Oh my… I have not laughed this hard in years. Thank you, thank you everyone!!! Boy am I glad I found this site.
I remember that! And enjoyed your posting.
Let me try and continue on the same theme - this time from the Mike Batt song that came from the stage version of “The Hunting of the Orc…” this piece being
"Hobbit of the Shire"…
Out in the marshes of Deadness, dark wings
Out where your hopes and your fantasies fail
Drifting onward through dead colden things
Look at the will-o-the-wisp burning pale
Watching the eyes dead of earth and sky
Who ever thought that your life would lead you here
- Not I
Don’t let your willpower slide
Hero very small
Eye of burning fire
But with Samwise by your side
Remember how it feels to be
Hobbit of the Shire…
Searching onward three stout-hearted friends
One of them Elf, one Dwarf, one future King
Looking for two taken out on the plains
They won’t give up - on you and the Ring
“Turn of the Tides” hear a distant voice say
He is the one dressed in white, once you knew -
Gandalf the Grey
Don’t let your willpower slide
Hero very small
Eye of burning fire
But with Samwise by your side
Remember how it feels to be
Frodo of the Shire…
Hmm… must say this thread has grown to massive proportions. This one is a bit more polished and longer than my previous efforts enjoy!
You are in a small, homely, hobbit room. There is a fire burning in the grate and several items are scattered around the table.
There is an exit to the north of here.
> look fire
You see nothing special about the fire.
> look tbale
I see no tbale.
> look table
On the table, there is a water bottle, a map, a silver mithril chain mail and a small gold ring.
> take bottle
You take the water bottle.
> take map
It appears to be a map of the shire, you notice your house and an inn named the Prancing Pony circled on it.
> take mail
I don't seem to understand
> take chain mail
You pick up the chain mail, it appears to have been left by your uncle Bilbo.
> wear mail
You slip on the chain mail under your shirt.
> take ring
You take the small non-descript golden ring from the table and slip it into your pocket, who knows what fate this ring may bring you.
> i
You pack contains:
a water bottle
a map
a silver mithril chain mail
a ring
10 gold pieces
> n
You are in the middle of Hobbiton, there are crowds of hobbits milling every which way.
Sam is standing in the garden with a huge pack on his back.
There are exits to the south of here.
> talk sam
Sam says that he hopes your ready to go.
Sam notices that you have the map, he comments that you can simply "follow" the map to any location that is marked on it.
> look map
You look at the map, so far, the locations of Hobbiton and The Prancing Pony are marked.
> follow prancing pony
You set off to the Prancing Pony
You are standing in front of the Prancing Pony. It is a small, non-descript inn which seems comfortable.
There are exits to the north of here
> n
You are in the Prancing Pony. There are men milling around everywhere.
You notice the barkeeper standing behind the bar.
You notice a man sitting in the corner.
There are exits to the south and north of here.
> talk barman
The barkeeper introduces himself as Barliman. You enquire about the whereabouts of Gandalf and he informs you that he has not seem him for quite some time. He suggests you buy a pint of his finest ale while you wait.
> buy beer
Barliman hands over a pint of beer.
> look beer
It doesn't look too bad.
> drink beer
You feel happy. Suddenly, you have an urge to dance on the table. You succumb to your urge and proceed to do a merry jig.
You are not as co-ordinated as you feel and fall from the table and somehow manages to slip the ring on your finger as you fall. Luckily, nobody seems to have noticed.
Uh-oh, it seems somebody has noticed.
You are in the Prancing Pony. There are men milling around everywhere.
You notice Barliman standing behind the bar.
You notice a man sitting next to you.
There are exits to the south and north of here.
> talk man
The man reveals himself to be a person named Strider. He says that you are in great danger and you should follow him to Rivendell. He points out rivendell on the map.
> follow rivendell
On the way to Rivendell, you are accosted by 4 Nazgul.
Nazgul
Lvl: 9 hp: 108
you are on 100 hp.
(H)it (Run)
> h
You miss the Nazgul.
the Nazgul narrowly misses you.
> h
You miss the Nazgul.
the Nazgul misses you.
> r
You do not manage to escape.
the Nazgul misses you.
> r
You manage to escape.
The nazgul hits you for 56 damage.
That sword was poisoned!
You are on 44 hp.
You are 8 leagues from Rivendell, you are on 40 hp.
You are 6 leagues from Rivendell, you are on 35 hp.
You are 4 leagues from Rivendell, you are on 20 hp.
You are 3 leagues from Rivendell, you are on 10 hp.
You are 2 leagues from Rivendell, you are on 6 hp.
You meet an elf by the side of the rode. The elf graciously offers to give you a ride to Rivendell. You accept.
You have reached the gates of Rivendell, the majestic splendour rises out all around you.
There are exits to the north.
You are on 4 hp.
> n
You are in the middle of Rivendell town square. There is a meeting house to the north and a shop to the east. Strange smells emenate from the small temple to the west.
There are exits to the north, south, east and west.
You are on 3 hp.
> w
You are in the healing room. Priests wander around and tend to the sick.
There is a healer sitting on the floor.
There are exits to the east and west.
You are on 2 hp.
> talk healer
The healer tells you to go through to the small room to the west and he will be with you shortly.
You are on 1 hp.
> w
You do not manage to make it a step further and collapse where you lie.
You are dead.
Your score was 34/561.
Thank you for playing the Quest for Middle Earth.
Would you like to play again y/n?
> n
Exit.
C:/>
You’re welcome. I trust it would be sufficiently depressing to suit Mr. McTell’s sensibilities.
A request (not to well he’s back but to others): if all you’re going to do is post one line of text, please don’t quote a 1000-lines to do so. This thread is already threatening to blow up the server (and I foresee imminent mod closure at the rate this is expanding).
Wobin - love the REM!
rewinn - still laughing over Mastering…
Nic
ps. everyone: if you’re going to do Salinger, please choose a different paragraph from now on… 
Hunter S Thompson:
We were 5 miles outta The Shire when the drugs started to take effect…
“Its sad. But what’s really sad is: it never got wierd enough for me. I moved to The Shire when the boat got too crowded. Then I learned that The Dark Lord had been eaten by white cannibals. Golly. You hear a lot of savage and unnatural things about people these days. But Bilbo and The Dark Lord are both gone now. But I don’t think I’m going to believe that until I can gnaw on thier skulls”
Any Rush Limbaugh version has to include actual quotes from ROTK, like how in the Scouring of the Shire Saruman’s “ruffians went round gathering stuff up ‘for fair distribution’:which meant they got it and we didn’t,” and, “They do more gathering than sharing, and we never see most of the stuff again.”
I don’t think anyone’s done this one.
The One Ring Manager, by Kenneth R. R. Blanchard
The young hobbit's face showed surprise. He'd never heard of a One Ring Manager. "What's that?"
Sauron laughed and said, "*I'm* a One Ring Manager. I call myself that because it takes very little effort for me to get big results from people."
The hobbit had traveled far and wide, and this was something he had never imagined. Someone who managed people with very little effort -- it was hard for him to believe.
Seeing the doubt on the hobbit's face, Sauron said, "You don't believe me, do you? Well, here are the names of nine people who report to me. Talk to them and see what kind of... manager I am."Whoa, whoa. It’s been a long time since I’ve read Tolkien; are you saying those quotes above are actually in his books? (I never did read the third one…)
Yep. They’re from the books. Return of the King - Chapter 8 - The Scouring of the Shire.
and
Since we’ve already got two Twilight Zone posts on this thread,why not go for one more?Enter Rod Serling stage left:
"Mr.Frodo Baggins,a simple hobbit who up until today has never had much interest in adventuring or even in venturing much beyond his comfortable hobbit-hole in Bag-End.But in just a moment,an old family friend will catapult him into a journey that will take him through the very heart of Middle-Earth,a journey that will mark his initiation into…the Fellowship of the Ring."
Heh. I keep watching the movie waiting for this to happen.
What if Ben Stein was the ring bearer.
Ben Stein: “Flaming, red eyes? Get Clear Eyes.”
He pours a few drops onto the eye of Sauron.
Or Clint Eastwood was Sauron:
“I know what you’re thinking:did he forge nine rings or only eight?Well,to tell you the truth,in all this excitement I kind of forgot myself.But seeing how this is the One Ring,and can blow your head clean off,you gotta ask yourself one question:Do you feel lucky?Well,do ya,punk?”
I found this thread (Not through slashdot by the way) and love it! Kudos to the geniouses that have posted here so far! (Elrond Hubbard… ROFL!)
Rogers and Hammerstein
“Far in the East,
Twixt Mountains Grey
There’s Caves of Iron and Fire.
The Dwarves they call it Khazad-Dhum,
The Elves call it Moria…”
exerpted from Pilgrim at River Withywindle,
by Annie Dillard
In days not so long past, I used to enjoy the friendship of a fox, an old gentle red, who would jump through the glassless open window by my bed in the early, dewy dawn and land on my chest. I’d half-awaken. He’d glare down at me with gleeful eyes, salivating small drops onto the apple of my neck. And then he’d leap out again, beckoning me to join the chase.
“Chase him, daughter!” my Tom would say, and how could I resist? And out and down I would go, moistening my feet on the grasses and rousing them fully on the humps of stones, towards the winding, labyrinthine roots of Old Man Willow.
I am called Goldberry. I live by a river, Withywindle River, among the ancient boughs of Middle-Earth’s Old Forest. A house is a comfortable shelter amidst the unflaggingly changeable will of the weather. Constructed carefully and lovingly, it may still aspire to harmony with the weather and the river. I think of my house, Tom Bombadil’s house, as a harmonious extension of the river and of this Old Forest where I am called River Daughter.
Hobbits are curious guests. At turns merry and fearful, but always grateful and good-natured even as the folk of the Forest, they are welcome guests. It has been estimated that the odds of an asteroid with the random fortune to approach, and the constitution to survive, Middle-Earth’s atmosphere and actually reach the ground, denting the earth, are greater than the odds of retrieving a grain of sand dropped into the riverbank by a passing wren. So must be the odds of four Shire hobbits finding themselves held fast by the gnarled but perpetually robust branch-arms of Old Man Willow here in our nestled swatch of Forest.
But Tom was aware of them, as he is aware of all creatures great and small that grace these hallowed woods. And he came to their rescue, for their vulnerability and harmlessness were as transparent to Tom as the reflection of one’s physical features in the telling mirror of the river’s surface.
One of the hobbits had a ring. Rings can be very sentimental things. I had a ring once, as a girl, and I then afforded it the treasured status I now save for the lolling song of the river as it flows around the bends between horseshoe-shaped banks that point to the promise of sacred errands deeper and deeper into the secret gardens of the forest.
This hobbit’s ring was extremely powerful, he said. Once, he even disappeared after placing it onto the mildly adorable plumpness of his little hobbit’s finger. But Tom demonstrated as he has so often in the untold seasons we have enjoyed together that such things are triflings before the hum of pure life-force (and, as I suspect, before the ever repeating, ever unfolding wonders of the Forest). Trying on this purportedly wondrous ring of dull gold himself, Tom did not disappear. And I am reminded as I am on a daily basis, that Tom Bombadil is all the compass I ever need follow here in the rushes and rustlings of the River Withywindle.
Excerpted from “Council Elronedes” in Aristotle’s “Medi-Earthica”
The followers of Hobbitas long ago suggested that the Ring should be hidden, but their logic has long since been dismantled, having been …
…(here an unknown number of lines have been lost)…
And Boromitus maintains that this Ring is a gift to the armies of could be wielded against the enemy to the advantage of Man. But he is notably a member of the simple clan of Spartan men who know nothing of the subtleties of this world, and his belief is obviously pure folly. For the Ring was made to serve Sauron, and its nature is not that of the sword, which is the ally of he who holds it by the hilt; for the sword is pointy by nature on one end, and pointy is damaging and unpleasant to the senses, but the rounded hilt is far more benign and pleasant to the body. Thus the sword has a definite direction of advantage, for if it is turned one way, it can help, and the other way it will maim. The Ring works by a more subtle process (for it is a weapon of the mind, and it is always correct to say that the Mind is more subtle than the Body). The physical nature of the Ring is rounded and pleasant along its entire surface, and thus it does not harm the body of he who wields it or him who it is wielded against. And yet, its power cannot be denied, for any one who should approach it can feel the draw it has on his ….
(here [fortunately] an unknown number of lines have been lost)
Gimles puts forth that the weapon should be destroyed, and he is partially right, but not intelligent enough to complete the method of this solution. He suggests that the Ring be broken and smashed with such tools as the sword or axe, but his foolishness in this is easily shown faulty; indeed, he himself attempted his solution and found, beyond the ability of his mind to explain, that his solution was impossible; for the Ring is of harder substance than metal that Men can forge, and it cannot be broken by a material more malleable than itself, as no thing can be shattered by a lesser force than its own.
Thus it comes to be obvious that the only force that may destroy the Ring is the force that created it, that force being the fires of Mount Doom, where flame burns hotter than Man can perceive (So hot is it that we find a new substance in the form of liquid that can be found nowhere else, and most certainly cannot be created through the crafts of humans). Elronedes, who listens wisely to my wise council, thus decided a person must be chosen to carry out this deed, which is of a most perilous nature and may indeed….
(the rest has been lost)
Aesop’s Lost Fable # 47:
The Lion wanted for himself a Ring of great power. The Council of the Ring, the wisest folk in all the world, warned him that such a Ring could only bring bad things, and gave it to the Mouse for safe keeping. The Mouse carried the Ring faithfully as the Council advised, and would not give it to the Lion. But one day the Lion could restrain himself no longer, and tried to snatch the Ring from the Mouse. The Mouse escaped with the Ring, but the Lion was shot to death by Orc arrows immediately after.
He is wise that heeds the counsel of those wiser than himself.
National Enquirer headline:
GOLLUM’S SHOCKING SECRET EXPOSED!
Deranged Hobbit-Hater Was Once Hobbit Himself!
(On a more serious note,I keep trying to fix a mistake in my last post but the board won’t let me.)
The Council of Elrond is seeking Expressions of Interest for an Expedition (or “Fellowship”) to drop the One Ring into the Cracks of Doom.
Please address all correspondence to ‘Lord Elrond of Rivendell’
Replies should be despatched by horse or giant eagle, to arrive no later than the end of the Third Age.
Please include in your EOI the following details:
- Prior Ringbearing experience, if any.
- Unique resources, expertise or knowledge that you can bring to the “Fellowship”.
- Proposed methodology for conveying the One Ring to Orodruin.
- Contingency plans in case of Breaking of the Fellowship.
- Estimated timeframe and budgetary requirements.
You MUST be a resident of Middle-Earth to apply.
The Council of Elrond is a non-discriminatory employer and will consider applications from Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits or other racial groups. This application is open to all ages including those aged 3,000 years and over.
We require that applicants will observe our No Smoke-Ring policy for the duration of the Fellowship.
THE COUNCIL OF ELROND