I’d like to see a J.D. Salinger version of LotR. Or Graham Greene’s. Or Faulkner’s. Or Elmore Leonard’s.
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.
I think Fish42 already did that, when he did “LotR by Matt Groening.”
Or didn’t you mean that 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! 
James Joyce
Old man willow, whistling like a tea pot, shining like a star, oh so brilliant in the dreaming and smoke and by the river, Goldberry’s river, dancing like a vision, Bombadil, Bombadil, Bombadillo. Rock of ages, young and ageless, naked before my eyes like Rivendell Rock, sweet and hard and trusting…
Brilliant! (Much better than the Kwisatz Hobbitrach I was contemplating)
Shalmanese The HP one is perfect!
Suruga, I bow to your superior version of “Barrow-Wight Club” (I didn’t have the book at hand, only the movie script, and forgot how different the intro was.)
Drat… I’ve lost my touch. I’ve been wracking my brain for an hour trying to do Shakespeare. It’s just too hard!
Here, I’ll do an easy one:
As Gandalf the half-celestial wizard took blow after crushing blow from the Balrog, Frodo the halfling rogue stood in shock. His shortsword of quickness, Sting, would do nothing against that beast. It’s damage reduction was just too great. Just then, on Gandalf’s initiative, a deafening blast was heard, as he cast Rary’s destructive dweomer, sending both he and the wandering monster into the depths of Kazad-dum. The Fellowship was devastated, but once out of the caverns they realized that they had all gained valuable experience that would take them to new levels of strength. So, Gandalf’s sacrifice was not in vain. And who knows, perhaps the clerics in the next town could raise him? They went off together in search of a tavern…
-From LoTR, the D&D novel (1st book in the 12-part Mithrillance series)
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…
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
Damn you, Ranchoth, you beat me to it! But I would have cast Jack Ryan as Frodo, John Clark as Aragorn, etc…
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” ?
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.