…and here’s a link to a picture that goes right along with it! 
Zanzibar, I enjoyed your “very model of a modern magus Mithrandir” also
(I suspect that, as a newcomer to this forum, I fear I may have exceded my allotment of posts…:rolleyes: )
If LotR had been written by Herman Melville (opening line):
“Call me Elessar.”
lastin
Bwahahaha!! The timing of that was just perfect.
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.”
Good old Robert Frost. I enjoyed it greatly.
Wow! Kudos indeed! That’s so funny–because I wrote a Modern Major General version a few days ago but didn’t bother to post. I will now–just for variety’s sake. Awesome job!
-epigramcracker
The Grey Istari Turned To White
Gandalf:
I am the very model of a Gray Istari turned to white
I’ve quite increased by general knowledge, information, and insight,
I know the plans of Saruman who stands no longer over me,
I’ve even read the classics, from Candide to Madame Bovary.
I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters Middle-Earthian,
I know the mind of Sauron and the major lack of mirth he’s in,
About the King of Rohan I am teeming with a lot o’ news…
Hmm, lot o’ news… Ah!
With many schemes and spells that will soon free him from old Sharkey’s ruse!
Hobbits: With many schemes and spells that will soon free him from old Sharkey’s ruse! (repeat x2)
I’m very good at Balrog fights through fire, water, and through stone;
And though I’m almost godly, to the halfling leaf I am still prone:
In short, in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
I am the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White.
Hobbits: In short in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
He is the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White!
Gandalf:
I know our mythic history, King Isildur’s and Arathorn’s;
And now I know the destiny and path that is King Aragorn’s,
I see the Eye of Sauron blinking angrily with growing fear,
And know that if the hobbits don’t destroy the ring, the end is near;
I am adept at differentiating ‘tween an Ent and tree—
The only wizard to be on the side of Treebeard is still me!
I still break out and hum “The Road Goes On” if I deem timing right,
And I can still recite those everlasting songs that Bilbo writes!
Hobbits: He can still recite those everlasting songs that Bilbo rights! (repeat x2)
Gandalf:
Then I can say the ring rhyme in the dark speech of the tongue of men,
I’ll recite it to you backwards then I’ll take it from the top again!
In short, in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
I am the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White.
Hobbits: In short in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
He is the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White!
Gandalf:
In fact when I know what is meant Ring Wraith shrieks and uruk grunts,
When I can cure poor Smeagol of his passion for the ring he hunts,
When such affairs as battles at Helm’s Deep I can predict at last,
And when I know precisely what is meant by Second Break-a-fast.
When I have learnt what prophecies have come from far Lothlorien,
When I know which is the best pub to sit and tell a story in—
In short, when I’ve a smattering of elemental wizardry…
Oh, that’s a tough one… Wizardry, Gizzardry, Sizzardry… Got it!
You’ll say a former Gray Istari changed his hue with lizardry!
Hobbitts: You’ll say a former Gray Istari changed his hue with lizardry! (repeat x2)
Gandalf:
Though my knowledge of dark quests and evil plots and of the skill of rhyme
Has only been amassing since the very rise and dawn of time;
But still in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
I am the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White.
Hobbits: But still in matters man, or elf, or even dwarf or Hobbitite,
He is the very model of a Gray Istari turned to White!!!
**THE END!
**
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…”
“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.
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)
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.
Ah, yes, it has been far too long since I actually read the books, and I got this mixed up. So, read it as Merry, and not the “Smaller Hobbit” Pippin, and all will be well.
Peace,
Ewolf
:smack:
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
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