselves,
Rings with inscriptions you can’t quite read,
Rings that are tempting in your hour of need,
As applications for situations
That seem to promise the end of nations
And gossip, gossip as all affected
Meet in a council that’s quite dejected,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
Archetype and stereotype and just plain wrong.
Thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of terrifying monsters,
They continue their dreams,
And shall wake soon and long for letters,
And none will hear the knock on the door
Without a quickening of the heart,
The reason for which they have quite forgotten.
Re: Re: Binary LOTR
quote:
Originally posted by Shalmanese
typo!
I want to see some done in the style of a few notable stand-up comedians. Judy Tenuda is probably the ripest -- You cannot possess me! (How to work the Pope in, though, that's the tricky bit. It could happen!) How about Steven Wright? Emo Phillips? George Carlin? Tim Allen in the days before Home Improvement and his movie (ahem) "career"? Bobcat Goldthwaite?
Lennon/McCartney do LOTR - STOP ME!
A Day In The Life
[i](John Lennon, Paul McCartney)
Lead Vocals: Frodo Baggins/i]
I heard the news today, oh boy
The Dark Lord Sauron wants his One Ring back
And though that news is bad for most
Well, I just had to laugh
I saw a picture of a dwarf.
He blew his mind out mining rocks
He didn't noticed how the hill came down
A crowd of Dale folk stood and stared
They'd seen his face before
Nobody was really sure
If he was not from Erebor
I saw that wiz today, oh boy
He had just found out that one Ring was bad
I wished to walk real far away
But he gave me that look
Got me with a hook
"To Mordor you must go!"
Woke up, fell to the floor
Heard a knockin on my door
Told the wizard, yeah, I'll hide it good
That ring you brought, so sorry you are late
Got my pipe and stuffed it fat
Found my gardener club a rat
Found my way to Bilbo's birthday feast
Then somebody spoke and vanished away
I read a book today, oh boy
In there it tells how Sauron lost the war
And though he lost, he was still there
Can't he be counted out?
Now they know how many men it takes to bring that Ring to doom
I'd love to fall asleep!
(yes, it's awful, and not the same length as the original, but, well...) (and for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, check out Firebird Arts and Music).
Oh it's not awful, ragsdale!! I'm very glad you decided to Tolkien-ize "Threes", since I couldn't remember "Kerowyn's Ride". And it's a cool song in its own right.
Oh my goodness... all these are sooo good. I don't know if there has been a scientific account of LoTR... but in any event, here goes mine:
===
An excerpt from Ilsildur the scientist's diary:
The ring is made of solid metal. From the heaviness and the shine of the object, it can be concluded that the ring is composed of gold and another metal of a higher density. Further experiments are recommended to ascertain the composition of the ring.
A writing, presumed old elvish, was found etched into the surface of the ring. With careful research, it is certain that the etching can be deciphered.
Picking up the ring for the first time, an interesting phenomenon was observed. The etched elvish, which hereto had been clear, slowly disappeared from the surface of the metal. It is suspected that the decrease temperature might have been the cause of the fading. Therefore, it may be concluded that the heating of the ring, perhaps to several degrees higher than the normal body temperature of the race of Man, may trigger the appearance of the writing over the surface of the ring.
...
Sandcastle - I had tried my hand on a LOTR Lab report thgingy, but couldn't get past the Material and method section. well done! *snicker*
quote:
Nobody was really sure
If he was not from Erebor
Loving this . . . how about J.R.R. Dickens' A Christmas Carol?
Ok another one. But prolly someone could make this better. but here I try anyway:
--------------------------
Recipe for Helms Deep's favorite battle
INGREDIENTS
Portion 1.
A thousand Ugly Orcs
A million Ugly UrukHais
Couple Mutated Trolls
Portion 2.
One Crazy King
A hundred Teenage Boys
A hundred Hopeless Farmers
A handful of Frightened Soldiers
Portion 3.
120 Arrows
Over 200 Swords
A couple Explosives
Lots and lots yelling
One flash of White Light by Gandalf
In an extra large bowl, saute together the Portion 1 ingredients, until black and roudy.
In a medium pan, boil together the Portion 2 ingredients. Cook until all are wilted and tender.
Pour the contents in the large bowl into the pan. Mix it until they are overflowing and a great mess is made. Add in the Portion 3 ingredients and stir until well mixed.
Add yelling to your taste.
Heat the oven to 700 degrees F and cook until it's completely black.
Remove from the pan.
When you think you can't make any more mess out of this concution, Use the flash of Gandalf light to make things all better.
A Christmas Epic, by J.R.R. Dickens
Chapter 1 - Isildur's Heir
Isildur was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. He was shot quite full of arrows by a party of orcs and left floating in the river. Sauron willed it. And Sauron's will was great upon Middle Earth, for anything he chose to put his mind to. Isildur was as dead as a barrow-wight.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a barrow-wight I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a barrow-wight as the deadest denzien of all the undead hordes. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or Middle-Earth's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Isildur was as dead as a barrow-wight.
Sauron knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Sauron was Isildur's Bane, the Doom of Men, the slayer of kings, the Dark Lord, and the Lord of the Rings.
Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, "My dear Sauron, how are you. When will you come to see me.'' No Men implored him to bestow his magic rings, no hobbit offered to share with him their pipe-weed, no elf or or dwarf ever once in all his life inquired the way Barad-dur or the Dead Marshes, of Sauron. Even the blindmen's dogs appeared to know when his great eye was upon them; and when they felt him looking towards them, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, "No eye at all is better than the evil eye, dark master!''....
The door of Sauron's black tower was open that he might keep his eye upon his prisoner, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of torture chamber, was rolling about and moaning about his Precious and theiving hobbitses. Sauron's Eye was wreathed in a bit of fire, but the prisoner's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. Wherefore the prisoner huddled in the corner, and tried to warm himself with thoughts of raw fish and his Precious; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.
"A merry Christmas, Dark Lord!'' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Sauron's minion, The Witch-King of Angmar, who came upon him so quickly on his winged steed that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.
"Bah!'' said Sauron, "Humbug!''
It was foggy and wet that morning in London. Frodo arrived at Bag End, 221B Baker Street, to find Gandalf examining a curious circular object. "I say, what have you got there, old chap?" he asked.
Gandalf laid aside his crack pipe and replied, "Suppose you tell me."
Frodo picked up the object. "I'd say it was a man's gold wedding band, of the sort you can get for fifty shillings or so on Carnaby Street."
Gandalf replied, "Guessing is a rotten habit that spoils the reasoning faculty, Frodo. I myself have been researching the whole morning in the library at Mithra. When I was quite finished, I returned home to test my suspicions. In my chemical laboratory, I first heated the ring to a temperature of precisely 212 degrees, at which point the script of Mordor appeared upon the ancient ring, for such it is."
"So, it's an antique. Why does it matter to you?"
"Ah, I have learned that the ring is greatly valued by someone--that is, my old nemesis and arch-enemy. You know the one, Frodo."
"Sauron? The one the police call "The Great Eye?"
"Yes, a man willing to commit any crime. This case may be our most challenging case yet. Now, will you share a cab with me to Rivendell!"
--by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
After reading this thread, the realization comes forth and cannot be denied.
I am lowly slime, unworthy to visit the great intellect that frequents this site.
Much of this stuff is bloody brilliant and way beyond my capability to contribute.
I stand in awe.
AAAAH HA HA!! WOW! SidheWolf, that was bloody brilliant! Oh my. "My dear Sauron, when will you come to see me?" LOL!
aw, and andymurph64, despair not! i was totally totally blown away when i first arrived at this thread--but adding to it is SO much fun. i'm sure you'd rock! XD
-epi
I'm still waiting for someone to do a script of Angela Lansbury in "Mordor, She Wrote." But anyway:
John Keats - La Dam Ring sans Merci
O what can ail thee, Frodo lad,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is wither'd from the shire,
And no bards sing.
I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and Mountain Dew,
As though Nazgul with morgul blades
Stuck it to you.
I met her inside Rivendell
Full beautiful, a faery's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her ring-envy wild.
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day through,
For I am short and way up there
She’s out of view.
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there I ate lembas and thought
She’s nice and all but what the
Hell’s an ‘elfin grot’?
And there she popped a DVD,
And there I saw-Ah! woe is me!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
That cartoon version by Bakshi.
I saw tall Ents, and Strider too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried-"La dam ring sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"
I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
On Mount Doom’s side.
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the shire,
And no bards sing.
Hammerstein and RMS
Great thread!
I wrote this a few months ago (to Edelweiss):
Saruman, Saruman, has joined forces with Sauron.
Once was white, now by night, he makes orcs walk in daylight.
Hobbits in snow trudging with Frodo, Ringbearer forever,
Taken by Urak-hai: the Fellowship is severed.
And I just came up with this bit:
Mr. Tolkien:
It has come to our attention that throughout your history of Middle Earth you make reference to "the One Ring". This terminology is misleading to the average reader, as it obscures the contributions of the Free Ringware Foundation (FRF) which made creation of the ring possible. While it is true that Sauron did forge the ring in the fires of Mt. Doom, his labors would not have achieved such recognition and success, were it not for the pre-existing accomplisments of the founders of the Free Ringware movement, such as metallurgists, miners, and goldsmiths--and to a significant degree myself, since the forge code was written using my rmacs (Ring MACroS) ringware. Furthermore, the ring was released under the GNU General Public License, version 2 (or any later version, at your option) which is why Sauron was not the only being who could invoke its power. (Although it is a pity that the info documentation was misplaced, thereby preventing Bilbo and Frodo from making full use of the ringware.)
In light of these facts, we request that you abstain from the phrase, "One Ring", and replace it with the preferred term, "GNU/One Ring". While it is acceptable to use "One Ring" to refer strictly to the metal band, "GNU/One Ring" is the proper term to use when referring to the entire GNU Ring Operating System, consisting of the central ring, the networked rings and their associated powers. (cf http://www.frf.org/WhyGNUOneRing.html ) By doing so, you will demonstrate your support of the Free Ringware movement and your solidarity with the FRF. You will also help to ensure that the FRF artisans, without whose work the ring could not have been forged, will received due credit for their labors, as well as advancing the cause of Free Ringware in society as a whole.
RMS
(I'm a b-a-a-a-d boy, Abbott!)
Anyone want to take a shot at a John Ringo version ?
Andrew
Of course, there has to be a response....
COME NOW the Defendants, FRODO BAGGINS (hereinafter "Frodo") and SAMWISE
GAMGEE (hereinafter "Sam"), and hereby serve and file their Answer,
Affirmative Defenses, Counterclaim and Third-Party Complaint as follows:
1. Admitted that Sauron is an unnatural person. Denied that in his present
excorporeal state that he is capable of residing or being domiciled
anywhere.
2. Denied that Frodo and Sam are natural persons, but admitted that they
are natural halflings.
3. Admitted for jurisdictional purposes only.
4. Denied. Specifically, Sam denies ever possessing the Ring (except for a
short period of time during which he was under the reasonable, albeit
mistaken, belief that Frodo was deceased). Further, Frodo denies that he
converted the Ring or trespassed on the same while the Ring was in the
possession of Sauron.
5. Admitted that the Ring was destroyed on or about the last day of the
Third Age. However, Denied that either Frodo or Sam caused the destruction
of the same. The Defendants are without knowledge of what activities were
being undertaken by the Plaintiff or his minions at the time of the
destruction of the Ring and therefore the allegations regarding the same are
denied. All remaining allegation in this paragraph are denied.
6. Without knowledge and therefore denied. It is specifically denied that
Sauron can recover for loss of consortium with the Ring, as this would be
considered an unnatural act under the Middle Earth Code which is applicable
to the plaintiff, despite the fact that he is an unnatural being.
7. Denied.
AFFIRMATIVE DEFENSES:
1. Frodo and Sam affirmatively allege that Frodo was a bona fide owner and
holder in due course of the Ring, and had no knowledge that it was stolen at
the time it was transferred to him. Frodo received good title to the Ring
either from his cousin/uncle Bilbo Baggins, or by the Counsel of Elrond.
2. Frodo and Sam affirmatively allege that Sauron committed a fraud upon
the elves, dwarves and men when he created the Ring, and therefore he has
waived all interest in ownership and possession of that which should never
have been made.
3. Frodo and Sam affirmatively allege that they did not destroy the Ring,
but rather the Ring was destroyed by the independent intervening acts of a
third party, namely one Smeagol a/k/a Gollum.
4. Frodo and Sam affirmatively allege that Sauron does not come to this
Court with clean hands, as he caused nine unnamed co-conspirators
(hereinafter collectively, "Nazgul" or "Wraiths") to assault and batter
Frodo and Same when they were returning the Ring to Mordor.
5. Frodo and Sam affirmatively allege that Sauron's claim of ownership of
the Ring is barred by the statute of limitations and by the doctrine of
laches, as the Ring had not been in the possession of Sauron for many
centuries at the time it came into the possession of Frodo and/or Sam.
COUNTERCLAIM:
COME NOW the Defendants/CounterPlaintiffs, FRODO BAGGINS (hereinafter
"Frodo") and SAMWISE GAMGEE (hereinafter "Sam") and sue the Plaintiff,
SAURON, and state:
1. This is an action for personal injury, the intentional infliction of
emotional distress, and product liability.
2. During the events described in the Complaint and Affirmative Defenses,
Sauron attacked Frodo, either personally or through his agents, the Nazgul.
These attacks were either physical (e.g. the dagger to Frodo's shoulder) or
psychic in nature.
3. Further, during the attacks referenced in the previous paragraph, Sauron
and/or his minions negligently or recklessly caused physical and emotional
damages to Sam, during their self-help attempt to recover the Ring.
4. Additionally, the Ring, created by Sauron, was a defective and dangerous
product manufactured by Sauron. Specifically, it contained no safety device
which prevented its use by anyone other than its true owner. As a result,
Frodo and/or Sam suffered additional mental and physical trauma.
WHEREFORE, FRODO BAGGINS and SAMWISE GAMGEE demand judgment against Sauron
(or his Estate) for damages and costs, and demand a trial by jury in their
county of residence, Hobbiton.
THIRD-PARTY COMPLAINT:
COME NOW the Defendants/Third-Party Plaintiffs, FRODO BAGGINS (hereinafter
"Frodo") and SAMWISE GAMGEE (hereinafter "Sam") and sue the Third-Party
Defendants, SMEAGOL a/k/a GOLLUM, BILBO BAGGINS, and ARAGORN a/k/a STRIDER
as personal representative of the ESTATE OF ISILDUR, and state:
1. The chattel refered to herein was stolen from Sauron by Isildur. This
stolen chattel was later possessed by Smeagol/Gollum and Bilbo Baggins.
2. Isildur (and his heirs), Smeagol/Gollum, and Bilbo Baggins were all
aware that the Ring was stolen.
3. The Third-Party Defendants, either collectively, individually or in some
combination, are responsible for all damages suffered by Sauron, and
therefore are liable to Frodo and Sam for indemnification.
4. Further, Smeagol/Gollum assaulted and battered Frodo, causing him
personal injury, to wit, the loss of a finger.
WHEREFORE FRODO BAGGINS and SAMWISE GAMGEE demand judgment against the
Third-Party Defendants for indemnification, and FRODO BAGGINS demands
further judgment against SMEAGOL/GOLLUM for damages caused by the
intentional tort herein described.
(As Frodo was not married at the time of Smeagol/Gollum's battery, no claim
for loss of consortium can be brought arising out of the loss of the finger,
and besides, this is a family publication.)
Respectfully submitted,
CELEBORN, GALADRIEL & ELROND
Attorneys and Gladiators at Law
quote:
Originally posted by pravnik
COMES NOW, plaintiff, Sauron, to file this original Complaint, and would show this honorable court the following:
1. Plaintiff and party of the first part, Sauron ("Sauron") is a(n) (un)natural person, and resident and domiciliary of Mordor.
2. Defendant and party of the second part, Frodo Baggins ("Frodo") is a natural person and resident of Hobbiton. Co-Defendant and party of the third part Samwise Gamgee ("Sam") is likewise same.
3. All parties being properly diverse, jurisdiction is proper pursuant to 28 M.E.C. 1332. Damages far exceed the minimum jurisdiction of the court.
4. Defendant has converted and trespassed against the chattel and personalty of the plaintiff, namely, the One Ring ("Ring") and is liable to plaintiff for same.
5. Plaintiff would further show on or about the final day of the Third Age, defendants did intentionally cause the destruction of Ring while plaintiff was engaged in defending his business from hostile takeover. In the alternative, plaintiff pleads that the actions of the defendants toward ring amount to recklessness, gross negligence, and negligence.
6. As a direct result of destruction of Ring, plaintiff has suffered actual damages in the form of irreparable harm to his business and personal reputation, as well as direct and indirect loss of income. Plaintiff has further suffered from mental anguish, humiliation, and loss of consortium.
7. Insofar as actions of defendants were intentional, plaintiff further requests punitive damages in the amount of treble his actual damages.
WHEREFORE, PLAINTIFF, SAURON, PRAYS FOR: all reasonable damages above named; FURTHER, plaintiff prays for all additional relief in law or equity deemed necessary and proper by this honorable court.
Respectfully submitted,
Mouth of Sauron
Attorney for Plaintiff
Middle Earth Bar No. 734925639
There were some kicks in The Shire but the world was calling and Frodo's offer seemed to stir something almost holy in me. We had a few more drinks then called on Merry and Pippin for a laugh. We were never ones to travel heavy but the extra voices sounded good in the night and by the time the sun was up we'd raided Bag End for all the smoke we could carry and had decided to follow the directions the old man had given us, even though it seemed unlikely he'd ever really join us at the Pony. I tell you all this because what happened after the old man didn't join us is a tale that's too good to tell and you can either believe in it and feel the spirit of what were beating out of the countryside with every footfall or disregard it as an entertaining bit of fiction. Either way, it's my tale to tale and that's the way it started that summer.
-Sam Kerouac-
Mr. Baggins
Mr. Baggins
(with apologies to Misters Simon and Garfunkel...)
(Refrain)
And here's to you, Mr. Baggins
Middle-Earth's future depends on you, whoo whoo whoo
You must be brave, Mr. Baggins
A quest you must venture upon today
Hey hey hey hey hey hey
You need to get away from Bag End for a while
We need your help to save the world
Look around you, all you see is one big flaming eye
Maybe you can make it, if you try
(Refrain)
Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes
Put it in your floor among the papers
It's a little secret, just the Baggins' affair
Most of all, you've got to hide it from the wraiths
Coo coo ca-choo, Mr. Baggins
(Refrain)
Slogging off towards Mordor on a Sunday afternoon
Stumbling across a filthy creature
Try to hide it, try to fight it, when you've got the Ring
At least you also have your Sting
Where have you gone, Gandalf the Grey
A hobbit turns his lonely eyes to you, woo woo woo
What's that you say, Sam Gamgee
Gandalf, he has left and gone away
Hey hey hey, hey hey hey
or if you prefer the works of the great beagle, Snoopy.
It was a dark and stormy night.
The Nazgul jumped out from behind the bush.
"BOO!" he yelled.
(Wow! That's scary.)
heh. boomstick!
only doing this so someone can one-up me... ah, the possibilities are endless!
The Army of Dwarfness
Gimli: All right you soldiers of Sauruman, listen up. See this? This is my BASHSTICK! It’s a twelve layer, double forged axe, S-mart’s top of the line. You can find this is the orc-hunting department. That’s right, this sweet baby was made in the Mines of Moria. Retails for more than you can imagine.. It’s walnut stock, cobalt blue steel, and can cut a hair. That’s right. Shop Smart, Shop S-mart. Ya got that? Now I swear, the next one of you creatures even touches me ....
And I agree with Hunter Green.... anyone want ot try Eddie Izzard?
Yet another scene from Pulp Fellowship
At the banks of the Great River, ANDUIN. BOROMIR has just tried to take THE ONE RING from FRODO. FRODO slips on the RING and escapes. LEGOLAS with ARAGORN and GIMLI confront BOROMIR. FRODO has slipped off the RING and stands nearby . . .
LEGOLAS: How you boys doin'? (No answer)
LEGOLAS (to Boromir): Am I trippin', or did I just ask you a question.
BOROMIR: We're doin' okay.
LEGOLAS: Do you know who we are?
Boromir shakes his head: "No."
LEGOLAS: We're associates of your business partner Elrond Halfelven. You remember your business partner dont'ya?
BOROMIR: I remember him.
LEGOLAS: Good for you. Looks like me and Aragorn caught you at breakfast, sorry 'bout that. What'cha eatin'?
BOROMIR: Lembas.
LEGOLAS: Lembas. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. What kinda Lembas?
BOROMIR: Waybread.
LEGOLAS: No, I mean where did you get'em? Rivendell, Mirkwood, where?
BOROMIR: Lothlorien.
LEGOLAS: Lothlorien. That's that joint where the Lady Galadriel lives. I heard they got some tasty lembas. I ain't never had any myself, how are they?
BOROMIR: They're good.
LEGOLAS: Mind if I try one of yours?
BOROMIR: No.
Legolas grabs the lembas and takes a bite of it.
LEGOLAS: Uuummmm, that's tasty lembas.
(to Aragorn): Strider, you ever try lembas from Lothlorien?
ARAGORN: No.
Legolas holds out the lembas.
LEGOLAS: You wanna bite, it's real good.
ARAGORN: I ain't hungry.
LEGOLAS: Well, if you like lembas give 'em a try sometime.
(to Boromir): You know what the Dale-men call lembas?
BOROMIR: Cram?
LEGOLAS: Check out the big brain on Boromir. You'a smart motherf***er, that's right.
Boromir, you know what we're here for?
Boromir nods his head: "Yes."
LEGOLAS: Then why don't you tell my boy here Strider, where you got the s**t hid.
GIMLI: Frodo took it --
LEOGOLAS: I don't remember askin' you a goddamn thing.
Cut to Frodo, seen from behind. We can't see what he's holding up on a chain, but a small gold glow shines on him. Frodo just stares at it, transfixed.
LEGOLAS: We happy? (No answer from the transfixed Frodo.)
LEGOLAS: Frodo! (Frodo looks up at Legolas.)
LEGOLAS: We happy?
FRODO: We're happy
BOROMIR (to Legolas): I just want you to know how sorry we are about how f***ed up things got between me and Elrond by my trying to take the Ring to Minas Tirith. When we entered into this thing, I only had the best intentions --
As Boromir talks, Legolas takes out his bow and loads it with an arrow from his quiver. Boromir has just s**t his pants. He's not crying or whimpering, but he's so full of fear, it's as if his body is imploding.
LEGOLAS (to Boromir): Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue. I believe you were saying something about "best intentions." (Boromir can't say a word.)
LEGOLAS: Whatsamatter? Oh, you were through anyway. Well, let me retort. Would you describe for me what Elrond Halfelven looks like? (Boromir still can't speak.)
Legolas SNAPS, SAVAGELY KNOCKING Boromir to the ground. Boromir now sits on the gound like a political prisoner in front of an interrogator.
LEGOLAS: What country you from!
BOROMIR (petrified): What?
LEGOLAS: "What" ain't no country I know! Do they speak Elvish in "What?"
BOROMIR (near heart attack): What?
LEGOLAS: Elvish-motherf***er-can-you-speak- it?
BOROMIR: Yes.
LEGOLAS: Then you understand what I'm sayin'?
BOROMIR: Yes.
LEGOLAS: Now describe what Elrond Halfelven looks like!
BOROMIR (out of fear): What?
Legolas takes his bow and PRESSES the tip of the arrow HARD in Boromir's cheek.
LEGOLAS: Say "What" again! C'mon, say "What" again! I dare ya, I double dare ya motherf***er, say "What" one more goddamn time!
Now describe to me what Elrond Halfelven looks like!
BOROMIR: Well he's ...he's...an elf --
LEGOLAS: -- go on!
BOROMIR: ...and he...he...wears a headband --
LEGOLAS: -- does he look like a dwarf?!
BOROMIR (without thinking): What?
Legolas rolls his eyes and SHOOTS Boromir in the shoulder. Boromir SCREAMS, breaking into a SHAKING/TREMBLING SPASM.
LEGOLAS: Does-he-look-like-a-dwarf?!
BOROMIR (in agony): No.
LEGOLAS: Then why did you try to toss 'im like a dwarf?!
BOROMIR (in spasm): I didn't.
Now in a lower voice. LEGOLAS: Yes ya did Boromir. Ya tried ta toss 'im by taking the Ring from Frodo. You ever read Elven-lore, Boromir?
BOROMIR (in spasm): Yes.
LEGOLAS: There's a passage I got memorized, seems appropriate for this situation: "One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."
Legolas empties his quiver of arrows into Boromir. Aragorn plunges Anduril into Boromir. When they are finished, the massacred carcass just sits there for a moment, then TOPPLES over. All is quiet.
As if by Anne Rice
I am the Lead Rider of the Nazgul, and it has been more than two millennia since I received the Dark Gift from Sauron, the One Who Made Me. I had been a might King of Men, accustomed to all the finest things: tapestries from Rivendale, damask and silk robes from Gondor, crisp Numenorean wines and, when the mood arose, the occasional spanking.
Of course, all that changed…
My Master had bid me to reclaim a seeming trifle: a Ring. The ring was hidden away in the Shire, in the possession of Frodo Baggins.
When I beheld Frodo, I was utterly transfixed! His skin was as pale and clear as porcelain, his eyes a piercing blue, his curls dark and lustrous and his lips full and red. It was almost as if he’d received the Dark Gift already, and, in a way, he had. He was tiny and delicate, and I longed to preserve him that way, so we could always be together.
I might be over 2000 years old, but I do have needs, ya know.
As if by Rush Limbaugh
(Pretenders guitar riff – Chrissy Hinds is mortified.)
Here, in my formerly nicotine-stained fingers, I hold notes for a new book. The Way the "Lord of the Rings" Ought To Be
(loud rusting of paper)
Sauron is the archetypical LIBERAL. He doesn’t understand that he’s defeated, he just keeps coming back for more (are you listening, Tom Dachle?) Their plan is to loot pillage and plunder - through HIGH TAXES AND BIG GOVERNMENT.
Sauruman, on the other hand, is a liar. He SEEMS like a moderate, but take a closer look and he’s an honest version of Bill Clinton.
And doesn’t the Balrog look suspiciously like the Junior Senator from New York? In the 2004 election, she’ll drag us all down into Khazad-dum.
Well Mr. Snerdly, let’s go to the phones. We have a cell phone call from San Diego. Hello, Wolfgang.
“Giga dittos from the Left Cost, Mr. Limbaugh, it’s and honor to be on the program.”
It certainly is.
“What I want to know is – What’s your Environmentalist Wacko pick for this week’s Helm’s Deep Bowl Game – the Fighting Uruk-Hai of Insengard U., or the Rhohan Riders?”
I like the Uruk-Hai over the riders by ten points. Their bench is MUCH deeper. Watch for the Isengard quarterback to throw a bomb right through the Rider defenses. They’ll have Rhohan on the defensive for the entire game. But, the Riders have been know to pull it out at the last minute.
But the Environmentalist Wacko Pick. They’d choose wild horses over ravening beasts any day of the week.
We’ll be right back after commercial. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Is Barad-Dur a secret training camp for Al Qaeda?
My own poor contribution-
The Fellowship of the Email
by Every Damn Office I've ever worked at.
---
To: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
From: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
Subjeect: Your Uncle's Ring (vry impt!)
Frodo! This is VERY IMPORTANT!
Don't let ANYONE else know about your Uncle's magic ring! I think it may be a source of ultimate evil, and must be kept hidden away and safe.
-
"Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
Subject: Re: Your Uncle's Ring (vry impt!)
okie. by the way, i think sams been reading my mail. merry and pippin too. that a problem?
> Frodo! This is VERY IMPORTANT!
> Don't let ANYONE else know about your Uncle's magic ring! I think it may be a source of ultimate evil, and must be kept hidden away and safe.
>
> -
> "Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
From: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
Subjeect: Re: Re: Your Uncle's Ring (vry impt!)
AGH! Yes that's a problem! Damnit!
Alright, look. We'll organize a meeting at the Prancing Pony, noon sharp in three weeks. And bring anyone that you think knows about the ring!
-
"Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Strider" <rangers_rock@riven.net>
From: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
Subjeect: Meeting at the Prancing Pony
Hey, Aragorn, think you can make a meeting at the Prancing Pony in a few weeks? Say, three? Got a messanger boy, and I want to make sure that he gets to Rivendale safe-like. Also has something your family's interested in. Tell ya more later.
-
"Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Saruman the White" <admin@isen.org>
From: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
Subject: The One Ring (VRY IMPT! PLS READ IMDTLY!)
So, I think I've found the One Ring. I'll tell you more in person when I get to Isengard in a few days. Just FYI. It's been in the Shire this whole time! Can you believe it?
-
"Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "Saruman the White" <admin@isen.org>
BCC: "Sauron" <admin@mordor.com>
Subject: Re: The One Ring (VRY IMPT! PLS READ IMDTLY!)
> So, I think I've found the One Ring. I'll tell you more in person when I get to Isengard in a few days. Just FYI. It's been in the Shire this whole time! Can you believe it?
Very interesting. I hope to have a complete report when you get here.
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
Subjeect: Re: Re: Re: Your Uncle's Ring (vry impt!)
so like three weeks from when you sent the letter? or three weeks from when I read it?
> AGH! Yes that's a problem! Damnit!
> Alright, look. We'll organize a meeting at the Prancing Pony, noon sharp in three weeks. And bring anyone that you think knows about the ring!
>
> -
> "Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
Subjeect: Re: Re: Re: Your Uncle's Ring (vry impt!)
dude! where are you! answer your damn mail more often! im gonna assume it was from the day i got it.
> AGH! Yes that's a problem! Damnit!
> Alright, look. We'll organize a meeting at the Prancing Pony, noon sharp in three weeks. And bring anyone that you think knows about the ring!
>
> -
> "Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "Strider" <rangers_rock@riven.net>
CC: "Elrond Half-Elven" <admin@riven.net>
Subject: Where are you?
We hung around for a few days, but a bunch of ringwraits tried to ruin our day. So, I'm skipping the meeting and heading straight to rivendell. Be there in a few!
PS- Elrond, tell Arwen I've been thinking about her.
To: "The Eagles" <flyinghigh@mistymount.org>
From: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
Subject: I hate Orthanc (vry impt!)
I don't suppose you guys could arrange just one more trip for me? Please? From the top of Orthanc to Rivendell?
-
"Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "Gandalf the Grey" <gandalf1671@shire.com>
From: "The Eagles" <flyinghigh@mistymount.org>
Subject: Re: I hate Orthanc (vry impt!)
*sigh* Alright, Gandalf. But this is the LAST TIME. Seriously.
> I don't suppose you guys could arrange just one more trip for me? Please? From the top of Orthanc to Rivendell?
>
> -
> "Do not meddle in the ways of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
~
To: "The Leaders of Middle Earth Mailing List" <leaders@riven.net>
From: "Elrond Half-Elven" <admin@riven.net>
CC: "Frodo Baggins" <f_baggins@shire.com>
Subject: Committee meeting!
ALRIGHT FOLKS. WE'VE GOT A RING OF ULTIMATE EVIL TO DEAL WITH, A TRAITOR WIZARD WITH MORE POWER THAN OURS, ANDA COUPLE OF HOBBITS. WEE NEED A MEETING FOR DAMAGE CONTROL ASAP. I WANT TO SEE EVERYONE IN MY OPEN AIR OFFICE IN ONE WEEK.
quote:
Originally posted by andymurph64
After reading this thread, the realization comes forth and cannot be denied.
I am lowly slime, unworthy to visit the great intellect that frequents this site.
Much of this stuff is bloody brilliant and way beyond my capability to contribute.
I stand in awe.
Scenes from the LOTR episode of the BBC's "Keeping Up Appearances"
No one's requested this -- I'd be very afraid if someone had -- but here it is, regardless.
*****
[QuickPost MESSENGER approaches the Sackville-Baggins hole with utmost dread. He tries to silently sneak up to deposit an envelope in the letter slot in the door, but just as he reaches for it, the door opens to reveal a stern LOBELIA.]
MESSENGER: Oh. Heh. Why, hello, Mrs. Sackville-Baggins...errrr...Sashvee-Bayzheen.
LOBELIA: Hello, my good hobbit! Surely you have a missive from my dear Lotho in your bag?
[MESSENGER looks dubiously in bag and sees no such item.]
MESSENGER: No, ma'am. Few bills is all.
LOBELIA: Bills? I expect those will be from the Buckland Mint. For my Royal Hobbiton with the hand-painted periwinkles, you know. But surely there's a letter from Lotho (you remember Lotho, first in his class at Isengard) -- gilded foil wrapping, mark of the White Hand, all that?
MESSENGER [wanting to escape]: No, ma'am. Here, see for yourself. [Hands LOBELIA her mail and tries to step away.]
LOBELIA: Now see here...!
MESSENGER [fearfully]: Yes...?
LOBELIA: It is clear to me that dispatches from my little Lotho are being mishandled by the QuickPost! They are not to be plumbed or pawed or diverted to Westfarthing and back! Is that understood?!
[MESSENGER opens and closes his mouth a few times, then simply stalks off. LOBELIA shakes her head and goes back indoors.]
LOBELIA: Otho, I shall have to have a talk with the QuickPostmaster. It's unacceptable the way they're employing rude young tweens these days.
OTHO: Yes, dear.
[A chime rings in the hall. LOBELIA runs in and pulls the cover off a palantir.]
LOBELIA [into the palantir]: The Sashvee-Bayzheen residence, the lady of the house speaking! Oh, it's YOU, Lotho! Mummy was just talking about you!
OTHO: What does he want this time? He can't have any more money!
LOBELIA: [to Otho] I shall not have our son's fragile development disturbed by trifling over gold and silver pieces! [to Lotho] A break from your classes? Oh, surely you deserve it, your marks have been excellent! A walking tour of the Greenway with your friend Saruman? How nice! What else?
[LOBELIA gets a disturbed look on her face.]
LOBELIA: A mill and some pipeweed farms? For Saruman? HOW much?!
OTHO: Whatever it is, we can't afford it!
LOBELIA: Lotho, dearie, we'll talk about this some other time! So good to hear from you...cheers!
[LOBELIA passes her hand over the palantir to break the connection. Immediately there's another chime.]
LOBELIA: The Sashvee-Bayzheen residence, the lady of the house speaking! Rose? What's that? Bilbo's doing what?? Well, just keep things from getting out of hand until we get there!
[LOBELIA breaks the connection, in great disquiet.]
LOBELIA: Otho, hitch up the wagon! We've got to drive over to Bag End -- cousin Bilbo's got out of the basement again!
OTHO: Is that so unusual? I recall the one time he fell in with some dwarf pensioners --
LOBELIA: Otho! We don't need to dwell on old family scandals, we need to prevent new ones! He's trying to give away the house this time!
*****
[Scene changes to the interior of Bag End. FRODO is sitting in an armchair with a mug of ale. He's wearing a sleeveless Belfalas Bay Packers T-shirt. SAM is sitting next to him in a shapeless housecoat, reading a trashy hobbit romance novel. ROSE is wearing a revealing strapless dress and is standing in the foreground by a large palantir. She breaks the connection at her end.]
ROSE: There now. Our Lobelia's on her way.
FRODO: What'd you have to go and call our Lobelia for?
ROSE: She'll know what to do...she has a cool head on her shoulders!
FRODO [sarcastically]: Yeah. Like Caradhras. Are you done using the tirry yet?
ROSE [oblivious]: Why, just last week, she helped me out with Mr. Proudfoot.
FRODO: 'Elped YOU out? She 'elped HIM out, with that umbrella of 'ers, after you 'elped 'im in...
ROSE: Frodo...!
FRODO: ...and 'e 'elped 'imself...
ROSE: Frodo!
FRODO [changing the subject]: You going to answer me question? I said, you done with the tirry yet?
ROSE: Yes, I'm done with the tirry!
[FRODO slaps the side of the palantir. Loud clashing of swords and battle cries immediately begin emanating from it.]
FRODO: That's better. [Gestures toward the glowing globe.] A 'obbit needs 'is intellectual exercise, eh, Daisy?
SAM: I love it when you call me that. [Starts rubbing his legs together.] Don't forget that a hobbit needs his PHYSICAL exercise! [giggles]
FRODO: 'Ere now, don't go gettin' all broody on me...
ROSE: Have I mentioned that I'm done with men, too?
SAM [hopefully]: Maybe you'd better go downstairs and check on Bilbo? We don't want me gaffer wandering out again.
FRODO: Your gaffer? I thought 'e was me uncle.
ROSE: I thought he was me granddad.
FRODO: Heh heh! Dirty old man. Maybe 'e's all three.
ROSE [looking out the window]: Well, whoever he is, there's a perfect bunch of strangers traipsing all over the lawn. Looks like they're expecting a party.
FRODO: Naww! 'E didn't go and tell everyone it was 'is birthday again, did 'e?
ROSE: Course he did! Haven't you been paying the least scrap of attention? And before I forget... [Walks over to Frodo and drops the One Ring in his hand.] ...here's his birthday present to you. Says it's an artifact of ultimate evil, and you've got to go to Frogmorton or Mordor or some such to get rid of it.
FRODO [disgusted]: Aww, NOICE.
*****
It's late, so I'll quit there.
Another Simon and Garfunkel...
The Wizard (to the tune of The Boxer)
I am just a hobbit, though my story's often told-
I have squandered my existence
On a quest to destroy this Ring of Power.
Oh, I must rest! Still I have to continue
And disregard the rest...mmm, mmm, mmm...
When I left my home in the Shire I was no more than a boy,
In the company of old friends,
In the quiet of the Buckland forests, running scared,
Laying low, seeking out the hiding places
Where no Nazgul would go,
Looking for the places they could never know.
[Chorus] Lai luh-lai,
Lai luh-lai lai lai luh-lai,
Lai luh-lai,
Lai luh-lai lai lai luh-lai luh-luh-luh-lai lai...
Asking only for some refuge I go searching high and low
But I find no safety,
Just a come-on from Elrond in elven Rivendell.
"I do declare," he said, "someone must destroy this Ring."
And so I volunteered...luh-luh-luh-luh-luh...
repeat chorus
So I'm running now through Moria and wishing I was home,
Going home,
Where the Misty Mountain winters aren't bleeding me...
Bleeding me....going home....
Off the bridge hangs a wizard and a conjurer by trade
And he carries a reminder of the Balrog that made him fall
And caught him till he cried out, in his anger and his shame,
"I am falling, I am falling, but the wizard still remains!"
Mmm, mmm, mmm...
repeat chorus ad nauseum
Mr. Goodwraith!!!!!!
Bahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahah*gasps for breath* ahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha*chokes on tongue*a-glurg....glurg.....*coughs tongue back out* Ahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahaha.
My brain. You hurt it. Thank you for that.
okay, i had to do it. if anyone's still reading this thread.
frodo has returned to hobbiton after the adventures recounted in lord of the rings. he is rather bitter and unhappy and has not yet made his way to the grey havens. he sings along to his favorite tori amos song, changing the words a bit...
so i run faster
but she caught me there
yes my luck had turned
at cirith ungol
in the third age
running after gollum
running after the ring
this precious ring
made me bleed
i want to go away
this precious ring
let it break its hold on me
he said you're really a nasty hobbit
but i like the way it shines
on your finger
so i'll bite it off
can you believe that? sick sick..
watching me wither
dressing up like a wraith
i wanna smash the faces
of those beautiful elves
immortal elves
so you can go to valinor
doesn't make you elbereth
this precious ring
made me bleed
i want to go away
this precious ring
let it break its hold on me
i remember
yes in my grey elven cloak
no one dared
no one cared
to tell me where all the pretty elves go
those demigods
when there's a morgul blade
tucked inside the cloak of every
naaaazguuuuuuuuuul
this precious ring
made me bleed
i want to wash away
this precious ring
why didn't i get to be king?
i still bleed now,
i want to go away
this this precious ring
let it break
its hold on me
precious...
precious...
amaltheagray :
Brilliant!!! Just perfect. I had thought earlier that this song would work excellently, and so it has. I especially like the line:
quote:
when there's a morgul blade tucked inside the cloak of every naaaazguuuuuuuuuul
From the Annals of Oddur Iskarimil, Book-Keeper of Larúel and Historian of Lands West, an excerpt from Eddie Izzard's legendary final routine, Alkarin:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"One thing that always amazes me is hobbits. Hobbits."
[Exaggerates facial movements slightly as he says last word. Stands staring for a few seconds with piquant expression on face. Crowd titters nervously.]
"Hobbits, of course, are a great and wonderful thing, rah rah rah, responsible for bringing us much joy and laughter, dah dah diddly dum. [Walks around, rolls eyes slightly and shakes hand dismissively while talking. Smattering of laughter.] I can just see God up there on Design Day, deciding what to make hobbits like: [imitates God] "Right! Make me a creature with a [counts off dramatically, almost drunkenly, with fingers] taste for good food, an intense love for the homestead, a pleasant disposition, and, ooh, uumm... [stares at sky squinting for a few moments, then looks behind him as if someone just spoke to him] What's that? Too much? Well all right, we'll make them... pfft, tell you what. We'll make them tiny as bloody hell, like this big [places hand at approx. four foot level]. Still too good? Well... oh, all right, just give them, uh... [acts annoyed and befuddled, as if he wants to just get this out of the way. Waves left arm slightly as he says] bloody... hairy feet or something, I don't bloody know. Oh sod this, I'm off to lunch." [Mimes sound of door slamming.]
[Stands still while crowd laughs for a few seconds.]
"Or he had this surplus of rough material, you know, a bunch of curly hair just lying around, cluttering up the place, and just didn't know where to stick it, so to sort of cover things up he put it in the place where it'd be least visible, you know? Yeah, makes sense. But little did he know [speaking now with great emphasis and clear, dramatic enunciation] that that hair was [raises voice], in fact, supposed to go somewhere. This is why you'll only find one place on a dwarf's body that isn't covered with hair. I mean, what did you think all that armor was supposed to cover? [Crowd erupts laughing, excepting group of dwarves that quietly detach themselves from audience and head towards armory down road.]
[Izzard goes off on slight tangent about hair and nether regions, segues into a long diatribe about Elvish, recites passages from "There and Back Again" loudly and theatrically in Elvish to uproarious effect, then deftly weaves his way back to the topic of hobbits.]
"And you know, visiting a hobbit, that's [points index finger, moves hand rhytmically up and down in hacking fashion], that's never easy. I was doing a show in the Shire last year, and the thing that struck me about the place is that there's not a single person there that didn't feel it was their mission in life to be victorious over their neighbors in the [stares straight forward, speaks in slightly sarcastic monotone] Race To Stuff Eddie Izzard So Full of Pastries They Shall Come Out His Orifices, Oh Yes They Will. [Ends sentence on down note, nods head downwards as he says last word. Crowd laughs, excepting group of hobbit housewives who surreptitiously sharpen kitchen knives.]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There ends the excerpt. Of course, though the show ended in tragedy, it can do naught but add to the legacy that was Izzard Mirth-Maker's. Long may he live in our memories.
Let's see somebody cross LotR with "The Usual Suspects." (I'd do it myself but I don't know LotR well enough. Best leave it to the experts.)
Gandolf walks out from behind the rather cool looking sails on which are projected shifting, soft pastel colors. He steps onto the disk which is illuminated from below with a white light.
"Hi. I'm Gandolf Edward, welcome to Crossing Under," Gandolf said with casual ease.
He takes a quick deep breath and lets it out slowly. He rubs his hands together briefly as he stares down at the disk. Then, suddenly he looks up at the gallery toward the right side and straightens his tall pointy hat.
"I'm coming over here," he said. He steps in that direction, approaching the edge of the bright disk. "I'm getting an older male. I think it's for someone back there," he adds, pointing to the back row. "He claims to be a father figure and I'm getting a...it's like...a unique ess name...like Sar or Saur...it's an ess arr sounding name. I may be off on the name, but I'm never wrong on the initial or the sound."
Naturally, no one bothers to respond right away. Gandolf points once again to the back row of the gallery. "I've got an older male claiming to be a father figure with a unique ess arr name like, Sar-on."
Someone finally raises a hand and one of the sound techs rushes over with a boom mic.
"I think that might be for me," a robed man said when the mic arrived.
"Do you understand the ess arr name?" Gandolf asked.
"I'm an ess arr name," the man said.
Gandolf stares at the disk for a moment as if thinking or communing with the other world. "If you are then there's another ess arr name." Glancing up at the man, Gandolf asked, "What's your name?"
"Saruman," the man replied.
"No. That's not what I'm getting. Do you know a Sauron?" Gandolf Edward asked.
"Yes," Saruman said. "He's...."
"No!" Gandolf said quickly. "My job." He glanced away to more easily concentrate on the subtle energies of the spirit world. "He's still claiming to be a father figure," Gandolf said. "Is your father crossed under?"
"Yes, but Sauron isn't my father...exactly," Saruman said.
"He's claiming to be above you," Gandolf said. "That to me is father, uncle, grandfather...."
"He was, sort of a mentor, you might say," Saruman said.
"But he was older than you," Gandolf said, nodding. "Much older he's telling me."
Saruman nodded back.
"He's showing me...." Gandolf stops himself. "First, I have to tell you that I really don't like doing jewelry and it's for this reason. It's something we all have. Everyone has some piece of jewelry whether it's a necklace or a bracelet or whatever that gets handed down. And all the sceptics are at home now with their clipboards writing down 'Ooo! He's going to use the jewelry bit!'"
Gandolf and the gallery all chuckle and laugh. Then, Gandolf turns serious again. "But I do have a rule and that's I give it as I get it. They give it to me and I pass it on." After a moment to calm himself, he continues. "Alright. He's still showing it to me. He's showing me a ring. A gold ring."
"A gold ring?" Saruman asked.
"A gold ring," Gandolf repeated. "He's saying, 'one one one'. Now it's...it's more like...'the one', 'the one' and he's showing me the ring again." He looks at Saruman again. "Does, 'the one' mean anything to you?"
"The one ring?" a short person sitting next to Saruman asked.
Saruman glared at the short person sitting next to him.
"Are you related?" Gandolf asked the two.
"No!" they both replied.
"We're...aquaintances," Saruman said.
"You came together?" Gandolf asked.
"Uh, yes," Saruman replied.
"Sort of," the short person added reluctantly.
"To me you're family then," Gandolf said. "If you came together then your relatives on the other side joined up and came together too."
"I doubt it," Saruman muttered with another glare at the little person.
"I'm getting a fr...fro...fro...." Gandolf quieted and listened to the thoughts coming into his head. "I'm getting a froda or frodo?"
"I'm Frodo," the small person sitting next to Saruman replied.
"You're...Frodo? Really?" Gandolf asked as if he didn't believe it himself. Frodo nodded. "He's telling me that you have the one and he's showing me the ring again. He just won't get away from that ring!"
"Yes," Frodo said. "It's right here." He pulled out a chain from beneath the tunic he wore and from it hung a golden ring. "Everybody always called this, 'the one ring'."
"Ohh! That's why he keeps saying 'the one' and showing the ring," Gandolf said. "It's because that's what it was called."
"Ask him if I was supposed to get the ring," Saruman said.
"No!" Frodo said.
"Easy, Frodo," the short and heavier set man sitting on Frodo's other side said.
"Sam, I'm supposed to..." Frodo began.
"No!" Gandolf said. "My job." He smiled at the gallery and they chuckled. "He's telling me that the one who bears the ring is the one to carry the ring. I'm getting a pull to my left, to me that's to the west. Mor...mor...mordor. What's that?"
"Mordor is a place," Saruman said.
"Is that out of my state?" Gandolf asked.
"Uh, quite some distance, I would say," Saruman replied.
"He's telling me, 'the one to Mordor, the one to Mordor'," Gandolf said. "Does this mean anything to you?"
"Yeah," Frodo said. He glanced at Saruman. "It means you don't get the ring."
"He's pulling his energy back," Gandolf said. "Just know that he saw this as his way of coming through...."
Saruman tried to grab the ring from Frodo but the little hobbit was quicker than he looked and he tucked the ring back into his tunic while he leapt out of his seat and stepped back. Sam jumped up and placed himself between his friend and the tall Saruman.
"Can we get security out here?" Gandolf said, stopping the show in it's tracks.
Several dark clad men came from opposite directions and converged on Saruman. Saruman glared at Gandolf angrily. "If my staff wasn't confiscated when I got here, you and these hirelings of yours would be dust and ash Gandolf!"
One of the dark clad men cuffed Saruman and they led him out of the studio.
"Frodo, we need to talk after the show," Gandolf said seriously.
-=-
I hope you enjoyed my little contribution. I couldn't resist doing a Crossing Over With John Edward parody, particularly, when after spending a few days reading the previous posts, I dreamt a part of the scene above.
Some possible tips for the lawyers
dstrauss,
I think Galadrial and partners have missed at least two other countercharges in their filing.
Yes, I'm talking about :
1) Racial discrimination--Hobbits belong to an obscure race against which many of the great powers of Middle-earth have shown a pattern of neglect, or even abuse (recall the history of Sauron's proxy attack on the Shire through his orc minions).
2) Discrimination against the disabled--Hobbits are stature-challenged or differently statured, whichever term happens to be more politically correct at the moment. I can't recall the exact name of the statute involved--something like the CIDA (Children of Iluvatar with Disabilities Act). Of course, since this stature issue is a racial characteristic, your client's opponents might challenge this charge on the basis that it is subsumed in the previous charge of racial discrimination.
DISCLAIMERS:
1) Since I am not licensed to practice law--nor likely ever to be, I hope-- the counter-plaintiffs should seek the advise and assistance of qualified legal counsel before acting on the above information.
2) Since what I've said is based entirely on a second-hand account of the events (which, as well, I read in a translation by yet another hand) I can offer no evidence worthy of the courtroom. (In other words, it would be a waste of time to subpoena me.)
(But if you recover any damages or otherwise find my information useful, I wouldn't mind an invitation to lunch at, say, the Caras Galadhon Cafe.)
Spammity Spam, Wonderful Spam!
I can't believe this hasn't been done!
At the Prancing Pony Inn:
Pippin (Eric Idle): Evening.
Butterbur (Terry Jones): Evening.
Pippin: Well, what you got?
Butterbur: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg, sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg, bacon and spam; egg, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, bacon, sausage and spam; spam, egg, spam, spam, bacon and spam; spam, sausage, spam, spam, spam, bacon, spam, tomato and spam; spam, spam, spam, egg and spam; (Big Folk start singing in background) spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam.
Big Folk: Spam, spam, spam, spam, lovely spam, lovely spam.
Butterbur: (cont) ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay
sauce served in a Southfarthing manner with shallots and aubergines
garnished with mushroom pate, brandy [ed.-probably an Old Winyards brandy] and with a fried egg on top and spam.
Merry: Have you got anything without spam?
Butterbur: Well, there's spam, egg, sausage and spam. That's not got much spam in it.
Merry: I don't want any spam!
Pippin: Why can't he have egg, bacon, spam and sausage?
Merry: That's got spam in it.
Pippin: It hasn't got as much spam in it as spam, egg, sausage and spam has it?
Merry: (over Big Folk starting again) Could you do me egg, bacon, spam and sausage without the spam then?
Butterbur: Ech!
Merry: What do you mean ech! I don't like spam!
Big Folk: Lovely spam, wonderful spam....etc
Butterbur: Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Bloody Big Folk. You can't have egg, bacon, spam and sausage without the spam.
Merry: I don't like spam!
Pippin: Shh, Merry, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam. (starts Big Folk off again)
Big Folk: Lovely spam, wonderful spam...etc
Butterbur: Shut up! Baked beans are off.
Pippin: Well, can I have his spam instead of the baked beans?
Butterbur: You mean spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, and spam?
Big Folk: Lovely spam, wonderful spam...etc...spam, spam, spam! (in harmony)
Someone please touch this up to make it sound more like Butterbur and the hobbits>
quote:
Originally posted by susato
As if by Rush Limbaugh
(Pretenders guitar riff – Chrissy Hinds is mortified.)
Here, in my formerly nicotine-stained fingers, I hold notes for a new book. The Way the "Lord of the Rings" Ought To Be
(loud rusting of paper)...
I haven't gone through the entire thread, but I what I've read so far is brilliant! This is really a total rip-off of Paul Auster's "The Music of Chance", I only changed a few words, but I think it's ok none-the-less.
For one whole year he did nothing but run, travelling back and forth across Middle Earth as he waited for his luck to run out. He hadn’t expected it to go on that long, but one thing kept leading to another, and by the time Frodo understood what was happening to him, he was past the point of wanting it to end.
Three days into the thirteenth month he met up with the man who called himself Strider. It was one of those random, accidental encounters that seem to materialize out of thin air – a twig that breaks off in the wind and suddenly lands at your feet. Had it occurred at any other moment, it is doubtful that Frodo would have opened his mouth.
But because he had already given up, because he figured there was nothing to lose anymore, he saw the stranger as a reprieve, as a last chance to do something for himself before it was too late. And just like that, he went ahead and did it. Without the slightest tremor of fear, Frodo closed his eyes and jumped.
It all came down to a question of sequence, the order of events. If it had not taken the wizard six months to find him, he never would have been on the road the day he met Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and therefore none of the things that followed from that meeting ever would have happened...
For NDP
Here's your "Usual Suspects" parody, NDP. Yeah, I know Legolas wasn't at Minas Tirith or anything, but I needed a sniper.
THE USUAL FELLOWSHIP - directed by Brian Singer
EXT. MINAS TIRITH - DAY
LEGOLAS stands on the walls of the citadel, arrow nocked and drawn, looking down at the NAZGUL on their BLACK WINGED STEEDS, circling FARAMIR and his men below. Legolas stares down the shaft of the arrow at the Nazgul.
LEGOLAS
(muttering)
One...two...three, four, five...six seven...eight...nine. (beat) Heh. Eowyn was a fag.
Oh, and <b>Epigramcracker</b>, I'm glad you liked it. What's scary is how little is changed. All that stuff about the evil eye is actually in there.
That liberal arts education has to be good for *something*...
It is typical of Butterbur's that not a single person, man or Hobbit, batted an eyelid when Gandalf materialized out of thin air and plopped semi-graciously onto a barstool. Sam Gamgee didn't even drop a note in his rendition of "The Road Goes Ever On".
"A pint of your best, Butterbur," he said as a smoke ring shaped itself into the infinity symbol above his head.
Slurping the foam from his beer, he turned to the assembled crowd. The room grew silent; when Gandalf spoke even the dog stopped wagging.
"Well", he said. "It seems that the One Ring has been loosed on the world again."
He took another draught while he waited for the rooba rooba to die down.
"Yes, it's true. Sauron casts his evil eye across the world to once again claim the power that once was his. Long ago, the One Ring was wrested from him, and over the years it has made its way through many hands until it has come to rest in the Shire. Now, it must be delivered to Mount Doom before the Dark Lord can find it and regain the iron hold on its one power that he once held."
More rooba rooba.
"But Doc...I mean Gandalf!..." broke in Frodo. "If Sauron had such a tight hold on the One Ring, how was it ever wrested from him in the first place?"
"Don't you know...," said the wizard, as a slow, sly grin appeared through his whiskers. "There's only one thing that can get the One Ring off the hand of Sauron."
"You mean?..."
"That's right....Lard of the Rings."
from "The Barstools of the Rings" by Spider Robinson.
Request for Clark Savage, Jr., and Co.
Someone, PLEASE try your hand at "Doc Savage." I don't have any of the books any longer for reference, or I'd try it myself.
I don't know which might work best--
1) Keep original Middle-earth characters and settings, adjusted to sound like Doc Savage & co. with a hint of 1930's atmosphere.
2) Re-set LotR in a more Doc-like world of 1930's with the 102nd floor headquarters, the gadgets, the Monk & Ham-style banter (and "Holy Cow!"), the Mayan (Smaug-ian?) gold, Hidalgo Trading Co., the secret upstate "hospital"--or House of Healing--for criminal minds, and of course, the occasional mysterious trilling sound from the Doc-character. (Probably = Gandalf, since they're both wizards of one sort or another.)
But I suspect the first alternative would be a bit easier.
In either case, the Ring would of course be the creation or archaeological? discovery of a power-mad genius bent on world conquest--perhaps a Hitler-like figure, and a Saruman-puppet henchman of his who probably winds up getting sent to the upstate compound in the end.
I can't wait to hear this if someone will take it on.
mithril, mithril everywhere...
Such brilliance.. have a look at the wonderful http://lyingmofo.ohskylab.com btw.
Here's my puny attempt:
Khazad-dûm
by J.R.R. Coleridge
In Khazad-dûm did evil fall
And stately Aragorn despair:
Where Gandalf, wizard grey, he fell
Through caverns measureless by ell
Down to the Endless Stair.
Up twice five miles through carven stone
With staff and sword he chased alone:
Until he reached the lonely Durin's Tower,
Where awaited him an incensed bleeding Balrog;
And here both sides were matched by equal power,
Expiring to go to the Halls of Mandos.
...
(Nothing rhymes with Balrog. Except Azog, but that's another story..)
Everyone's so ... AMAZING!!
I love all you ppl's creativity. I am in awe.
More of Khazad-dûm
klai and others:
I can only remember the beginning of the second part, after the lacuna-like break resulting, it is said, by the interruption of the infamous visitor--was he from Bree? I don't remember exactly. (You'll recall that the poet claimed to have composed or envisioned the first part during a miruvor-enduced trance--or was it a funky batch of pipeweed?)
It goes something like this:
A damsel with a mithril harp
in a vision once came to my sight:
It was a Lorien elven-maid
And on her mithril harp she played
Singing of Mount Everwhite.
...
Can anyone remember the rest?
quote:
(Nothing rhymes with Balrog. Except Azog, but that's another story..)
klai, I love your "Xanadu!" Absolutely brilliant! I'll never be able to hear the original again.
Lord of the Rings - Ringo Style
Lord of the Ringo! – As per request by the population of the Baen.Ringo newsgroup, This is my take on how John Ringo would have written Lord of the Rings.
“Ok! Let’s move!” Gandalf yelled and gestured down the cavern, away from the fire. “That should hold them, but I don’t know for how long! Sergeant Aragorn?”
“Sir!”
“Redistribute Corporal Gimli’s ammo amongst the Hobbits. They can’t fight worth s**t, so they may as well make themselves useful!”
Shots rang out from behind the team as they dashed on towards the bridge. Goblin snipers had taken up vantage points in the walls and were shooting down at the fleeing troops. Luckily, they were well out of effective aimed range of Goblin AS-215 Shortbows.
“C’Mon!” the Leftenant bellowed. “We’re nearly there.”
No sooner had the words left his lips but his armour chirped and his HUD began displaying a glowing red icon.
“Shit! We’ve got Incoming!”
A Balrog class heavy tank hove into view, its many turrets spitting fire. The lighter railguns mounted on the sides for anti-infantry operations couldn’t penetrate the Fellowship’s armour, but the main gun, firing 200mm depleted-Uranium discarding-sabot rounds would wipe them out in an instant.
Gandalf reached the bridge and spun in place, levelling his own Grav-Rifle at the approaching leviathan as the remainder of his team sprinted past and across the narrow bridge to safety.
“Ok you mother f**ker…” He intoned, charging the gun and initialising his targeting software “… You ain’t makin’ it past me. So let’s dance.”
__________________
"There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; That's Philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next
fact; That's Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy's Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster's factor; That's Engineering."
And now for something completely different...
What if LoTR was done by, say, DeBeers?
DeBeers LoTR
Boy, work sure is tough today...!
LotR by IBM
Lord of the Rings - As written by IBM
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A/N 66579822315
WOW! I SALUTE YOU!
I am not a fan of the LOTR books but I must say this.
Please let me salute all of you. I can't believe this thread could exist. You guys are so well read! I am sure JRR Tolkien himself must have been very proud. I cam not only in awe with you guys (and girls), but you just got the real author's style and expressions. So true! I especially like the parodies of famous authors. I wonder why don't you guys do a Moby Dick version, or Things Fall Apart. I am sure you will do great.
My favourites in here are plenty, special note to the Sun Tzi part. Anyone read Journey to the West? Care to do one on that? What about Jeffrey Archer? Perhaps their styles are not prominent enough?
Excellent!
BTW...
BTW...sorry the clip is in Real, but it's what I have to work with for compression here at the office!
The Case of the Lost Ring
By A. Conan Doyle
Fog dimmed the windows of our comfortable rooms at Bag End, Hobbiton, as my friend Frodo Baggins and I took our ease before a crackling fire one autumn afternoon late in the Third Age of this World. Suddenly Frodo’s voice broke the silence.
“Never fear, Sam, we shall see Bilbo again one day. I am sure of it.”
“My dear fellow, how on earth did you guess what I was thinking?”
“I never guess, Sam,” he answered reprovingly. “I knew you were thinking of Bilbo—your thought processes were as clear to me as a rain-curtain of silver glass.”
I demanded an explanation.
“Elementary, my dear Sam. I noticed you rubbing, as though in pain, at the toe you stubbed in the melee after Bilbo’s strange disappearance at his birthday party. You then glanced longingly at the cupboard where the remaining bottles of Old Winyard are stored, after which you shook your head and tut-tutted, no doubt wishing that he had left the key behind. It was a simple process to deduce that you were pining for the old fellow.”
As always, I was astounded by my friend’s astuteness.
Just then someone rapped sharply at the door. I opened it, noticing with chagrin a fresh chip in the coat of green paint I had just applied, and admitted a tall, stooped visitor clad all in black. Although the hood of his cloak hid his features, I caught a glimpse of one burning eye. With an air of frantic desperation, he cried out, “Mr. Baggins, I have urgent need of your services. I have lost a ring, a very precious ring. It must be found. You are my last hope!”
Frodo motioned for our new client to take a seat and then said, “Now, then, tell me all about it. Omit no detail, however slight. . . .”
Yet another from Sir Walter Scott, this time a stanza from The Lay of the Last Minstrel:
Breathes there a hobbit with a soul so dead
Who, to himself hath said, "This is my own, my precious?"
Whose heart hath within him burned
As in his hands the ring he hath turned
Whilst wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe go mark him well,
For him no minstrel raptures swell
High though his title, proud his name
Boundless his friendships as wish can claim,
Despite those titles, power and pelf,
The wretch, concentered all in self
Dying shall forfeit fair reknown
And doubly dying, shall go down
Shall go down to the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, Unhonoured and Unsung.
More Music turned Tolkien
Questin' to Mordor
with apologies to: Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, and Desmond Child
Once upon a time
Not so long ago
Frodo used to live in the Shire
Fellowship’s broken up
He's down on his luck...it's tough, so tough
Stryder fights the orcs back all day
Slaying for his clan, he keeps them at bay
For man – for man
He says: We've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it makes quite a difference
If we make it or not
We've got the one ring and Sauron’s hot
For man – we’ll toss it right in!
Woah, we're half way there
Woah, questin’ to Mordor
Take the ring and we'll make it - I swear
Woah, questin’ to Mordor
Legolas’ got his bow strung taut
Now he's holding back with the
Strength of ten men – he’s smooth, sooo smooth
Samwise dreams of running away
Frodo cries in the night
Smeagul whispers: Precious they’ll pay, someday
We've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it makes quite a difference
If we make it or not
We've got the one ring and Sauron’s hot
For man - we'll toss it right in!
Oh, we're half way there
Woah, questin’ to Mordor
Take the ring and we'll make it - I swear
We've got to hold on ready or not
You live for the fight when it's all that you've got
We're half way there
Woah, questin’ to Mordor
Take the ring and we'll make it - I swear
Woah, questin’ to Mordor
Talia (first filk...ugh!)
"The Dreaming Hobbit"
by Isak Dinesen
Galadriel had washed little Frodo and watercombed his hair. She had also, a few hours before, hurriedly informed him of the situation with the ring and his own station in life. The hobbit had received the news in silence; he only asked her how the tall, pale elves had found them. "Oh, by the smell," said Galadriel.
Frodo had got up onto the Step-Ladder of Galadriel to look into the blue basin and witness the blue future of the fellowship. He was still standing tip-toes on it, when Galadriel, in her pale blue dress, the color of Destiny, came behind him and lifted the surprised hobbit up to the basin's stony rim. The hobbit turned and gazed straight into her almondine blue eyes. For a moment the two looked at each other. But, which was the elf, and which the hobbit?
She said: "Let me tell you a story, Frodo Baggins. When there is only one person in the world whom you care for, and that is an orc-hunter, and he is dead, then that is a pity."
"Yes," said the hobbit. "And now I understand everything."
A hundred feet in the water he lowered his webbed feet and strained to hold a painful hard twisted curve through his swimming. The curve meant that he would swim slowly, and now he slowed until the ocean stood still above him. He narrowed his eyes in fierce concentration, held his breath, forced one ... single ... more ... inch ... of ... curve .... Then he stalled.
Gollums, as you know, never falter, never stall. To stall in the water is for them disgraced and it is dishonor.
But Gollum, unashamed, stretching his hands again in that trembling hard curve - slowing, slowing, and stalling once more - was no ordinary bird.
Sullivan shook his head. "If our friendship depends on space and time, then when we finally overcome space and time, we've destroyed our own brotherhood. When you come to the edge of all the light you have known, and are about to step out into darkness, Faith is knowing one of two things will happen; There will be something to stand on, or you will be taught to fly. The only answer I can see, Gollum, is that you are pretty well a one-in-a-million bird. Do you have any idea how many lives we must have gone though before we even got the first idea that there is more to life than eating, or fighting, or power in the Fellowship? A thousand lives, Gollum, ten thousand! And then another hundred lives until we began to learn that there is such a thing as perfection, and another hundred again to get the idea that our purpose is to find that perfection and show it forth. Do you know what perfection is?"
"Yessss," said Gollum. "It's my preccccioussssss. My preciousssss. And I wants it!"
-- Richard D. Bach, "Jonathan Livingston Smeagol"
Joss Does LotR
Lord of the Rings – As written by Joss Whedon
“Oh no! Xando!!”
Buffagorn looked down at where Sam was cradling Xando’s head in… He hadn’t realised it up ‘till now, but Sam was in fact a girl… So it was ‘her’ lap.
“Don’t worry Sam!” Buffagorn rested his hand on his new friend’s shoulder. He had met the Hobbits, or the ‘Scooby gang’ as they liked to be called, at the Prancing Pony in Bree. He was still having trouble with accepting his destiny, not to mention his Girlfriend… “He’ll be fine. I know someone… Angelwen Evenstar… She’s an Elf and her father’s magic can heal Xando.”
Sam sniffed loudly and wiped away a tear. “Really?”
“Sure.”
Off on the other side of the clearing, the other two scoobies were sitting, feeling a little left out of the action. Cordeliadoc – known as Cordy – was busy attending to her nails, while the final member, Peregrine Osbourne (A rocker hobbit going by the stagename of Poz) was tuning his Lute. Cordy sighed.
“This is Sooo lame… I mean, Xando gets a tiny scratch from those Nazgul dorks and the next thing you know Sam is hanging all over him. That just sucks… Aren’t you jealous and stuff?”
Poz looked up from his Lute tuning and glanced over at Sam, sniffing over Xando’s still form.
“No.”
Cordy huffed and went back her nails.
Buffagorn lifted his head, scenting something on the wind.
“Ah! Finally!”
There was a sudden burst of light and a beautiful woman rode into the clearing, she was wearing black leather from head to toe and had a look of bleak, despairing darkness splashed across her brilliant features. As she swung down from the saddle, Buffagorn ran to her and threw his arms around her slight shoulders. She responded by tilting her head up to kiss him.
“Buff…”
“Angelwen… I know I swore I’d never call you but…”
“Buff… You know we can never be together… My immortality and my father… Not to mention my race mean that we can never be together… But I can’t get you out of my heart! Oh Buffagorn!”
“Oh Angelwen!”
Continuing our Joss Whedon season…
Lord of the Rings – ReWritten by Joss Whedon (No. 2 – Firefly)
“Gorramit!!”
*************
This series’ ratings are too low and, as such, it has been cancelled – The Fox Executives.
*************
__________________
"There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; That's Philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next
fact; That's Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy's Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster's factor; That's Engineering."
The Sick Hobbit
by J.R.R. Blake
O Frodo, thou art sick.
The invisible wraith
That rides in the night
With the howling wail:
Has smelt out thy ring
Of gold alloy:
And his dark Mordor blade
Does thy life destroy.
********************
..and all this night, i'm thinking:
"Be sure your sins will find you out!"
more Blake, I'm afraid..
Balrog
A Balrog, Balrog, burning hides
In Khazad-dûm, within the Mines,
What nigh-immortal hand or eye,
Could tan thy fearful (and thick) hide?
In what distant deeps or mines,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
And when the drums began to beat,
Who raised alarm to sound of feet?
What the horn and what the noise,
That managed to disturb your poise?
How the intruders that were chased,
Dared your deadly terrors face!
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist cold metal into your heart?
Did you misjudge the grey-attired,
The wielder of the Hidden Fire?
When the party dropped their gear
And wailed and fled thee shedding tears:
Did you smile your work to see?
Did you ask why one didn't flee?
Balrog, Balrog, burning bright,
Falling downwards into night,
What nigh-immortal hand or eye,
Now tans thy fearful (and thick) hide?
**************************
..had to slightly shuffle lines about, alas.
(more William Blake)
Where did you sleep last night, fey elf?
Where did you lay your head?
I lay my bow on the mossy earth
and made myself a bed,
and in the morning ate lembas
and then towards Rohan sped.
(does anyone know the original poem? I got this from Nancy Willard's _Visit to William Blake's Inn_, in which she used the scansion and rhyme scheme of Blake's poetry...)
More from William Shakesfoot. (.."Shakesfeet!")
***
Scene 29 act vii -
Moria.
The Goblins disperse.
Gimli: Hah!
Legolas: Look! What light through yonder tunnel breaks?
Boromir: What new manner of devilry is this? The Sun?
Gandalf: A Balrog. We must make haste.
Exeunt Fellowship
***
Scene 29 act viii -
Upon the stairs:
Legolas leaps.
Gandalf leaps.
Boromir: To leap, perchance to scream - to scream -
Seizing Meriadoc and Peregrine, he leaps.
Aragorn: What ho Dwarf!
Gimli:Toss me? You'll not Toss me,
A Dwarf! - out of the question!
'Tis not nobler in my mind to be slung across -
What outrageous fortune!
Gimli leaps.
Gimli: Unhand my beard! Bah!
A rock through yonder staircase falls.
Aragorn and Frodo follow through in perilous advance, they leap.
Exeunt Fellowship.
***
Scene 29 act ix -
Khazad-Dum, a Bridge.
Enter Gandalf
Balrog: ROAR
Frodo: Gandalf!
Gandalf:I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Arrghh! Get thee back to the shadow!! THOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!
Gandalf shatters bridge, Balrog falls
Balrog ROAR, whippity whippity snap.
Exeunt Balrog
Gandalf:
It has befallen as yet must I.
Run you fools, alas, parting is such sweet sorrow.
Exeunt Gandalf.
Frodo:GANDALF!
Exeunt Remainder of Fellowship
***
Scene 30 act i -
A rocky hillside.
Aragorn:Tarry not good hobbit, for we must away.
Boromir:The sake of pity on your merciless head, Master Aragorn.
The little ones have need of rest.
Aragorn:Master Boromir, time is fleeting. Grief is a melancholy sweet , but such mercy would see you riddled with arrows.
Yonder hills will awaken in a pestilence most foul, 'ere night falls. We go henceforth to Lorien.
Ho, Legolas.
Exeunt all.
***
Scene 31 act ii -
The forest
Gimli:Young hobbits, attend me fast. Mystery attends this wood, a mighty sorceress wreathed in malice.
Look not into her eyes, lest thee be bewitched.
But fear lightly - my footfall is as silent as light, and the gaudy fops will never find us hence -
Enter Elfin.
Haldir:What ho Master Dwarf. Your stench bears the vileness of an unkempt privy, and your footfalls are like as to awaken even the most dead of corpses.
Gimli:Bah!
***
abridged - gift giving scene accredited to John Marlowe
***
Scene 47 act ii -
Upon a boat
Gimli:If visions be the food of love, dream on.
In that suffering surfeit of it, I may sicken and so die.
Three fine hairs of her head, did she gift to me, 'ere I asked for but one.
My lady is most fair, and I shall love no other.
Legolas:Henceforth wear yellow stockings, cross gartered, for Galadriel will surely find that most becoming.
Legolas smiles.
***
Scene 47 act iii
Upon a shore.
Legolas frowns.
Aragorn: What concerns you, Master Legolas?
Legolas: I feel toil, and I smell trouble, something hunts us, footsteps double.
Meriadoc: Has anyone seen Frodo?
Samwise: Master Frodo!!
***
Scene 47 act iv
In the woods. Frodo is alone.
Enter Boromir, gathering wood.
Boromir What-ho, Master Frodo.
Frodo What-ho, yourself.
Boromir The hour is late. I feel the weight you bear, little one...
Frodo Stay your tongue, for I know what you would say, and yea' though it may sound the most wisest truth, my heart tells me it would not be so.
Boromir:Young Master, are you mad, or what is this?
That you keep the hope of us all,
without any mitigation nor remorse of choice?
Dear Frodo, I must be round with you.
My liege would bade me tell you that though we would harbour you as a kinsman, it is as nothing to the threat of Mordor.
If, and it would please you to do so,
You will give me that ring.
Frodo: I bid you Farewell!
Exeunt Frodo.
***
"Frodo looked sharply round, saw the ring, smelt to his hand, and cried, 'Gollum, you have debauched my finger.'"
-- Patrick O'Brian, 'H.M.S. Sauron',
(with apologies to a certain sloth...)
(One of mine, reposted from another forum.)
Of LotR as an "Audience Participation" event, in the style of Ye Olde Proclamation...
* * * * * * * * * * *
That Which Has Not yet Come to Pass - (but probably will...)
When all have been released, yea' there shall come forth a great "Screening", and all who attend shalle sitte for nine hours - nine, for the Fellowship - to watche the whole thing righte through to the very tiny credits at the ende.
All shalle wear a dress fancie or somesuch and many times those who come as elves shalle be told to "sitte downe more", by the unfortunate who came as dwarves or hobbits, that have the cinema seats behinde.
And the one hundred and fifty nine people who comme as Gandalf the Grey wille be asked to remove their hats. They will be expected to arrive at their seats precisely when they mean to, on the strict understanding that this is on time, and never late.
All shall be expected to quote the correct lines of elf-speak, and all shall go "oooh" at the fireworks, cry "Gandalf!", "Preciouss", "Come and Claim Him", "Master Frodo!", "Speak Friend and Enter", and humme merry songs of Roads going ever onne and onne and so-on and so-forth, at appropriate points during the course of the screening.
Whenne a scene of Orc presentness occurs, all may wave little light-sticks that glow in a blue fashion.
No firing of arrows is permitted at any stage, especially not at the screen, or at personnages who come dressed as Boromir.
Atte the intermission, forty two of the Gandalfs (who came better prepared) may retire to the reste-room to change into appropriate garments of white.
Whenever the Riders (Rohan or Wraith) set forthe, a livelie accompaniment on coconut half-shell is encouraged. (refere to Monty Python and the Holy Graile for further instruction in this matter.)
When the banner of the king is unfurled, all shall cheere mightily, save for those who come ringed as Wraiths, Orcs, Uruk-hai, or Sauron. These may be permitted to boo quietly.
* * * * * * * * *
Management rules:
No smoking of pipeweeds is permitted in the theatre.
No throwing of Palantirs, no releasing of insects.
No casting of rings, biting of fingers, or eating of smelly fish.
Slinking, Stinking, Sneaking and Swooning to be kept to a minimum, and no Tossing at all.
Blowing of the Horn of Gondor is permitted, but only where appropriate.
At all other times it must be kept switched off, until such a time as the owner is no longer inside the theatre.
* * * * * * * * *
~Tblue.
* * * * * * * * *
GREAT EVERYONE, and HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hey, how about a New Years Address (late) by Sauron or Saruman?
A Journey to the Center of Mordor by J.R.R. Verne
Chapter One: My Uncle Makes a Great Discovery
Looking back to all that has occured to me since that eventful day, I am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures. They were truly so wonderful that even now I am bewildered when I think of them.
My uncle was a Baggins, and my mother, a Brandybuck. Being very much attached to his fatherless nephew, he invited me to study under him in his home at Bag-End. THis home was in a large town, and my uncle a professor of philosophy, chemistry, geology, minerology, and many other ologies.
One day, after passing some hours in the library-- my uncle being absent at the time-- I suddenly felt the necessity of renovating the tissues-- i.e., I was hungry, and was about to rouse up our old Gaffer, when my uncle, Bilbo Baggins, suddenly opened the street door, and came rushing upstairs.
Now Bilbo, my worthy uncle, is by no means a bad sort of hobbit; he is, however, choleric and original. To bear with him means to obey; and scarcely had his hairy feet resounded within our joint domicile than he shouted for me to attend him.
"Frodo-- Frodo-- Frodo--"
I hastened to obey, but before I could reach his room, jumping three steps at a time, he was stamping his right foot upon the landing.
"Frodo!" he cried, in a frantic tone, "are you coming up?"
Now to tell the truth, at that moment I was far more interested in the question as to what was to constitute our dinner than in any problem of science; to me soup was far more interesting than soda, an omelette more tempting than arithmetic, and an artichoke of ten times more value than any amount of asbestos.
This is, I deem, rather grose....but anyways:
Shania Twain: That don’t impress me much, the Middle-earth remix
I’ve known a few wraiths who thougth they were pretty bad
But I guess you take the price when it comes to that
You think you’re a With King, you drive me up the wall
You’re a regular original scare-’em-all
Oh-oh you think you’re special
Oh-oh you think you’re something else
So you are one of the Nine
That don’t impress me much
I think you’re cool, but have you got the touch
Now don’t get me worng, living death is all rigth
But it can’t keep me warm in the middle-earth nigths
That don’t impress me much
You’re one of those guys who likes to draw out his sword
Claiming by rigth of birth that you’re Gondors High Lord
I can’t believe you kiss that blade goodnigth
Come on baby tell me you must be joking, rigth?
Oh-oh you think you’re special
Oh-oh you think you’re something else
So you’ve got Narsil reforged
That don’t impress me much
I think you’re cool, but have you got the touch
Now don’t get me wrong, being king is all rigth
But that won’t keep me warm in the Middle-earth nigths
That don’t impress me much
I never knew a halfling who carried the One Ring in his pocket
And the on a chain –just in case
I guess you’re just to damn well scared that you may go drop it
’cause Eru forbid it should land the wrong place
Oh-oh you think you’re special
Oh-oh you think you’re something else
So you’re the Ringbearer
That don’t impress me much
I think you’re cool, but have you got the touch
Now don’t get me wrong, small-size men are all rigth
But that won’t keep me warm in the long, cold lonely nigths
That don’t impress me much
(dumdidumdidum etc.)
Waddaya think you’re Sauron or something?
That don’t impress me muuuuuch.......
-------------------------------------------------------------
LoTR by John Gray
On Mars, the men are interested in the goal of getting the Ring to the volcano. They may become depressed if they doubt their usefullness to the cause of the Ring. The character of Aragorn shows us the male tendency toward "caving". He has withdrawn to objectively process what is going on in his life. Eventually he can return to process his feelings about the ring.
Meanwhile, the Venusians want to talk about their feelings regarding the ring. They don't need to be given solutions by the Martians. They can support the Martians in their quest by Appreciating, Accepting and Trusting them.
LoTR by St. John
In the beginning was the ring. And the ring was with Sauron and the ring was Sauron. The same was in the beginning with Sauron. All things were made dark by the ring, and without it was not anything made dark that was made dark. In it was death, and the death was the darkness of men.
Saruman: The Cartoon Theme Song
Think of this song with the theme to Spider-man cartoon in your head.
Saruman, Saruman
Does whatever a wizard can,
Casts a spell, serves an eye
Just an all around evil guy
Look out
Here comes that Saruman
Look out
The Ring is a source of power
Gandalf badly needs a shower
Here comes that Saruman
How about VH-1's Behind the Magic: Frodo Baggins?
NARRATOR: Frodo Baggins thought he had it all... a spacious hobbit-hole, an inheritance to last a lifetime, even his own personal gardener. But years of travel and a pipe-weed addiction brought it all crashing down around him. Tonight, we'll ask friends...
SAMWISE: ...it was about that time he started hitting the lembas pretty hard. He'd be on his fourth cake before second breakfast, he would...
NARRATOR: ...acquaintances...
INNKEEPER: ...left me inn without so much as a word, with 'orrible screamin' goin' on at all hours of the night and the sheets and pillows all ripped to shreds...
NARRATOR: ...and enemies...
GOLLUM: We hatess tricksy hobbittses!
NARRATOR: ...about this "Bad-boy of Bag-end," his meteoric rise, and crashing fall.
I wanted to do a Jack Chick tract, but Frankd6 beat me to it with an outstanding one! I still think my favorite of the whole thread is Epigramcracker's William Carlos Williams one... Just brilliant.
"Battlefield Middle-Earth" by Elrond Hubbard
No need for text as the style would be quite unreadable anyway.
__________________
Vicar General
Crusade For Capitalism
Church of the Almighty Dollar
myrthynn: kudos on the Verne, excellently done.
Here's a shot at the first stanza of To Arwen, derived from Poe's To Helen. The speaker is to be imagined as Aragorn.
To Arwen
Arwen, thy beauty is to me
Like famed Earendil's ship of yore,
That over the dark, forbidden sea
The wayworn mortal messenger bore
To reach the Undying Shore.
Improvements/continuations welcome!
"Stopping by the Mines of Moria on a Snowy Evening"
by Robert Frost
Whose Ring this is, I think I know;
His tower is in Mordor, though.
His Eye won’t see us stopping here
To run away from all this snow.
Our pony Bill must think us queer
For taking our baggage off his rear,
Between the wall and murky lake
Outside these mines that Aragorn fears.
The Hobbits give their feet a shake--
No dinner?! There is some mistake!
The only other sound’s the sweep
of slimy tentacles breaking the gate.
The Mines are lovely, dark and deep.
But Sam’s got promises to keep,
And miles to go before he sleeps,
And miles to go before he sleeps.
Elrond Hubbard, that was awful, I mean even without a single word of the text... elrond.... it was there the whole time.
I salute you for your cleverness, although it is painful...
as written by Naoko Takeuchi...
This is so great. I love them all, especially Douglas Adams Mark Twain, Ayn Rand, Harry Potter, and most definitely the Terry Pratchett one. Too funny!
Cause the DBZ one amused me... (though idea of an over-muscled Gandalf makes me shudder)
LOTR, as written by Naoko Takeuchi...
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love of Sam by daylight
Always injured in a real fight,
He is the one named Frodo Moon!
He will never turn his back on a friend,
Though the Ring has a wicked trend.
He is the one on whom we can depend.
He is the one named Sailor .....
.... Sailor Shire!
.... Sailor Lorien!
.... Sailor Gondor!
.... Sailor Rivendell!
With his magic ring,
driving him insane
He is the one named Frodo Moon!
Fighting evil by moonlight
Winning love of Sam by daylight...
With his Sailor Fellows Nine to help fight,
He is the one named Frodo Moon!
He is the one named Frodo Moon!
He is the one... Frodo Moon!
Hehehhe Another n00b jumps on board the for the One Thread, with this humble offering by...
<center><b>They Might Be Dwarven <i>Moria</i></b>
Moria was Khazad-dûm, now it's Moria, not Khazad-dûm
Been a long time gone, old Khazad-dûm
Now it's orcish delight in the endless night
Every orc in Khazad-dûm lives in Moria, not Khazad-dûm
So if you've a date in Khazad-dûm, she'll be waiting in Moria.
Even Lorien was once Laurelindorinan
Why they changed it I can't say, people just liked it better that way
So take me back to Khazad-dûm, no you can't go back to Khazad-dûm
Now it's Moria, not Khazad-dûm, why did Khazad-dûm get the works?
That's nobody's business but the Dwarves. </center>
<i>Mercilessly filked from They Might Be Giants' "Istanbul" </i>
<center>------------------------------------------------------------------ </center>
Or to take another track, theres the EULA...
This is a legal agreement ("Agreement") between you (either an individual or an entity), the end user ("RingBearer"), and Sauron Corporation ("Doomsoft"). BY WEARING, DISPLAYING OR OTHERWISE USING THE RING (AS DEFINED BELOW), YOU AGREE TO BE BOUND BY THE TERMS OF THIS AGREEMENT. IF YOU DO NOT AGREE TO THE TERMS OF THIS AGREEMENT, DO NOT WEAR, DISPLAY OR USE THE RING.
DOOMSOFT CORPORATION LICENSE AGREEMENT FOR PRERELEASE HARDWARE
Doomsoft Mobile Invisibility Toolkit Beta 2 Accompanying this Agreement is a prerelease copy of the Doomsoft hardware identified above, which includes hardware and related documentation and information (collectively the "One Ring"). The One Ring is protected by copyright laws and international copyright treaties, as well as other intellectual property laws and treaties. The One Ring is licensed, not sold.
Keep up all this fabulous writing!
What if LotR had been written by someone else
Terribly enjoying all the brilliant versions---
however the vast majority of could have been writers have been picked from the English speaking world
I have seen several Binary versions but real Geeks would write LotR in c, c++ or perl ( though a smalltalk version would be interesting ) but that is beside the point I was trying to make:
Obvious choices for Authors from Germany ( I'm not touching that with a citzen of Poland that is 3 meters tall ) are:
J.W.Goethe and obviously the "Faust".
Friedrich Schiller: either "Wilhelm Tell" or "Die Raeuber"
Gothhold Ephraim Lessing: based on "Nathan" ( hey it contains 'the Ring parable' )
Guenter Grass either "Blechtrommel" or "Ritterkreuztraeger"
Heinrich Boell "Die verlorene Ehre der Katharina Blum" into "die verlorene Ehre des Smeagol"
Further fun could be found by rewriting Dante ( Inferno!) or Voltaire ( Samwise or 'the best of all possible worlds')
but I would not exclude "Cyrano de Baggins" either.
Flaubert could have written Madame Baggins-Sackville.
Also interesting could be a strict socialist rewrite in the fine tradition of the people who made out Shakespeare as a proto socialist.
I have never attempted to read Karl Marx but
"The Ring Manifesto" has a certain ring to it (sorry )
And it shouldbe possible to find parallels between the RED[!] book of Westmarch and the little red book of chairman Mao.
1001 Nights is full of magic rings so "Ali Baba and the 40 Nazgul" is not impossible.
One might also attempt exeedingly bad taste with "Sauron: My Fight" or even the musical version "Springtime for Sauron".
Also (yet) missing is LotR in full buerocratese.
Hoping that this post - while not supplying actual rewrites - has at least given some inspiration.
quote:
Originally posted by DSAFIRE
Even Lorien was once Laurelindorinan
Why they changed it I can't say, people just liked it better that way
So take me back to Khazad-dûm, no you can't go back to Khazad-dûm
Now it's Moria, not Khazad-dûm, why did Khazad-dûm get the works?
That's nobody's business but the Dwarves. </center>
More Iron Chef dishes
[QUOTE]Originally posted by cerberus uberunderdog
[B]IRON CHEF – LEMBAS BATTLE
I nearly fell off my chair! But the Witchking is at a severe disadvantage here; please accept my offering of 3 more dishes for him to serve.
Challenger Witchking is offering 2 dishes:
- Filet of Fell Beast topped with a Lembas-crumb crust
- Scorched Malice Cake Flambe – in the shape of Orthanc, with a ring of fire around it
- Dead Marsh Watercress salad with Lembas Croutons
- Warg Broth and Lembtzo Ball Soup
- Shredded Roasted Steed of Rohan, in a cream sauce, over sliced toasted Lembas
There, that makes it a more even contest. <grin>
RE Joss Whedon's-
is that Samya Gamgankya the ex-Balrog or Sammow Gamwistein the "homely nerd/undercover hottie/aspiring wizette & eventual lesbian" (who eventually hooks up with Tarosie)?
the fellowship manifesto (or, how the bish stole mordor) --part 1
*per request*
--note, bishounen and all of its derivatives (e.g. bish-y, bishiness) means 'general all-around pretty-boy'--
(by the way i bow down to all of you!!! you're amazing!)
PART I. The Dark Forces and the Fellowship
the history of all of middle earth is the history of power struggle.
dwarf and elf, gondor and rohan, dark overlords and wizards, samwise gamgee and the gaffer, have stood in constant opposition to each other, carried on in both in secret and in open war for ages, over who exactly is the most bishounen of all.
in all of history, there has been an order of society: the elves dominate, making even pointy ears look hot. the men, while cute, spend too much time in the mud. plus they all fancy themselves prettier than the rest of their companions. the wizards, while not very bish-y, do lead around all the bishes and are cool by association. then the dwarves, well, we can just skip right on past them, can't we?
so this little heirarchy of bishitude, while causing enviousness from basically everyone but the elves, and probably the wizards (although you never can tell with those maiads), was simply accepted as the way of middle earth.
then a gent called sauron came along and got together some evil friends, all of whom were incredibly ugly. and they wanted desparately to be bishounen, but just couldn't see how ugly they really were. poor chaps. so they came around and stirred up some animosity by handing out rings to some elves, men, and dwarfs, saying that 'the more your race got, the bishier you were' which, of course, stirred up even more animosity, since they gave the elves 3, dwarfs 7, and men 9. so they all were used as pawns into the dark lord's evil chess game of bishiness. all they had to do was beat each other up enough to make them all hideous beyond recognition, and the orcs could finally feel pretty.
but one man named isildur had his eye on a golden ring that the dark lord was keeping for himself. he cut it off his hand with a broken sword and took it for his own. and he pranced around gondor wearing his ring, but realised soon that it made him so pretty he was invisble to all other eyes. just completely beyond the bishy limits of the eyes of men.
so no one was surprised when he died and the ring disappeared. some ugly hobbit with a horrible grasp of grammar took the golden ring and turned into a frog-man. not very bishy. not at all.
meanwhile the rest of the races middle earth were just bishing about, hating each other. silly silly creatures.
the frog-man lost his golden ring to a hairy guy named bilbo who was not bishy at all, even without the feet. but he took it home and hung out with all the other hobbits for a long time. the ring, it seemed, did have a l'oreal effect after all, it was observed, when bilbo was the youngest looking hobbit at the hobbiton nursing home. but alas, he started to go froggy and gave it to his nephew, who was very very much a bishounen reincarnated into a hairy-footed hobbit for bad behaviour in a past life.
so he and some pals, who were not very fond of the ring and the company that came along with it when the dark lord (rising again to power) found out from frog-man that he had the golden ring and sent out some super-ugly wraiths to deal with him. so frodo and his non-bishy-but-heartwarmingly-loyal pals set off for the elves' bachelor pad in rivendell to give them a birthday present. after all, they were bishy, now weren't they? they'd know what to do with such an artifact.
well after much trouble they made it to rivendell and tried to pass it on to someone else. however, it seemed that there was a meeting of the middle-earth chapter of the u.n. going on at the same time.
so they brought the ring to them, but of course they just talked and talked and talked about it but didn't actually do anything. something about vetos.
so the bishy-hobbit, now fully equipped with a stab wound and psychic ring-connection, snatched back the ring. jealous of the bishy air this hobbit could produce in spite of his giant feet, two men, a wizard, a dwarf, and an elf all said they'd *help him destroy it for the sake of middle earth.* so all the other hobbits got jealous and signed up.
and that's how the fellowship was formed.
the esential condition for the existence, and for the sway of the fellowship, is the destruction of the golden ring; the condition for that destruction is hard labour and compromises of bishitude. the creation of the new dark forces, whose promoter is saruman, replaces the need for fellowshippers to feel pretty, due to the overall abundance of nasty orcs, and their association with the elf legolas, the bishiest of all bishounen. what saruman and sauron, therefore, are producing in these orcs and other evil alliances, is its own downfall (once someone finally decides to get them a mirror and they realize how hopeless their case is). plus, this is only the first half of three long-ass books. their fall and the victory of the fellowship are equally inevitable.
Arda. Middle-Earth. Elven planet.
To understand Aragorn Ellesar Telcontar, one must remember the land of his youth and the intense contrast to the land he eventually ruled. Ellesar did not become a king because he was a hero. He became a hero because he was a king.
-from Princess Arwen Perehil's Ellessar Explained, FO 120
I couldn't for the life of me remember if Dune had been done, so don't jeer me if it has...
Along the Iron Chef routine ... for Shredded Roasted Steed of Rohan ... you could have Hasufel Hasenpfeffer ... but he's the wrong breed of meat
birthday greetings
well i just thought of this..
j.r.r. tolkien was born 3 january 1892, making today his 110th birthday! next year he'd be eleventy-one.....someone should do a tribute
Hasulfel Hasenpfeffer leading me to request a Bugs Bunny routine (Gollum hunting wabbits) for anyone with the inspiration ...
Hehe...I'll try, uberunderdog.
(A peaceful forest. Enter Gollum dressed in hunting gear and carrying a sling.)
Gollum (looking at the audience): Be very quiet. I'm hunting Bagginssssessss...
(Gollum notices big footprints and follows them. Looking at the ground, he doesn't notice Bugs Baggins until he runs into him.)
Bugs: Eh...what's up, Smeag?
Gollum{/b]: Shhh...I'm hunting Bagginsssesss!
[b]Bugs: Bagginsssesss? You don't want one of those! They're tough and stringy. What you want is a Gamgee.
Gollum: Gamgee?
Bugs: Absolutely! Why, here comes one now.
(Enter Daffwise Gamgee.)
Daffwise: What about me? And why'th Froggyboy here drethed up like an L.L. Bean model?
Bugs; I was just telling my buddy Gollum here that it's Gamgee season.
Daffwise: It ith not! It'th Bagginth theathon!
Bugs: Gamgee season!
Daffwise: Bagginth theathon!
Bugs: Gamgee season!
Daffwise: Bagginth theathon!
Bugs: Baggins season!
Daffwise: Gamgee theathon!
Bugs: If you insist...
Gollum: BLAM!
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday, dear
JohnRonaldReuel Tolkien... *whew*
Happy birthday to you!
o/`Eleventy-one next yeeeeeear...o/`
Re: What if LotR had been written by someone else
quote:
Originally posted by acws
I have seen several Binary versions but real Geeks would write LotR in c, c++ or perl ( though a smalltalk version would be interesting )
code:
class Ring { friend class Sauron; public: bool Wear(Person& theRingBearer) { theRingBearer.TurnInvisible(); return mWraithList.Alert(theRingBearer); } bool Rule(PersonList& themAll); bool Find(PersonList& themAll); bool Bring(PersonList& themAll)); bool Bind(PersonList& them, Darkness& theDarkness); const string Heat() const { return mInscription; } private: Ring() {}; ~Ring() { delete gSauron; gThirdAge.End(); gFourthAge.Begin(); } list<RingWraith> mWraithList; string mInscription; }; typedef Ring Precious;
The Bard
Shakespeare:
From out the darkness then his mind did stir,
and thought him then he heard a distant voice.
Dernhelm, it seemed, but also strange, and fair.
Recalling back from long ago a voice
He'd heard in times before the war began.
"Begone, foul demon, lord of carrion!
Return to darkness, leave the dead in Peace!"
But voice both cold and hard did answer thus:
"Come not between the Nazgul and his Prey!
Or he shall not slay thee when comes thy turn.
But bear thee back to tortures far away.
To Houses Lamentation, past darkness,
where all thy flesh shall be devour-ed,
and then will your ruined, hollow and cold
mind be left naked to the lidless eye."
A sword rang out as it was drawn from sheath.
"Do what you will as best you may but I
Will do my best to hinder your fell deeds."
"Thou Fool, no living man may hinder me."
Then Merry heard of all the sounds the one
That in that darkest hour did seem most strange.
It seemed that Dernhelm laughed out sharp and clear.
With clearest voice as light and strong as steel.
"It is no living man who does stand here.
I am a woman, a shieldmaid of old.
Eowyn, I am, Eomund's daughter.
You stand between me and my lord and kin.
Begone if you be not deathless, black knight,
For live or dark undead I smite you will,
If touch you hair or thread upon my King."
______________________________________
Scary how many of Tolkien's lines fit iambic pentameter without changing. Just a nudge here and there. What do you think?
odd makings
*odd this is.... caffienated mind at 1 a.m. is a strange mix... ;P *
1) J.R.R. HORTON, The Singing Gondorian, audio tape side A
-The Battle of Helm's Deep
-Young Aragorn (Make a Tall Tall Man)
-Bill (The Brave Pony)
-Whispering Ents
-Sink the OneRing
2) Scene from BRAVEHOBBIT: at the Council of Elrond
LEGOLAS: Him! That can't be Frodo Baggins! I am prettier than this hobbit! Alright, Mother, I'll ask him! If I risk my ears for you, would I get a chance to kill Orcishmen?
GIMLI: Is your mother a ghost, or do you converse with the Almighty?
LEGOLAS: In order to find his equal, and Elvishman is forced to talk to Elbereth! Yes, Mother! The Almighty says, don't change the subject, just answer the fookin' question!
GIMLI: Mind your tongue!
GANDALF: Insane Elvish.
LEGOLAS: Smart enough to get a bow and arrow past your guards, Old Man.
FRODO: That's my friend Elvishman. And the answer to your question is yes. You fight for me you get to kill the Orcish.
LEGOLAS: Excellent! Legolas is my name. I'm the most wanted elf in my forest. Except, we're not in my forest, of course. More's the pity.
GIMLI: Your forest? You mean Mirkwood?
LEGOLAS: Yeah, it's mine!
GIMLI: You're a madelf.
LEGOLAS: I've come to the right council then.
__________________
~Fuzzy-sama~
"Is that more than my cats?" -Logan's Run-
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."-LOTR: FOTR-
Creedence Clearwater Revival, anyone?
Who'll Bear the Ring? (Who'll Stop the Rain?)
Long as I remember, the ring's been hangin' round
Clouds of mystery falling, confusion on the ground
Sauron through the ages tried to find the One
And I wonder, still I wonder,
Who'll bear the ring?
I went down to Rivendell, seeking shelter from the storm
Caught up in the council, I watched the towers grow
Sauron plans a new deal, wrapped in iron chains,
And I wonder, still I wonder,
Who'll bear the ring?
Heard the black speech spoken, Elrond cried, "No more!"
The council raged together, no one held the floor,
Still the ring kept calling, on and on in my ears,
And I wonder, still I wonder,
Who'll bear the ring?
Mount Doom Rising (Bad Moon Rising)
I see Mount Doom rising
I see Nazgul on the way
I see earthquakes and lightning
I see bad times today
Don't go out tonight, it's bound to take your life
There's Mount Doom on the rise.
I hear the horns of armies blowing
I know the end is coming soon
I fear the Black Gates overflowing
I hear the voice of raze and ruin
Don't go out tonight, it's bound to take your life
There's Mount Doom on the rise.
Hope you've got your ring together
Hope you are quite prepared to die
Looks like we're in for nasty weather
One Eye is taken for an eye
Well, don't go out tonight, it's bound to take your life
There's Mount Doom on the rise.
Loved the Braeheart knock-off... the Irish guy was my favorite character in that movie, and imagining legolas as him is just too funny. Especially beacues Mirkwood IS really his forrest.
Marvin the Martian Ring-wraith
Marvin, engaged in a titanic struggle with Bugs the White (formerly known as Bugs the Grey) at the gates of Minas Tirith, waits as the last inch of fuse on his Acme Destruct-O-Gate burns.
Unbeknownst to Marvin, however, Bugs the White has already slipped the REAL Destruct-O-Gate through a chink in the rear of Marvin's force field, when Marvin had his back turned, and put a plain old Fourth of July-variety firecracker in its place against the gate.
The fuse before the gate burns out. There is a mere "pop" as the firecracker explodes.
Marvin: "Where's the kaboom?! There was supposed to be a gate-shattering kaboom!!"
[Marvin himself is immediately engulfed in a large explosion which reduces him to a small pile of smoking ash. But the ash soon re-assembles itself into a somewhat charred Marvin.
Marvin: "You have made me SO angry!!"
The Lord of the Rings in the style of Red Dwarf
The Place:
The middle decks of the mining ship Dead Dwarves.
The Crew:
Frodo “Lister” Baggins
Sam “Rimmer” Gamgee (aka “Simmer”)
Legolas the Cat
Hollydalf the RGB Wizard
IN THE SHIP AT A DOORWAY LABELED “Moria Nivelo 1”
Legolas the Cat: [Poking Frodo.] Remind me why we’re going in there.
Simmer: [Backing up while eyeing the vanishing scutter Bill as it heads back into well-lit decks.] Yes, remind us why you are going in there.
Lister Baggins: Because we’ve got to throw the ring into Mount Doom -- or something hotter.
Hollydalf: It doesn't make it any easier that the original Mount Doom expired about 3,000,000 years ago -- give or take an age. But we've got the Dead Dwarves’ nuclear engines. Someone’s going to have to make the supreme sacrifice.
Legolas the Cat: [Insincerely.] That’s too bad! [Grudgingly responding to Lister’s stunned expression.] Couldn’t we just hide the ring in the decorations on my gold sequin suit? Or make an earring out of it?
Lister Baggins: [Drooping to one side in fatigue.] Won’t work. It’s becoming . . . too . . . heavy.
Legolas the Cat: [Cheerfully.] I don’t mind suffering for fashion.
Simmer: At least it would be you instead of us, for a change. No, I’m afraid somebody’s got to take the plunge. [Steps smartly in the doorway, then smartly out.]
Lister Baggins: What’s wrong?
Simmer: [An octave too high.] Wrong? Nothing! What could be wrong? [Prods Legolas toward the doorway.] How about a little suffering practice?
Legolas the Cat: [Sniffing.] Uggh! It smells like dwarves in there!
Lister Baggins: Dead dwarves.
Legolas the Cat: [Puzzled.] They don’t always smell that way?
Simmer: [To Hollydalf.] You know, I can’t help noticing that the individuals inside were either in the middle of an extreme knitting event, or alternatively, that they’ve been struck down by scores of unhygienic goblin arrows.
Hollydalf: [Nodding with assurance.] Yeah, they were great ones for knitting bees, those dwarves.
Legolas the Cat: [Peering in.] Look at those suits! Poor guys! They must have been desperate to get out of them! Struck down while undressing. What a terrible way to go!
Simmer: [Sounds of loud smashing behind.] Uh, Holly? Did you put in a order for lunch?
Hollydalf: Would I forget something like that?
Simmer: And by any chance did you happen to use the dispenser outside our room? Because you ought to know Lister was trying to clone vindaloo sauce with a sheep.
Hollydalf: Cor. Not with a live sheep?
Lister Baggins: At the beginning.
Hollydalf: Well then, the good news is that our lunch is self-delivering.
Lister Baggins: And the bad news?
Hollydalf: O, ye of little faith.
Simmer: Skip the sermon, Hol. How bad is it?
Hollydalf: Do you want the full 90 second explanation, or the economical 5 second version? [Loud sounds getting very loud.] Maybe the 5 second one would be best. . . .
Simmer: Does it start with “RUN!”?
Hollydalf: [looking miffed] How did you know? You been looking in my files, again? [They hurry in, swinging shut a heavy armored door, and locking it firmly.]
Legolas the Cat: Man! Is it dark in here!
Hollydalf the RGB: No problem, dudes. I’ll just turn up my IQ, and then you’ll bask in my reflected brilliance. [There’s no visible change whatsoever.]
Legolas the Cat: Man! Is it dark in here! [Sounds of consternation.] I can’t see a thing! I wonder how I’m lookin’? [Peers into the palantir in Hollydalf’s pocket.] Hey! I’m lookin’ good! Hair is good. Clothes are good! My eye is enflamed, though. . . .
Hollydalf: [Snatching it away.] You barmy git! That’s a highly sophisticated . . . device.
Lister Baggins: What’s it for, Hol?
Hollydalf: [Pauses, purses lips, looks to the side evasively] Well, it’s for highly sophisticated communication, isn’t it?
Simmer: [Scoffing.] Counts you out, then.
Legolas the Cat: [Uneasily.] Why can’t they dig mines in the sunlight where you could see where you’re going? Where are we going, anyhow?
Hollydalf: I know the way. I’ve been before.
Simmer: Are you referring to the time you were lost between decks 32 and 45 for six millenia?
Hollydalf: I was doing was a little exploring. Looking for my evil counterpart, an entity whose existence goes right back to the foundations of the Dead Dwarves. It lives hereabouts. . . .
Simmer: [Incredulous.] Lives here? Someone lives in this dismal stench? [High-handedly dismissive.] What a flaming lunatic he must be!
Hollydalf: Funny you should put it that way, really. . . .
Re: The Bard
quote:
Originally posted by valin_mage
Scary how many of Tolkien's lines fit iambic pentameter without changing. Just a nudge here and there. What do you think? [/B]
“Supreme”, “Ring when you’re winning” by J.R.Robbie Williams.
Oh, it seemed forever stopped today
All the lonely elves in Ri’endell
Caught a ship and sailed away
And, oh, pretty Arwen’s carried
By her love; but he is gay
You feel deprived
Yeah are you questioning your size?
Is there a tumour in your Ring,
We can’t see you with our eyes.
Do you leave Sméagol where your sit,
Are you getting there a bit?
Will your survive
You must survive
O what are your really looking for?
This gorgeous Ring in your live to abuse and to adore?
Will it let your do your stuff,
Will it make your path so rough?
Get on your knees
Yeah turn down the love songs that it sings
‘Cause you can’t avoid the mind-boggling
That’s the danger with these Rings
Throw it away – will stop the pain
Into the fire – kill the fear
Do you believe
You must believe
When the Ring’s in Mount Doom
This forsaken Era will start to bloom
All the places you have been
Trying to destroy that Ring supreme
That Ring supreme
I spy with my fiery eye
Something beginning “R”
Got my Nazgul up
And now Sméagol’s screaming so I’ve got to turn the track up
Sit back and watch the Fellowship stack up
I know this wizard, he likes to switch teams
And I’m a fiend but I’m living for a Ring supreme
When the Ring’s in Mount Doom
This forsaken Era will start to bloom
All the places you have been
Trying to destroy that Ring supreme
That Ring supreme
Come and bring the Ring supreme
Don’t let them get you down
Everybody lives for the Ring….
Repeat….
This was surprisingly easy to do... I had to change almost nothing...
um... can't I edit? I left out the first Chorus and wanted to add it but I can't...
LOTR by Miss Jane Austen
The Lord of the Rings,
or, Pride and Proudfeet,
by Miss Jane Austen
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a simple hobbit in possession of a magic ring must be in want of a reason to destroy it. However little known the feelings or views of such a hobbit may be on a wizard first entering the neighborhood, the truth is so well fixed in the mind of such a wizard, that some such reason, however unlikely it might seem, must be devised posthaste.
Fortunately for the wizards of this world, and, indeed, of the next world as well, wizards are subtle and quick to invent excuses. The hobbit in question was a personage of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain digestion, and it took but a few suitably mysterious hand-gestures from the wizard to convince the over-scrupulous hobbit that it was his duty to embark upon an uncomfortable and unprofitable quest with the object of finally destroying this ring without receiving any recompense for such an untoward act.
To answer FriarTed's question...
FriarTed!
Yes, that is quite definitely Samwills Gamsenberg, the mystically inclined, tweed-wearing she-hobbit who finally and, quite romantically, ends up in love (and other places) with Tarosie. However in MY version, all of the Fellowship, including Samwills, bring home lovely Mithrill shirts that Samwills ends up giving to Tarosie.
Turns out to be a good thing, because later on Grima Warrentongue takes a repeater crossbow and goes to take vengence on Buffagorn. In my version, the arrows bounce off their Mithrill shirts and everyone lives Happily Ever After.
__________________
"There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; That's Philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next
fact; That's Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy's Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster's factor; That's Engineering."
I'm posting this for a friend...
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someone want to try Dr Phil (with all the Dr Philisms?)
this came to me while I was napping... *ack*
Scene: a purple foam fellow standing in a fake castle, wearing fangs and a cape. Looks down. Sees something shiny on the ground.
Count: One! One ring! Ah! Ah! Ah! ... Vell, zat is not much to count....
Slips ring on finger. Dissappears. Takes ring off finger, reappears. Sounds of hoofbeats. Zoom out. As Count counts, riders come on screen, form semi-circle around Count, making a nice stage picture.
Count: One! One Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Two! Two Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Three! Three Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Four! Four Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Five! Five Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Six! Six Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Seven! Seven Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Eight! Eight Nazgul! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Nine! Nine Nagul! Ah! Ah! Ah! Nine Nazgul
Nazgul draw swords. Point at count. Fade out to the sound of battle.
This parody has been brought to you by the number 9 and the letter S.
(ack! my childhood! what have we done to my childhood?!)
Zen and the Art of Ring Maintenance
As we crest the rocks overlooking the Dead Marshes I am struck with a sense of familiarity. He has been here before. he took this road many times - before the torture racks of Mordor and 800 mills of amperage at 0.5 to 1.5 seconds twenty times over liquidated his identity. He and I will never meet. But I still have his notes, Smeagol left copious notes.
My foot starts making a squeeking sound and I notice that the webbing has come slightly loose between the second and third toes on the left. Better get that tightend up before we get to the lower altitudes, or it will be flapping like a flagpole rag before we get to the black gate.
Zen and the Art of Ring Maintenance by Robert Pirsig
Awesome Count episode!!! This is an awesome thread! Keep up the genius everybody!
"There was me, that is Gollum, and my two droogs, Precious and Precioussss...." -- Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Ring
__________________
Bob the Random Expert
Roped in by a Texan!
quote:
Originally posted by rjk
"There was me, that is Gollum, and my two droogs, Precious and Precioussss...." -- Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Ring
Re: Re: What if LotR had been written by someone else
quote:
Originally posted by SolGrundy
I can never wrap my head around smalltalk; you'll have to settle for C++ for now. (By the way, this is probably the geekiest thing I've ever written on the internet, and that's saying a lot.)
Actually yesterday was Tolkein's eleventy-first birthday, not eleventieth.
Simply superb. I bow down before the collective genius of this board!
My favourites: Dostoevsky for those with short attention spans, EverQuest, Piplet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, The Matrix... and too many more to list. :-)
My humble submissions:
'Gondor Heights', by JRR Bronte - Frodo makes an impassioned speech to Sam:
"My love for the Shire is like the foliage in the woods; time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for the Ring resembles the eternal rocks beneath; a source of little visible delight, but necessary. ... Sam, I *am* the Ring. It's always, always on my mind -- not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own, my Precious! So do not talk of our separation again..."
(or possibly the Kate Bush version: "My one Ring / My only Preciousssss"...)
~
'The Eye of the Ring', dear ol' Robert Jordan:
"Woolheaded man!" sniffed Arwen, folding her arms beneath her breasts, then unfolding them again so she could tug on her braid.
Aragorn grimaced. If only Legolas were there. Legolas always knew how to talk to girls.
[etc. The story trundles on with all the pace of an Ent dinner party. Frodo gets laid. The Dark One resurrects all his clearly inept lieutenants every few books (endless franchise potential!). And *still* no-one can give a definitive answer on who killed Asmodean. sigh... ]
~
Sorry, they were a bit pathetic, but maybe someone else can run with them?
Requests:
- Spinal Tap
- bad disaster flick, _a la_ Independence Day or some such
- The Office
- Gene Wolfe (ulp)
There's an Eddie Izzard version perculating in my brain (nasty process).
Thanks, everyone, for a great read...
Has anyone done Chris Claremont yet?
I don't know if I'm good enough at parodying people's styles to do it myself, but if it hasn't been done I'd love to see someone do LOTR in the style of Chris Claremont's 80's run on X-Men.
Bill Watterson anybody?
Here's my take on Calvin and Hobbes. Please click on the link. Written and drawn by yours truly.
http://www.boomspeed.com/darkstar128/FrodoSam.jpg
I am absolutely shocked no-one's done this yet...
War of the Rings.
Gandalf (As Narrator): No-one would have believed, in the last days of the Third Age, that Shire affairs were being watched from the endless swamps of Mordor. No-one could have dreamed that we were being scrutinised, like someone who studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility of even greater evil. And yet, across the Mountains of Mist, Forces immeasurably more evil than ours, regarded the Ring with a flame-lidded eye. And slowly, and surely, they drew their plans against us...
Did someone already do the Marquis de Sade?
I'm willing to.
Does some dedicated Tolkienite want to put an index together for this thread? Eru knows we'd all be wonderfully grateful!
I'll do it--I could make it a page on my website that this thread could link to. How's that? I'll start and you guys can approve it.
-Epi
Side Salad with that?
Hey there Qadgop...
Let me guess, big E.E.Smith fan, right? Well, he and Tolkien are from about the same period. Come to think of it, so is Edgar Rice Burroughs. Ever read his Princess of Mars series?
__________________
"There are three schools of magic. One: State a tautology, then ring the changes on its corollaries; That's Philosophy. Two: Record many facts. Try to see a pattern. Then make a wrong guess at the next
fact; That's Science. Three: Awareness that you live in a malevolent universe controlled by Murphy's Law, sometimes offset in part by Brewster's factor; That's Engineering."
quote:
Originally posted by Qadgop the Mercotan
Does some dedicated Tolkienite want to put an index together for this thread? Eru knows we'd all be wonderfully grateful!
__________________
Less Artsy, More Fartsy!
Ring Trekkin' by The Firm
[i]o/` Ring Trekkin'
across Middle-Earth
with this motley Fellowship,
a bright new Age to birth.
Ring Trekkin'
across Middle-Earth,
hounded by our enemies
and things are getting worse!
Elven Prince, Legolas
Orcs approaching from the West,
from the West, from the West!
Orcs approaching from the West,
I'm still the prettiest one!
Ring Trekkin'
across Middle-Earth
with this motley Fellowship,
a bright new Age to birth.
Ring Trekkin'
across Middle-Earth,
hounded by our enemies
and things are getting worse!
The Wizard, Gandalf
It's Evil, Frodo, but not as we know it,
not as we know it, not as we know it.
It's Evil, Frodo, but not as we know it.
Wanna play with my hat?
/Chorus/
The warrior, Boromir
It's worse than that, Gandalf's dead!
Gandalf's dead! Gandalf's dead!
It's worse than that, Gandalf's dead!
C'mere, little Hobbit!
/Chorus/
The ranger, Aragorn
Find those hobbits! Still not king,
still not king, still not king.
Find those hobbits! Still not king.
Still not king. Damn.
/Chorus/
From Imladris, Elrond Half-Elven
You cannot change the Laws of Magic,
Laws of Magic, Laws of Magic.
You cannot change the Laws of Magic.
Do I look good in purple?
/Chorus/
Re: Side Salad with that?
quote:
Originally posted by MarkT
Hey there Qadgop...
Let me guess, big E.E.Smith fan, right? Well, he and Tolkien are from about the same period. Come to think of it, so is Edgar Rice Burroughs. Ever read his Princess of Mars series?
"The Wraiths Are Back In Town" - with apologies to Phil Lynott and Thin Lizzy and well, everyone.
Guess who just got back today?
Those black-clad Wraiths that had been away
Hadn’t changed, hadn’t much to say
But man, I still think them cats are scary
They were asking if the Ring was around,
Where the Shire was, where could Baggins be found?
Told them he was living in Hobbiton
Driving old Lobelia crazy
The Wraiths are back in town
The Wraiths are back in town
The Wraiths are back in to-oow-oww-oww-oownnn
The Wraiths are back in town
Remember that 'Gul who used to hiss a lot?
Every night he’d chase us while we’d try not to get caught
Man, when I tell you he was cruel, he was red hot
I mean he was shrieking
And this time over at Barliman’s place
Well, that Frodo slipped, then vanished without a trace
Man, you shoulda seen Sam's face
If that Hobbit disappears again, forget him!
(Repeat chorus)
Spread the word around – guess who’s back in town?
Friday night, dressed to kill
In a dell on Weathertop hill
The wind will blow and blood will spill
And if the Hobbits want to fight you’d better let ‘em
The Elves in the forest singing out a battle song
The Shadow’s getting closer and it won’t be long
Won’t be long ‘fore Sauron comes
Now that the Wraiths are here again
(Repeat chorus)
P.S. Thumbs up for John Norman parody. By the Priest-Kings, that was great!
Expanding on Edward George Bulwer-Lytton....
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept between the burrows (for it is in Hobbitton that our scene lies), rattling along the burrow-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. Through one of the obscurest quarters of Hobbitton, and among haunts little loved by the gentlemen of the watch, a man, evidently of the lowest orders, was wending his solitary way. He stopped twice or thrice at different shops and houses of a description correspondent with the appearance of the quartier in which they were situated,--and tended inquiry for some article or another which did not seem easily to be met with. All the answers he received were couched in the negative; and as he turned from each door he muttered to himself, in no very elegant phraseology, his disappointment and discontent. “Hobbit. Shire. Bagginsssssss….”
At length, at one house, the landlord, a sturdy butcher, after rendering the same reply the inquirer had hitherto received, added,--"But if this vill do as vell, Nazgul, it is quite at your sarvice!" Pausing reflectively for a moment, Nazgul responded, that he thought the thing proffered might do as well; and thrusting it into his ample pocket he rode away with as rapid a motion as the wind and rain would allow. After many days, he soon came to a nest of low and dingy buildings, at the entrance to which, in half-effaced characters was written "Sauron’s Court." Having at the most conspicuous of these buildings, a workshop, through the half-closed windows of which blazed out in ruddy comfort the beams of the great fires, he knocked hastily at the door. He was admitted by a wizard of a certain age, and endowed with a gaunt thinness of face and person.
"Hast got it, Nazgul?" said the wizard quickly, as he closed the door on the guest.
"Noa, noa! not exactly--but as I thinks as ow . . ."
"Pish, you fool!" cried the wizard interrupting him, peevishly. "Vy, it is no use desaving me. You knows you has only stepped from my boosing ken to another, and you has not been arter the ring at all. So there's the poor cretur a-raving and a-dying, and you . . ."
"Let I speak!" interrupted Nazgul in his turn. "I tells you I vent first to Mother Bussblone's, who, I knows, chops the whiners morning and evening to the young ladies, and I axes there for a Ring, and she says, says she, 'I 'as only a "Companion to the ‘obbit!" but you'll get a Ring, I thinks, as Master Tolkiens,--the cobbler, as preaches.' So I goes to Master Tolkiens, and he says, says he, 'I 'as no call for the Ring--'cause vy?--I 'as a call vithout; but mayhap you'll be a-getting it at the butcher's hover the vay,--'cause vy?--the butcher'll be damned!" So I goes hover the vay, and the butcher says, says he, 'I 'as not a Ring: but I 'as some scrap metal bound for all the world just like 'un, and mayhap the poor cretur mayn't see the difference.' So I takes the metal, Master Sauron, and here they be surely!--and how's poor Judy?"
My very first post. This thread is so much fun. Wish I had something great to post, but the comments on Terry Brooks have already been done. (LOTR couldn't have been written by him as he would have had no one to steal from). Also loved the Elrond Hubbard and all the poetry. Here's a link to the Tolkien Sarcasm page which you all might enjoy: http://flyingmoose.org/tolksarc/tolksarc.htm
Another board I am on posted a link to this thread and I have been laughing (or at least giggling) for days. I would love to see a David Letterman Top 10 list, but after seeing all the other entries know that someone else would do a much better job than I would.
PS - Here's a link to another site with alternative versions of LOTR - many very good, but not as funny as this thread of course:
http://www.flin.demon.co.uk/althist/auth.htm
Check it out ...
How about someone doing LotR in the style of a set of letters to the editor of your local newspaper written by angry, largely ignorant one-issue voters? You know, the ones with lots of phrases about "deplorable behavior" and "that's what's wrong with our country today" and "if he would look around once in a while instead of..." and "After reading so-and-so's letter of October 13th I felt compelled to write" and "if only it were that simple".
Tolkien's books biased
I've managed to keep my silence for the past thousand years, but given the latest round of 'Tolkienism' due to the deplorable movies, I felt it was time to speak up and defend my honor.
When I forged the one ring, it was never meant to serve as a means of absolute rule. Rather it was to allow the kings who wore the other nine to be able to call upon my wisdom more freely. My intent has always been to bring all races together under the common banner of peace and prosperity. Why have the presence of constant racial tension and war? With the guidance I was offering, Middle Earth would see an end to strife and conflict.
Of course, there were certain factions that did not (and do not now) want peace. They conspired against me, trapping me and ultimately inflicting grevious harm upon me. They stole the ring and vowed to use its power for their own lust for grandeur and power. I have spent a very long time searching for that ring only to discover it in the hands of a small fellow named Baggins.
Yes, I did order the nine to find the ring and bring it to me. Yes, there were casualites and injuries along the way. But the hobbits brought it upon themselves. Had they turned over the ring instead of running off to the elves and later, a ragtag band of adventurers. there would have been no bloodshed.
Can people see that I really mean well? My intentions have always been to allow prosperity by joining everyone under one ruler. Just think about it. No more wars or petty squabbles. No more breaking your backs on a daily basis to eek out a minor existence. With one ruler, he can take care of you...
Respectfully yours,
Sauron
Yo yo yo--any homies out there up for Sir Quest-A-Lot?
Yeah, this is one. WEIRD. song. (Who knew all these characters had a foot fetish?) But enjoy!
Hobbits Got Feet
[Enter Haldir and Arwen, having girltalk. They stare at Frodo.]
Haldir:
Oh my god, Arwen, look at his feet…
They are SO big.
He looks like one of those… Fellowship hobbits.
But who understands those Fellowship guys?
They only talk to him because he looks like a total halfling, okay?
[Backbeat starts]
I mean… his feet.
They’re just so big…
I can’t believe they’re so huge—
They’re just out there…
I mean, it’s gross!
He’s just so… HAIRY!
[Enter Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli (with the hobbits as backup dancers)]
Aragorn:
I like big FEET and I cannot lie,
You other brothers can't deny
When a hobbit walks in with an itty bitty ring
Yeah, the kind with the real bling-bling
You just know—
You’re gonna halfta go
Gotta fight that Sauron moFO—
I holler back to my brothers bout questing,
Looks like there just ain’t time for resting,
OH BABY, they call me a ranger
Yeah, I’m set for danger!
My homeboys dig feet too, ya’ll
And unlike some elves we don’t
Like feet too small!
Ooh—bring along the One Ring,
You say ya will destroy that thing—
Well choose me, use me, cuz ya have my sword so don’t lose me!
I've seen them questin'
The hell with protestin'
We’ll rip—this trip—get it goin' like a Balrog’s whip.
I'm tired of all them elves
Likin’ small feet for themselves—
Take the average human and he’ll repeat:
He gotta have big feet! SO
Fellas!
Boromir, Gimli, and Legolas: Yeah!
Aragorn:
Fellas!
Boromir, Gimli, and Legolas: Yeah!
Aragorn:
Have those halflings got the toes?
Boromir, Gimli, and Legolas: Hell yeah!
Aragorn:
Well, flaunt um, cruise um, jog um, use um, SHOW those hairy toes—
Hobbits got feet.
[Instrumental Break]
Boromir:
I like those feet real big
I’ll come along on this gig—
I just can't help myself
I'm actin’ like an animal
Now here's my scandal:
I wanna get that ring
And go—go-back-home—go!
Yeah, I’m talkin' bout Gondor
Cuz down there things are lookin’ like war!
I wanna take Isildur’s Bane back,
Just steal that ring on the double—
Boromir's in trouble
Don’t want my home to be rubble!
So I'm thinkin’ bout dreams that-I’ve-had,
Hearin’ these voices prophecyin’ bad—
Can’t ignore it no more,
The evil’s comin’ from Mordor.
A word to my Gondor homeboys,
We gotta face the noise,
War’s our only choice!
And I gotta be straight when I say we gotta fight
Til a new age DAWNS!
And with the One-Ring on
We could change the tune of this song.
Cuz those orcs, once they see it they’ll flee it—
And we’ll get to stay and play.
Cuz we’re men! And we’re in!
We’ll be rulin’ Middle Earth again!
So Frodo!
Frodo: Yeah?
Boromir: Frodo!
Frodo: Yeah?
Boromir: Just give me the ring and you can go-go!
Frodo: No!
Boromir:
Then I curse you!
Curse you all!
I’ll just think of how your feet aren’t small,
Hobbits got feet.
[Short music break]
Gimli (talking):
Yeah baby…
When it comes to hobbits…
The Shire ain’t got nothin’ on MY Fellowship.
Feet 15 by 5 inches? Heh heh.
Only if they’re 3’2”.
Legolas:
Othah elves, they see a star when
They behold the face of Arwen,
But Arwen ain't got her feet so well evolved (read Darwin!)!
This elf guy, he won’t go unless you got TOES, YO!
You can do pedicures or scrubbings, but please don't lose those feet!
Some brothers just can’t stand the smell, so
They tell you that the feet need to go—
So they toss um, and leave um,
And I breeze right in to retrieve um!
So Galadriel says they’re fat,
Well I ain't down with that!
Cuz your ankles are small and your feet are kickin'
And I'm thinkin' bout stickin'
To this mission-quest-thing, to destroy this ring,
Cuz it just ain’t right, That Thang!
Just send the halflings—they ain’t so baffling
Cute prizes at Elrond’s raffling!
Aragorn:
That knucklehead tried to dis
Cuz these hobbits weren’t on his list!
But I laid down my life to protect um,
Cuz those feet—they just make be respect um.
Boromir:
So hobbits, if you bring the ring—
Legolas:
And your feet are bout the size they call King—
Gimli:
Dial 1-900-Fellowship, and we’ll get right on this trip!
Aragorn:
Hobbits got feet.
All:
If yer smallah, give a hollah if you got big feet…
If yer smallah, give a hollah if you got big feet…
[Repeat and Fade]
Well, I tried to think of an original one, so hopefully it is
The One Ring, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
In front of a grassy-mound, in the shire, stood a bearded man, in solomn-coloured garments and a gray steeple-crowned hat stood with his eyes intently fastened on the oaken door, for he was the wizard, Gandalf. The wooden edifice, by a strange chance, had been coloured by way of paint or some other form of dye a shade of green, long after the fall of the gigantic pines and oaks that the hue and sprung up around, whether it being of personal or cultural taste, we shall not take upon us to determine. Finding it so directly on the threshold of our narrative, which is now about to issue from that inauspicious portal, we could hardly do otherwise than to view the object held in by the might of the former foliage. It may serve, let us hope, to symbolise the wild and evils in this world, which hath spring forth from the land from where such a colour exists in abundance; as some moral lesson that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale of hobbit and human frailty and sorrow.
The bearded one took a hold of his staff and tapped this cage to the fate of Middle-Earth. "Good Sir," said a hard-hearted hobbit of considerable age, "I'll tell ye a piece of my mind. It would be greatly for the public behoof if you sir, being of sound mind and body, would take your leave of this shire, I being a God-fearing gentleman." "Mercy on me, old friend," exclaimed the wizard. To an answer of his plea, the great gate parted to reveal a hobbit of stout proportions and manner. A curious delight painted itself across his features, like a dove gliding swiftly over them, and making one little pause. His face beamed with some powerful emotion, which, nevertheless, he so instantaneously controlled by an effort of his will, that, save at a single moment, its expression might have passed for calmness. After a brief space, the convulsion grew almost imperceptible, which he acted upon intensely.
"Gandalf! The sight of you gladdens my heart!" cried Bilbo, for that was the name of this particular hobbit. In a spit of enthusiasm, the unlikely duo met in an embrace. "Bilbo Bagens, though the time between or encounters has distanced quite too far, you appearance has remained constant and unchanged," said Gandalf. The sight of this Bilbo having looked has he did in the days of they're adventures had concerned Gandalf, for he might have been kept alive by some magic, oblivious to the true nature of this magic being that of the ONE RING, so fantastically engraved and shimmered upon his bosom. It having now affects his, weighing his heart and polluting his soul.
Epigramcracker: That is wrong. Brilliant, but wrong.
Awhile back someone requested a Nora Roberts version, so here it is.
Two excerpts from Destroying the Ring, the thrilling third installment in Nora Roberts' #1 bestselling saga of fantasy romance novels. Also read Finding the Ring and Bearing the Ring...
.......The night was black, blacker than any night Merry could remember. The young hobbit felt a sick horror rise within him at the sight of the evil winged shadow rising above the battle plain. All were dead, all, or they had fled in terror!
The king was dead.
He saw again in his mind how Theoden's horse had fallen, trapping the king helplessly beneath the body of the great animal. Merry relived the moment the hidious flying creature had landed upon the horse, its claws digging into flesh. And he despaired.
A voice in his mind cried, You swore to fight for him! He was like a father to you! But his conscience could not overcome the blind fear that was swiftly overtaking him.
Then, out of the blackness of the night came a voice, a voice he could not quite recognize. A voice he did not expect.
"Go away, you disgusting creature! Leave him in peace!"
The Lord of the Nazgul answered, his voice chilling Merry to the bone. "Move! Or I will kill you where you stand! Or perhaps I will take you to Sauron. He will devour your body, and torture your mind!"
Merry heard the ringing of a sword being drawn. "Go ahead! Try to get to him! You'll have to get through me!"
"Ha! You fool, you think you can try to stop me? No living man can stop me!"
The cowering hobbit then heard the strange, clear sound of laughter echoing out over the battle plain. "But I'm not a man! You're looking at a woman, a red-blooded Rohan woman. Eowyn is my name, and my father was the great warrior Eomund. Get out of here, now! I swear to God, if you so much as touch him, I will kill you!".......
.........It was good just to be alive.
Faramir felt the sun on his back as he wandered through the garden. He could almost feel the blood flowing vigorously through his veins, and it was a good feeling. But he instantly felt guilty, too, that he was here safe in Gondor, while others were risking their lives elsewhere. He glanced eastward towards the horizon.
"My Lord Faramir." The voice of the Warden startled him, and he turned around. And saw her.
Later, when he could think clearly, he would decide it had been like having a battering ram plowed into his chest. Not stopping his heart, but jump-starting it. His heart, his blood, his loins, his brain.
She wasn't beautiful, not in any classic sense. What she was, was spectacular.
Her hair was corn gold, a long mane that flowed down over her shoulders. Her skin was creamy white, and her features were sharply drawn - the narrow, aristocratic nose, the high cheekbones, the delicate yet somehow strong jawline. She was perfect. Striking, sexy, superb.
Yet somehow, somewhere beneath her exquisite exterior, Faramir sensed an unbelievable amount of anguish. She was vulnerable, incredibly vulnerable - someone had hurt her, badly. His first thought was to enfold her in his arms, to take that hurt away.
"My lord," said the Warden. Faramir shook his head, trying to wake himself from the reverie. "This is Lady Eowyn of Rohan. She was badly wounded in the battle of Pelennor Fields, and has been recuperating here. I've tried to keep her quiet, but she isn't happy here and insists on speaking with you."
"Oh, don't minsunderstand me, my lord," she said bitterly. "This is a great hospital, and I'm sure that it provides excellent care for those who want to be healed. But I can't stand being caged up here! Not while the war is still being fought."
Faramir waved the Warden away, and turned to face her, taking her hand in his. He thought he would drown in the sorrow in her eyes. "What do you want me to do, my lady? I'm a prisoner here, same as you."
Eowyn saw the tenderness in his eyes, and she felt her heart flutter in response. Despite his sensitivity, she could feel the strength in his grasp, and she knew that here was a man who could match any of her countrymen in battle. If those powerful arms were around her, could he remove the darkness?.......
I've tried my best to emulate Nora Roberts' style...it strikes me now that this also reads a bit like the crappy novelization of the Lord of the Rings movie (if such a thing were to be written, God forbid).
quote:
Originally posted by mocroidh
Epigramcracker: That is wrong. Brilliant, but wrong.
Middle-Earth under the True King, not Sauron!
Re: Mr. Sauron's letter to the editor
The recent letter of Mr. Sauron seemed to imply that he in effect holds the right to claim sovereignty over this Middle-Earth. However, it is my duty as the keeper of the library of the records of Gondor here in Minas Tirith, capital of the restored joint kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, to set the matter straight by pointing out that, in fact, this is not the case. Mr. Sauron does not hold rightful overlordship over Middle-Earth, nor has he ever had such a right.
The overlordship of the Númenórean line of Kings over the peoples of this Middle-Earth cannot be disputed, as the line was established by the Valar themselves upon the founding of Númenor nearly 6500 years before the so-called War of the Ring. This Eru-given right is further (though unnecessarily) underscored by the fact that the Númenóreans are the direct descendants of the Edain; those Houses of Men in the First Age who were loyal to the Valar, Rulers of Arda, and thus to Eru Himself.
In fact, numerous studies have shown that the wars and disturbances upon Middle-Earth have nearly always been the result of Mr. Sauron's instigation. He is seen to have incessantly urged the non-Númenórean peoples of Middle-Earth to wage war upon their rightful rulers.
Therefore I must conclude by saying that the events of the War of the Ring as translated by Mr. Tolkien from records left by the Hobbits are accurate, and that if there is a bias in them it is surely a bias towards the recorders, ie. the Hobbits, rather than against Mr. Sauron.
Bereg
(Keeper of the King's Records, Minas Tirith, Gondor)
quote:
Originally posted by saxamaphone
Well, I tried to think of an original one, so hopefully it is
The One Ring, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
... The wooden edifice, by a strange chance, had been coloured by way of paint or some other form of dye a shade of green, long after the fall of the gigantic pines and oaks that the hue and sprung up around, whether it being of personal or cultural taste, we shall not take upon us to determine. Finding it so directly on the threshold of our narrative, which is now about to issue from that inauspicious portal, we could hardly do otherwise than to view the object held in by the might of the former foliage. It may serve, let us hope, to symbolise the wild and evils in this world, which hath spring forth from the land from where such a colour exists in abundance; as some moral lesson that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale of hobbit and human frailty and sorrow. ...
JD Salingers Catcher in the Shire
Goodbye Gandalf' I said, hoping to leave before he attempted to change me.
'lifes a game Houlden Baggins, play by the rules....good luck'
'I hate that phrase'
Man he was a phonie, a totally phonie, unaware and uninvolved. He drove me crazy. All he ever cared about was that stupid ring.
I decided to give ol' Sam a ring, he understood, well at least i think he did. He could be a phonie too, especially when he was with Rosie. She drove me crazy.
'how'd your date with rosie go'
I'd known Rosie a few years before she'd met Sam
'yeh not bad, i might sleep with her'
Man i loathed him, he didn't even know her, you dont just sleep with a beautifal girl if you dont know her'
I tried to punch him, but he was too strong and he wrestled me to the ground.
'Your odd Houlden Baggins'
'I decided to leave earlier, having been evicted from the Shire. I had nothing to stay for, besides I'd seen Gandalf'
I decided to go on 'vacation' to New Rivendell. I thought I'd lie low before i had to face Bilbos wrath. He gave me the stupid ring, i never even wanted it, and now everytime i see him he goes mad, man he kills me.
I arrived late and just sat watching the waterfall falling under the stars, I was almost happy. Some elf behind me kept saying
'You know what that is, thats perfection'
Man he killed me. I had to leave.
quote:
Originally posted by Pucky Schumer
Well done, Saxamaphone! Having just read Seven Gables, I contemplated a Hawthorne version myself. Yours is excellent. (Which work were you basing yours on, or just Hawthorne in general?)
It was mostly based on The Scarlet Letter, but I was going after an overall Hawthorne feel.
Ring Show with David Letterman
(I haven't read all these posts (yet), so I don't know if this has been done.)
David Letterman: Wake the kids, call the neighbors, it’s time for tonight’s Top Ten list. Tonight’s list is “The Top Ten Reasons to Throw The One Ring Into The Fires Of Mount Doom.”
(Paul Schaeffer and band play opening lines of “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash)
(Dave stares blankly at camera for a minute, then):: Hee hee. Here we go. The Top Ten Reasons to Throw The One Ring Into The Fires Of Mount Doom. Reason Number Ten…
(he pauses)
Ya know, Paul, I wonder if The One Ring would float?
(Paul is caught off-guard, but replies) Well, Dave, we know that Smeagol found it at the bottom of a river, so it must not float. Then again, we also know it can change its size and its weight, so one could assume that it could make itself very large but light so that it would be less dense than water and would thereby float.
(Dave stares blankly at Paul for a minute, then says): So you’re saying you don’t know.
Paul: I have no idea.
Dave: Well, let’s get this over with. Once again, if you’re scoring at home, these are The Top Ten Reasons to Throw The One Ring Into The Fires Of Mount Doom.
Number 10: Two words—Dwarf Tossing!
Number 9: because chicks dig a guy who’s been on a quest
Number 8: For the Shire!
(Paul echoes loudly) For the Shire!
Dave: Hee hee. What does that mean? I don’t even know what that means. I should start coming to rehearsals. (sighs dramatically)
Number 7: That Legolas—he’s elf-tastic!
Number 6: Because Sauron is really the president of CBS.
Number 5: So that after the world is saved I can introduce Bilbo and Frodo to Yoko Ono. “Bilbo, Yoko. Yoko, Bilbo. Yoko, Frodo. Frodo, Yoko.”
Number 4: So we can film it and make gobs of money.
Number 3: To see if it floats.
(turns to Paul): Now that’s funny, because we were just discussing that a few minutes ago.
Paul: That’s right, we were. Just a moment ago, right here, we were discussing whether or not The One Ring would float…
Dave: And what did we decide? I wasn’t paying attention.
(Paul laughs, says nothing)
Dave: Once again the category is Top Ten Reasons to Throw The One Ring Into The Fires Of Mount Doom.
Reason Number 2: To win the affection of Galadriel. She’s the “Lady of the Wood” –if you know what I mean.
(Dave looks to Paul): Do you know what I mean, Paul?
Paul: Uh, you mean she lives in a forest, right?
(Dave ignores him and continues with the list)
And the Number One Reason to Throw The One Ring Into The Fires Of Mount Doom: That whole “triumph of good over evil” thing.
Ok, we’re going to take a commercial break. When we come back we’re going to play, Know Your Rings of Power.
(band plays “Ring of Fire” – fade to commercial)
“Howl”
for Samwise Gamgee
I saw the best Men of my generation destroyed by the one ring, raving hysterical faded
Dragging themselves through the mordor shale at dawn looking for an angry Eye,
Angelheaded nazgul burning for the ancient heavenly connection to isengard’s dynamo in the machinery of night,
Who comfort and mithrilcoats and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking pipeweed in the subterranean coziness of hobbit-holes floating across the tops of cities contemplating songs,
Who bared their brains to Sauron under the Palantir and saw Osgiliath angels staggering on fortress roofs illuminated,
Who passed through wizardschools with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Rivendell and Bombadil-light tragedy among the scholars of war,
Who were expelled from Rohan for crazy & raising obscene armies on the foothills of the Mark,
Who cowered in dead marshes in elvencloaks, cooking their coneys in hobbitpots and listening to the Precious through the falls,
…
What sphinx of iron and steel bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Sauron! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable Precious! Hobbits screaming under the stairways! Orcs sobbing in armies! Old Men weeping in the fields!
Sauron! Sauron! Nightmare of Sauron! Sauron the loveless! Mental Sauron! Sauron the heavy judger of Men!
Sauron the incomprehensible prison! Sauron the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Council of sorrows! Sauron whose buildings are judgement! Sauron the vast Eye of war! Sauron the stunned Stewards!
Sauron whose mind is pure machinery! Sauron whose blood is running metal! Sauron whose fingers are ten armies! Sauron whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Sauron whose ear is a smoking tomb!
…and so on. Part II sorta writes itself.
-Ulterior, with apologies to Allen Ginsberg.
Haven't seen Robert Burns yet:
Wee timid, hungry, half-grown hobbit,
Living in hole like ony rabbit,
Ye need not gang, ‘gainst a’ thy habit,
Near Auld Mon Willow
Where’er ye next come to the road,
The Ringwraiths follow.
And go not nigh the wight in barrow
Thy courage sma’ his touch will harrow
But get thee on to Bree tomorrow
And meet with Strider
His wisdom may suffice to hide thee
From yon Black Rider
I doubt not, Weathertop may give
Thee cause to doubt, but thou maun live!
To Rivendell, to council grave
Thy errand goes.
And onward, to the Mount of Doom,
Through hosts of foes.
Let Isengard by Ents by ruined.
And Fellowship can find its truants,
Ye must awa’ to Orodruin
Wi’ Sam alane
Though Gollum lead you false, and Orcs
Pursue in vain.
Sauron’s might thou’lt break again
Better than did Isildur then
The best laid plans of Maia and man
Gang aft agley.
But Aragorn and sweet Arwen
Shall wed in joy!
Still thou art curst, who bore the Ring
To find no joy in any thing
So seek the Havens grey, and sing
Earendil’s song
To Elvenhome across the sea
The way is long.
Laughter stimulates the immune system. This thread beats echinacea hands down.
An entry in the Free On-line Dictionary of Computing:
Rings of Power
<magic, jewlery> Tools used by Sauron during the Second and Third Ages in an attempt to gain ultimate power over Middle Earth.
See also Aragorn, Baggins, Bilbo, Baggins, Frodo, Elrond, Fellowship of the Ring, Galadriel, Gandalf, Gimli, Gollum/Smeagol, Isildur, Legolas, War of the Ring, and many others.
(1761-03-06 <S.R.> )
Try this search on OneLook/Google
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nearby terms: Brown, Radagast the « Redhorn Gate « Riddermark « Rings of Power » Ringwraiths » Rivendell » Rohan
Magic: the Gathering
The One Ring
(8)
Artifact
When The One Ring comes into play, sacrifice a Hobbit or place The One Ring in your opponent's library.
(1) --> Target creature gains phasing until end of turn.
The One Ring does not untap during your untap phase.
Sacrifice an Elf to untap The One Ring.
If game ends with The One Ring still in play and controlled by you, sacrifice Soul and become a wraith.
Good one, jayjay!
Anyone wanna try a Yes, Minister version?
Heh...thanks, Michael.
As an adjunct to my Magic card above...
Sammath Naur
Land
--> Add one red mana and one black mana to your mana pool.
Sacrifice Sammath Naur to destroy The One Ring.
As written by Michael Moorcock: End of Return of the King.
Frodo then took the One Ring himself and slipped it upon his finger. A crazed and hellish look came upon his face as he gazed upon Sam.
"Mr. Frodo, destroy the ring!"
"Never you sad fool! I have the power I need, almost. If you would stand against me I will strike you low as well."
"All right, Mr. Frodo, it pains me to say it but, if you think you must
slay me if you will."
Frodo drew Sting which had become black and rune-covered.
Sting howled in hunger as Frodo plunged it into Sam's chest.
"Sweet God! The pain!" Sam cried before slumping forward.
Removing the blade from Sam's body the blade turned on Frodo and ran him through.
"Sting!" he breathed before feeling his soul slip from his mortal
frame.
Gollum sprang forth from the darkness and let out a small
cry as Sting impaled him as well.
Sting's from twisted into a dark and hellish shape, vaguely
resembling that of a man.
Plucking the One Ring from Frodo's finger the beast cast a glance
toward Minas Morgul and the heart of a Sauron's realm and laughed.
"I was thousand times more evil than thou!" it said and flew off into the night with it's new found prize.
Re: Bereg’s Fanciful Notions as Printed in the Biased Record
It is with no small sense if dissatisfaction that I read Mr. Bereg’s response to my just and righteous claims. While I balk at using the term “libel” to describe portions of his account, as the old epoch goes: if the shoe fits…
The so-called “overlordship of the Númenórean line of Kings” in Middle Earth was nothing more than a self-gratifying exercise in overweening pride and nationalism merged with equally questionable practices of colonialism. I should point out that Númenor had no dominion in Middle Earth, the Númenóreans having been granted a charter by the Valar to their own great island kingdom far to the West of Middle Earth. I should also point out that my previous employer, one Melkor Morgoth -- a Vala himself -- had already staked a legal claim of dominion over Middle Earth as it was uninhabited prior to his arrival. Also, in direct opposition to Bereg’s claims, it was not I who instigated war with Númenor, but rather the elves who instigated trouble by trespassing on Morgoth’s dominion claiming they were “seeking recompense for lost property” or somesuch nonsense.
Even if their outrageous claims were true, I was not even involved, being only a minority stockholder in Morgoth’s holdings at the time and not responsible for any of his maverick business practices. Númenor, regrettably, was brought into the affair at the request of these same elves, who, after successfully lobbying the Valar to have Mr. Morgoth evicted, brought their grievances to my doorstep in Mordor while squatting on my former employer’s lands -- which, incidentally, by legal right passed to me, as I was the sole remaining senior officer of the company after Morgoth’s humiliating removal.
In what I feel was an incredibly gracious gesture on my part, I welcomed the Númenórean delegation, despite their obvious intentions of attempting a hostile takeover of my holdings, and even served the Númenórean king and his descendants as a state adviser for years thereafter without pay. When the Númenórean enterprise foundered some years later after an unsuccessful attempt at a hostile takeover of the Valar (or, as I like to put it, the arrogant twits finally got too big for their britches and reaped what they’d sewn), it was they who, with the assistance of those same miserable, troublemaking squatter elves, instigated war against me when I attempted to pick up the pieces and get the company going again! This, of course, is where the usage of the rings came into it -- a misunderstood stroke of genius on my part. Eru forbid they allow me to help them! Oh, no! And this after wrongful termination from the service of the king and the irreplaceable casualty of my corporeal body! Enough was enough, people, of course I was going to fight back!
The wars and disturbances upon Middle-Earth have, in fact, Mr. Bereg, nearly always been the result of the elves’ instigation. They have incessantly urged the Númenórean and non-Númenórean peoples of Middle-Earth to wage war upon its rightful ruler, namely me. Do you do your own research? Or are all men of Gondor so short-sighted? Unequivocally, the events of the War of the Ring as translated by Mr. Tolkien from records left by the Hobbits are inaccurate and biased. I should sue the lot of you for slander, let alone damages.
Mr. Sauron
President/CEO, Mordor, Inc.
Hello! I decided I'd better register to post a contribution to this great thread!
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Full Mithril Jacket
(excerpted from the screenplay by J.R.R. Kubrick)
INT. RIVENDELL -- DAY
Fellowship recruits stand at attention in front of their packs.
Master Wizardry Sergeant GANDALF walks along the line of blank-faced recruits.
GANDALF: I am Gunnery Sergeant Gandalf, your Senior Ring Instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir!" Do you maggots understand that?
FELLOWSHIP (in unison): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
FELLOWSHIP (louder): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: If you ladies leave Rivendell, if you survive recruit training ... you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day you are pukes! You're the lowest form of life on Middle Earth. You are not even pint-sized gollums! You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of warg shit! Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on hobbits, humans, stunties, or pointed-eared fairies. Here you are all equally worthless! And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Fellowship! Do you maggots understand that?
RECRUITS (in unison): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you!
RECRUITS: (louder): Sir, yes, sir!
Sergeant GANDALF stops in front of a short recruit, Private MERRY.
GANDALF: What's your name, scumbag?
MERRY (shouting): Sir, Private Brandybuck, sir!
GANDALF: Bullshit! From now on you're Private Merry! Do you like that name?
MERRY (shouting): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Well, there's one thing that you won't like, Private Merry! They don't serve fried conies and lembas on a daily basis round my camp fire!
MERRY: Sir, yes, sir!
PIPPIN (whispering): Is that you, Voice of Sauron? Is this me?
GANDALF: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little mordor-shit twinkle-toed elf-sucker down here, who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh?! The fairy fucking olliphaunt said it! Out-fucking-standing! I will run you all until you fucking die! I'll run you until your tail-pipes are sucking Old Toby.
Sergeant GANDALF grabs FRODO by the shirt.
GANDALF: Was it you, you scroungy little warg, huh?!
FRODO: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: You little piece of Orcshit! You look like a fucking goblin! I'll bet it was you!
FRODO: Sir, no, sir!
PIPPIN: Sir, I said it, sir!
Sergeant GANDALF steps up to PIPPIN.
GANDALF: Well ...no shit. What have we got here, a fucking comedian? Private Pippin? I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and play with my staff.
Sergeant GANDALF purnches PIPPIN in the stomach. PIPPIN sags to his knees.
GANDALF: You little scumbag! I've got your name! I've got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shoot fireworks down your neck!
PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Private Pippin, why did you join my beloved Fellowship?
PIPPIN: Sir, to eat, sir!
GANDALF: So you're an eater!
PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Let me hear your breakfast belch!
PIPPIN: Sir?
GANDALF: You've got a breakfast belch? Buuuuuuuurrrrrrrppp! That's a breakfast belch. Now let me hear your breakfast belch!
PIPPIN: Buuuurrrp!
GANDALF: Orcshit! You didn't convince me! Let me hear your real breakfast belch!
PIPPIN: Buuuuuuurrrrppp!
GANDALF: You didn't scare me! Work on it!
PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir!
Sergeant GANDALF speaks into Frodo's face.
GANDALF: What have you done with it?
FRODO: Sir, done with what, sir?
GANDALF: I'm asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand?!
FRODO: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Well thank you very much! Can I be in charge for a while?
FRODO: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Is it secret? Is it safe?
FRODO: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Do I make you nervous?
FRODO: Sir!
GANDALF: Sir, what? Were you about to call me an Nazgul?!
FRODO: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: How tall are you, Private?
FRODO: Sir, three foot nine, sir!
GANDALF: Three foot nine? I didn't know they stacked warg shit that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh?
FRODO: Sir, no, sir.
GANDALF: Orcshit! It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the cracks of doom! I think you've been cheated!
GANDALF: Where in hell are you from anyway, Private?
FRODO: Sir, The Shire, sir!
GANDALF: Holy Entshit! The Shire! Only beer and weed-smokers come from The Shire, Private Frodo! And you don't look much like a beer to me, so that kinda narrows it down! Do you suck leaf!
FRODO: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: Are you a pipe-puffer?
FRODO: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: I'll bet you're the kind of hobbit that would smoke a person's pipe and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a hit! I'll be watching you!
Sergeant GANDALF walks down the line to another recruit, a tall, overtweight hobbit.
GANDALF: Did your parents have any children that lived?
GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: I'll bet they regret that! You're so ugly you could be a spider of Mirkwood! What's your name, fatbody?
GARDENER: Sir, Samwise Gamgee, sir!
GANDALF: Samwise? Samwise, what, of Harad?
GARDENER: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: That name sounds like royalty! Are you royalty?
GARDENER: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: Do you suck leaf?
GARDENER: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! I'll bet you could suck a goblin head through a garden hose!
GARDENER: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: I don't like the name Samwise! Only Stoors and sailors are called Samwise! From now on you're Gomer Gardener!
GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir!
GARDENER has the trace of a strange smile on his face.
GANDALF: Do you think I'm cute, Private Gardener? Do you think I'm funny?
GARDENER: Sir, no, sir!
GANDALF: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face!
GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart!
GARDENER: Sir, I'm trying, sir.
GANDALF: Private Gardener, I'm gonna give you three seconds--excactly three fucking seconds--to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and turn you into something un-natural! One! Two! Three!
GARDENER purses his lips but continues to smile involuntarily.
GARDENER: Sir, I can't help it, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! Get on your knees, scumbag!
Gardener gets down on his knees.
GANDALF:Now choke yourself!
Gardener places his hands around his throat as if to choke himself.
GANDALF: Goddamn it, with my beard, wargnuts!!
GARDENER reaches for GANDALF's beard. GANDALF jerks it away.
GANDALF: Don't pull my fucking beard over there! I said choke yourself! Now lean forward and choke yourself!
GARDENR leans forward so that his neck rests in GANDALF's beard.
GANDALF chokes Gardener.
GARDENER gags and starts to turn red in the face.
GANDALF: Are you through grinning?
GARDERNER (barely able to speak): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you!
GARDENER (gasping): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: Orcshit! I still can't hear you! Sound offlike you got a pair!
GARDENER (gagging): Sir, yes, sir!
GANDALF: That's enough! Get on your feet!
GANDALF releases Gardener's throat form his beard. Gardener gets to his feet, breathing heavily.
GANDALF: Private Gardener, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me rings of power... or I will definitely turn you into something un-natural!
GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir!
Text adventure
You are in a chamber inside a volcano. It is dark. To your north is a gaping chasm, filled with lava. In the chamber is also: a Hobbit, wearing a ring.
# Get Ring
The hobbit won't let go of the ring.
# Tell Hobbit to drop ring
The hobbit won't let go of the ring.
# Bite hobbit
You bite the hobbit's finger. His finger comes off.
# Inventory
You have: A ring. A finger.
# North
It is dark. If you proceed you will likely fall into a pit.,
In Search of Schrodinger’s Hobbit - Gribben
In the world of quantum literature, the laws of physics that are familiar from the everyday world no longer work. Instead, events are governed by probabilities. A ring of power, for example, might bind its keeper to darkness, say; or it might not. It is possible to set up an experiment in such a way that there is a precise fifty-fifty chance that the ring of power will become powerful enough in a certain time and that its keeper will register this power and be bound to darkness if it does happen. Schrodinger, as upset as Tolkien about the implications of quantum literature theory, tried to show the absurdity of those implications by imagining such an experiment set up in a closed book, or story, which also contains a live hobbit and a ring of power, so arranged that if the ring of power does become powerful enough then the darkness will be unleashed and the hobbit succumb to its power. In the everyday world, there is a fifty-fifty chance that the hobbit will be bound to darkness, and without looking inside the book we can say, quite happily, that the hobbit inside is either free-willed or bound to darkness. But now we encounter the strangeness of the quantum literature world. According to the theory, neither of the two possibilities open to the ring of power, and therefore to the hobbit, has any reality unless it is written and read. The ring becoming more powerful than its keeper’s will has neither happened nor not happened, the hobbit has neither been bound to darkness or not bound to darkness, until we look inside the book to see what has happened. Theorists who accept the pure version of quantum mechanics say that the hobbit exists in some indeterminate state, neither bound to darkness nor free-willed, until an observer looks into the book to see how things are getting on. Nothing is real unless it is observed.
"Rings in the Attic" by V.C Andrews
As I watched the other faces seated around me at the Prancing Pony, I felt so alone, so different from everyone else. Not one of them knew the truth.
They didn't know how I had been kidnapped at birth, how my high school boyfriend turned out to be my brother, and how I had been saddled with this horrible responsibility, this ring that nobody wanted to speak of, and this awful grandfather who wanted me dead. I had spent two years locked in that hobbit-hole, and I never wanted to return.
"Frodo, what's wrong? You seem upset."
"It's nothing, Merry", I said. "I think I just need to lay down."
I took off and ran up the stairs, barely making it before I burst into tears, my vision blurring as I threw myself on the bed, crying uncontrollably as all my pain became too much for me to bear.
I felt someone sit down next to me on the bed; my loud sobs must have covered the sound of him entering. I tried to control my tears as he started softly stroking my hair.
"Shhh, my sweet Frodo." said Sam. "Don't cry, my darling....someone as...fresh...and lovely as you should have no worries."
I regained control of myself as his soothing touch calmed my fears. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad...Maybe this would be the beginning of a wonderful new life for me. Maybe....
I gasped suddenly as I felt Sam's hands slowly traveling south. My body stiffened as I tried to shrug him off.
"Sam, what are you doing? Please, stop that!", I said fearfully.
He pushed me gently but firmly onto my back. I was fairly strong, but his bulk was too much for me, and despite my resistance he climbed on top of me. He buried his face in my neck and I could smell the mead on his breath.
"Shhhh, Frodo. This is the way it's supposed to be, I know it. Just let me show you.", he muttered drunkenly.
"SAM, NO! You're my BROTHER! It's not right!"
"Your mouth says no, but your body says yes...", he mumbled as his hand travelled between my legs to find the proof of my arousal.
"No, please! It's sick!" I shouted.
"Then let us be sick!"
***
The next morning I awoke to find myself alone in the bed. As I got dressed for the quest ahead, I wondered how I would ever face the others. Could I ever care for Sam again? The ring seemed to burn against my chest, reminding me of the burning I had felt last night....
Ok now I just feel dirty. Those books were such SMUT, and every girl in my 7th grade class had read them.
Tee Hee
FatboyTim... having watched several of those 'Mail Call' shows on the History Channel yesterday, that post was timely for me. I nearly spit out my coffee. (I appreciate classic literature and old movies like any other intellectual, but 'Full Metal Jacket' done LOTR-style was damned amusing.)
I've been reading this thread for ages now -- and you ALL just ROCK. I really should gather some nerve and post something myself. (I've been brainstorming ideas here but haven't finished anything I've liked enough yet.) And to think I once said I wouldn't get involved in online communities anymore... this place proves that 'wasting time' can be very productive!
The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Ring-Bearers
by Bilbo Covey Baggins
To be a truly effective ringbearer, you must first apply the first habit, Be Proactive. After all, the ring won't throw itself into Mount Doom, as was illustrated when my nephew Frodo had a ring of power, and he...
Long, trite anecdote of dubious veracity about the author's family deleted
...so it is apparent you have to challenge your paradigms about rings of power in order to achieve interdependent synergy with your Fellowship. Remember to sharpen the Sting at all times to achieve balance between production and productive capacity, while challenging your paradigms. Also ensure that all relevant stakeholders, such as the Lorien elves, have input into your game plan and milestones. And did I mention that you should work past your paradigms?
IF you'd like to know more about the Seven Habits of Highly Effective Ringbearers, here's a list of overpriced books and products:
Book: Putting Rings of Power First - 40 GP
Principle-Centered Fellowship - 65 GP
"Seven Habits" Cloak Clasps - 10 GP
"Seven Habits" Horns - 15 GP
Seminars on Seven Habits by Gandalf the Grey - 60GP/hr
"Seven Habits" Pipes /w Seven Habits Pipe-Weed - 5pp/ea.
Light of the Seven Habits - 100 GP
Seven Habits Palantir - 200 GP
(etc, etc)
"RingWar: Carrying the Ring" by Harry Turtledove:
"We make progress," remarked Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor. He hadn't had many opportunities to use that phrase since the invasion had begun, and he was getting exasperated with the slow progress of the forces at his disposal. "And yet, we face stern opposition at every front."
"Truth, Exalted Mordorlord" replied the Witch King of Angmar, Sauron's closest assistent, indicating his agreement with a nod of his cloak. "Then again, no-one could have excepted to know what we would face when we first started our offensive."
With a sigh, Sauron moved over to face the Palantir and called over a familiar image. The magically projected hobbit, wielding but a slingshot and clad in no kind of an armor, appeared; a familiar image. It was as if the hobbit was mocking him and his slow progress, again and again. "This was what we excepted to face!" Sauron exclaimed with a hiss of resignation.
"Indeed it was," asserted Witch King. "However, I find it most fascinating, if not little repulsive, that this creature has hairy feet." Witch King had a soft, inward chuckle at the thought of a hairy-footed creature.
...
Cue in 20 different storylines 5 of which are interchangeable, numerous references to hobbits having hairy feet (lest we forget that important fact) and at least 7 creepily underdescribed sex scenes...
Killing myself laughing
Awesome stuff people... Here's 2 I'd like to request: The X-Files ("The Ring Is Out There?!") and Musashi's Book of Five Rings...
__________________
"If God had meant for Man to have sex, He wouldn't have given us zippered flies." - Newton Feeb (The Frantics)
"Isengard Uber Alles", by Dead Isildurs
I am Saruman the White
You will admire my power and might
Soon I will be the Dark Lord...
Sauron's power will soon go away
I will take his place one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will learn Orcish in school
Your kids will learn Orcish in school -
Isengard Uber alles
Isengard Uber alles
Uber alles Isengard
Uber alles Isengard
Uruk-Hai will control you
Creatures unnatural
You will be bred with the Orcish race
And always wear the happy face
Close your eyes, can't happen here
Wizard in white cloak is near
Morgoth won't come back you say
Join my side or you will pay
Join my side or you will pay -
Isengard Uber alles
Isengard Uber alles
Uber alles Isengard
Uber alles Isengard
Now it's 3084
Knock knock at your hobbit hole
It's the feather-cap secret Shirriff
You better not be scared stiff
Come quietly to the keep
It will all be like eternal sleep
A final look at this here tower
Now let me demonstrate my power
Die on a lopsided magical duel
My hordes will like you in their gruel
You will croak, you half of a man
When you mess with Sar-u-man
Isengard uber alles
Isengard uber alles
Uber alles Isengard
Uber alles Isengard
After seeing the Dead Kennedys version (nice!), I figured I'd throw some requests out (mainly since I am having problems writing these requests on my own!): So... I request to anyone with the talent I apparently lack today:
U2
Bram Stoker
The Osbournes
Rocky Horror Picture Show
Indiana Jones
Phantom of the Opera (or Chorus Line -- double-dog-dare! Yes, I'm a theatre geek.)
I'm working on the some other ones on my own (if I ever finish them). Danke!
Norwegian Rings
I came here from TheOneRing.net's link. I am in awe--AWE--of the depth of creativity and humor of the posters to this thread. Following is my lame, humble attempt at a contribution.
With deep and heartfelt apologies to Tolkien and The Beatles:
Norwegian Rings
I once had The Ring,
Or should I say,
It once had me.
She showed me our doom,
In Galadriel’s glass,
What might come to pass.
"The Fellowship’s breaking, in fact it’s already begun."
"He’ll try for the Ring, so alone you must bear it, The One."
I sat on the Seat,
Amon Hen reeled,
Would the Fellowship yield?
I felt so alone—
(And Boromir dead)
With Samwise I fled.
Then Gollum (nee Smeagol) on Preciousss to guide us did swear,
Then left us for dead in the darkness of cruel Shelob’s lair.
Orodruin loomed,
Gollum’s last lunge,
Into Mount Doom he’d plunge.
And when we awoke,
We weren’t alone.
Gwaihir had flown.
[Editorial stanza]:
Oscar he deserves,
Isn’t he good,
Elijah Wood.
quote:
Originally posted by shrdlu
...I request to anyone with the talent I apparently lack today:
Phantom of the Opera (or Chorus Line -- double-dog-dare! Yes, I'm a theatre geek.)
from THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING RINGBEARER, by Oscar Wilde
LADY GANDALF: Well, I really must say, Frodo, that I think it is high time this Mr. Aragorn made up his mind whether to be King or not. This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way approve of this modern obsession with rings. I consider it - morbid. Smoking pipe-weed is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor companion Smeagol, but he never seems to take much notice, at least as far as any improvement in his taste in jewelry is concerned. I should be much obliged, Frodo, if you would ask Mr. Aragorn from me to kindly reforge the shards of Narsil by Saturday, for I rely on you to destroy the one ring for me. It is my last epic quest, and one wants a Fellowship that will encourage success - particularly at the end of the Age, when everyone has already fought over practically everything worth fighting over, which in most cases was probably not much...
[I know Wilde was done already, but that's one of my favorite plays ever, so I couldn't resist.]
Greg Egan's Mannaheim
Frodo parsed the data given to him via gestalt by Gandalf.
Ve asked uncertainly in linear, 'The Ring makes me invisible?'
Gandalf replied, 'Not quite. It shifts you into one of the rolled-up spatial dimensions. Unfortunately, Ring Theory guarantees that Sauron will have a duplicate of verself monitoring that dimension at all times. You have to be sparing in your use of it.'
Sam emitted a linear exclamation, 'Eep!'
Gandalf caught vim immediately.
Ve skolded, 'How dare you violate our privacy and the laws of this polis?'
'But... but... you said the Name of the Enemy.'
Gandalf relented as Frodo looked through vis memory banks.
'Saying the Name of the Enemy? There's nothing wrong with saying the name of anything! I cannot believe that such an ancient superstition is still in vogue.'
'Now, Frodo, saying the Name of the Enemy won't attract vis attention, but putting on the Ring surely will. Sam, remind vim of this on your joint journey to Mordor.'
'Mordor? But that's a teratau away on foot!'
~~~
I have only read Greg Egan's Diaspora twice, so my fanboy imitation is very poor.
KathleenTheCritic... WOO! That was good, thanks muchly! Very, very nice. Encore! If you're near the west coast, we should get together and do the next 'Forbidden Broadway'... (oh, I know there's a lot of other playwrights out there - hrmmm)
I was hoping someone couldn't resist the double-dog dare.
*back to plotting something cute to post, um... eventually*
Osbournes
GANDALF saunters in, leaning on his walking-stick. He stares, mouth slightly agape, at FRODO, who is sitting on the couch with the ring in his palm.
GANDALF: Wot th'bloody BEEP Frodo! 'owmanny times I got to tell ye to gnnanrm nbwmpnh ring hrmpnb Doom!
FRODO: Aw for BEEP's sake, Gandalf, I bloody well told yeh that I'd get over withit after my foot appointment! BEEPing BEEP.
GANDALF: AWROIGHT, 'ats BEEPing enough of that, Oi've 'ad enough of this blramgbm bfmlanp BEEP. Oi t..t..told you once before, Oi says "Frodo, you got t..t..to take the Ring and blmabmn hmaphbmnat BEEP BEEP Doom!"
SAM runs in, carrying a SMALL, UNATTRACTIVE DOG.
SAM: THE ROTTEN..! IT PISSED ON MY - Say, Frodo, oughtn't you be takin' that thing to Mount Doom already?
FRODO: BEEP BEEP BEEEEP. That's th'last time I want to hear about the BEEPing Ring and BEEP BEEP BEEEPin' Mount Doom, you hear me Sam? Can't get a moment's peace around here without one of yeh tossers at my neck fer this, I'm bloody sick of it, won't BEEPing take it.
SAM: Now wait just a BEEPing --
FRODO: ALL I BLOODY WANT is a BEEPing moment's relaxation, is all! BEEP BEEP BEEP. D'you 'ave any BEEPing clue how much BEEPin' stress I'm under lately? DO YOU
GANDALF: Hrgblfgh brhmph echanenbl.
SAM: BEEP BEEP.
FRODO: BEEP.
GANDALF: BEEP.
SMALL, UNATTRACTIVE DOG: woof!
Re: Osbournes
** APPLAUDS **
quote:
Originally posted by shrdlu
Phantom of the Opera (or Chorus Line -- double-dog-dare! Yes, I'm a theatre geek.)
floored
HEE hEE hEEHJEEH hehee heee ehheh eh
(gasps for breath)
will contribute some poetry as soon as i can see straight again...
The end of the "Dark Frodo" saga in CIRTH-MEN issue #137
Someone requested 80s-era Chris Claremont, I believe. You just had to set off that long-dormant, formerly excised part of my brain, didn't you? I'll get you for this...
[FRODO is walking towards the Cracks of Doom, having just incinerated GOLLUM and five NAZGUL with a flick of his bushy toe. He is using levitation to tow SAM, who is completely paralyzed except for his mouth.]
FRODO: "But you see, Sam, the progression is inevitable. From Frodo Baggins..." [we see him in an outlandish greenish-gold traveling outfit with a normal-size Ring on his finger] "...to Master Underhill..." [suddenly changes to heroic brown outfit with cape and mithril shirt and a Ring the size of a doughnut on a chain] "...to Dark Frodo." [suddenly changes to gray and black orc-rags and a Ring the size of a toilet seat around his midriff] "As inevitable as the tides of the sea, or of death. I can't stop it. I don't have the power, or the will."
SAM: "No, Mr. Frodo, no! Together, we'll work this out! It doesn't have to be this way!"
FRODO: "Yes, it does. You but seek to delay the denouement of a fate long scripted. An admirable ploy, but it has failed."
*****
[Scene changes to the elven flagship, five times as big as the Titanic, floating on the Anduin. HALDIR watches the screens while GALADRIEL sits in a throne and PROFESSOR GANDALF sits in his wheelchair.]
HALDIR: I'm detecting a power signature from Mordor! It's unlike anything I've seen before...off the scale! Discharging!
[A bolt of raw energy leaps outward from the Ephel Duath and blasts the elven fleet, turning several ships into charred kindling.]
Sound effect: ZZZRRAKK!
HALDIR (shouting): Majesty, we've been hit! All sectors reporting damage!
GALADRIEL: It's the Frodo Effect! I knew it! Call all of Elvendom! Call the Valar! They must burn all of Mordor -- burn all of Middle-Earth, if they have to! Dark Frodo must be destroyed, or Ea is doomed!
PROFESSOR GANDALF (reaching out with his magical mental powers to the other CIRTH-MEN -- all exhausted in the previous thirty pages of pulse-pounding battle, some fallen, and some almost certainly dead, but this gaping plot problem is lightly passed over): My children, my charges...get up! Attack Dark Frodo, for the sake of the world! For the sake of all that is!
[ARAGORN hears the call, staggers up, and extends his adamantium Narsil-claws.]
ARAGORN: I hear ya, Professor...on my way...
[EOWYN summons a strangely horse-shaped cloud to lift her into the air.]
EOWYN: Frodo, what have you done? I pray we're not too late!
[BOROMIR swims to shore and switches to his shining ithildin-armored form, glad that for once he has remembered not to do so until his feet touch bottom.]
BOROMIR: Frodo! Frodo, dearest comrade! I know ze power of ze sink you bear! Can ve brink ourselfs to destroy it and ze sink you heff become? I don't know -- but ve heff no choice!
[Back on the elven flagship, GALADRIEL is aware of PROFESSOR GANDALF's machinations, and speaks to him mind to mind.]
GALADRIEL: Do you imagine they will succeed? An admirable ploy, but it will fail -- and I will do what I must!
*****
[FRODO holds his smoking hands in front of him, horrified by the force he has just unwittingly unleashed. He stops at the brink of the Cracks of Doom. At his summons, a machine of unimaginable monstrosity lurches upward from the depths and aims itself at him.]
FRODO: Sooner or later, Sam, I will lose all control, and the evil that will follow staggers the imagination...yet I can see it clearly. I can't let that happen. I have to purge this power from existence before it consumes the cosmos.
SAM (straining hopelessly to unleash his garden-hothouse-lamp eye beams against the machine): Don't you do it, Mr. Frodo!
FRODO: I love you, Sam!
[The machine disintegrates FRODO with a bolt of raw energy, colored slightly differently from the one that hit the elven ships to aid our comprehension.]
SAM: FRODO!
FRODO: SAM!
SAM: FRODO!!
FRODO: SAM!!
[The remaining CIRTH-MEN, NAZGUL, ELFJAMMERS, GONDORAN and EASTERLING ARMIES, and SAURON arrive in time to see SAM cradling a pile of ash. They kneel around him, overcome with emotion, in a tableau that will later be enshrined forever in a foil-embossed poster by Byrne and Austin.]
SAM: I love you, Frodo...
[Far away, in the legendary "blue area" of Middle-Earth, THE WATCHER, better known as ULMO, ruminates.]
ULMO: Humanity! I will never tire of watching them! A blighted race, it's said...and yet, in the face of certain disaster, they exhibit sacrifice that would shame the Valar themselves! There have always been forces like the Ring, trying to tempt and corrupt them into betraying their true destiny...but in the face of love and courage, those attempts are doomed to defeat! All admirable ploys -- but they've failed!!
[Stay tuned until next month, when the CIRTH-MEN will do a lot of crying and looking at sunsets and being attacked by GRIMA THE WENDIGO on their way home. Excelsior!]
quote:
Originally posted by shrdlu
KathleenTheCritic... WOO! That was good, thanks muchly! Very, very nice. Encore! If you're near the west coast, we should get together and do the next 'Forbidden Broadway'...
Re: LOTR Musicals
Ooh, wonderful, guys! Gee, too bad the rights would be so ridiculously high. We could all change careers. Whoot!
I'm working on one for 'Cats' (which has no cats in it, of course). Need to do one for 'Chess'... "One Night in..."...? Hmm. Evil writer's block. Blarg.
Yes, I was a theatre major in college. Note that I'm still a wanna-be now.
What other plays?
Into the Woods
Grease
Annie
Les Miserables
Fiddler On the Roof
The Sound of Music
Little Shop of Horrors
Oklahoma!
Sweeney Todd
I can think of more (heck, so can you all) ...
Consider the above as requests, though! *throws down the gauntlet*
Excerpt from the Summa Tolkeinia
(With apologies to Thomas Aquinas)
III C 2 Whether Balrogs have Wings
i. It would seem that Balrogs do have wings. The Professor states " the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings" and ""its wings were spread from wall to wall"
ii Further, a Balrog is, like a Dragon, an evil creature associated with the element of fire, and it is clear to everyone that Dragons do have wings.
I assert that Balrogs do not have wings. For, it is a natural impulse to act to preserve one's life, and in doing so, to make full use of one's capabilities. If the Balrog did have wings, it would not allow itself to fall to its death in the mines of Moria, but save itself by the use of its wings
Reply to Objection i. It is clear from usage that the Professor was using a metaphor here, and not being literally descriptive
Reply to Objection ii. Dragons and Balrogs are alike in that they are both servants of evil and of flame, but they differ in their accidential traits. Because two things are alike in one way, it is not proper to argue they are alike in other ways.
Oooh, Into the Woods, my favorite. And here's one of my favorite songs from that show, reworked a la LOTR.
Agony
Gollum:
Did we abuse it
Or show it disdain?
Why does it run from usssss?
Now that we've lost it
How shall we regain?
The preciousss must come to ussss!
Agony!
Beyond power of speech,
When the one thing we wantssss
Is the only thing out of our reach.
Sauron:
High in my tower,
I sit by the hour,
Seeking my ring.
Evil and cunning,
All goodness I'm shunning.
Where is that thing?
Where oh where oh where oh where oh-
Agony!
For the One Ring I cry,
Once I had all the power,
Now I'm a big flaming eye.
Both:
Agony!
Can you hear our loud screech?
Sauron:
What's as intriguing-
Gollum:
Or half so fatiguing-
Both:
As what's out of reach?
Gollum:
Are we not treacherousss,
Clever,
Ill-mannered,
and paranoid,
Ravenoussss,
Scheming,
As rude as we're ugly
And 500 years old?
Sauron:
You are everything the ring could wish for!
Gollum:
Then why no-?
Sauron:
Do I know?
Gollum:
The world must be mad!
Sauron:
You know nothing of madness
Till you've lost your One Ring
And you can't do a thing,
All your plans are on hold,
Without one band of gold:
Where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh
Both:
Agony!
Gollum:
Misery!
Sauron:
Woe!
Both:
Though it's different for each.
Gollum:
Nassty hobbits! They took-
Sauron:
I'll slay them with a look!
Both:
But it's just out of reach.
Agony!
Oh, that glittering thing!
We must find the One Ring!
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