Actually…
< geek >
Legolas is from Mirkwood.
< /geek >
One day in Mordor an orc band happens onto two hobbits.
Frodo: Uhh. Uh, don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. We’re not orcs. W-- Uhh, we were jus-- s-- st, um,–
Orc 1: Why are you dressed as orcs?
Frodo: Hm? Oh, ‘why’! ‘Why’! ‘Why’! Haahh, isn’t it a lovely day today?
Orc 2: Answer the question.
Frodo: Oh, we were just, um,–
Sam: Well, uhh, actually, we’re-- we’re dressed like this because, uh,-- Oh. No, that’s not it.
Frodo: Uh, we did it for a lark. Part of a spree. High spirits, you know. Simple as that. Hm.
Sam: Nothing more to it. Hah.
Frodo: Ha ha.
Sam: Well, actually, we’re on a mission for Gondor Intelligence. Th-- th-- there’s a pro-Saruman Easterling Chief, uh,–
Frodo: No, no. No. No, no.
Sam: Uh, no. No, no, no. No. No. No.
Frodo: No. No, no, no, no. No. No, we’re doing it for an advertisement.
Sam: Ah, that’s it.
Frodo: Mhm.
Sam: Uhh, forget about the Wizards.
Frodo: Mhm.
Sam: Uh, we’re-- we’re doing an advert for ‘Lembas’, elfish waybread.
Frodo: Elfish waybread is a real treat. Even orcs prefer a bite of it to human meat. Mm.
Orc 1: Now look…
Sam: All right. All right. We are dressed as orcs because he had an uncle who did it in the Misty Mountains, and this is the 100th anniversary.
Frodo: No. We’re doing it for a bet.
Sam: Eru told us to do it.
Frodo: To tell the truth, we are completely mad.
Sam: [grimacing]
Frodo: We are-- we are inmates of a Dwarvish psychiatric institution and we escaped by making these costumes out of old, used pipeweed packets.
Sam: Mhm.
Sauron: It doesn’t matter!
Orc 1: What?
Sauron: It doesn’t matter why they’re dressed as orcs. Have they got my Ring?
Orc 1: Good thinking! Well, have you?
Frodo: Actually,…
Orc 1: Yes?
Frodo: …it’s because we were thinking of training as rangers and we want to get the feel of it from the enemy’s point of view.
Orc 1: Be quiet. Now look. We’re just asking you if you’ve got this dark lord’s Ring.
Sam: An onion ring?
Orc 2: No, no. A proper ring! Look. He was out in battle, and someone or something came up and removed it.
Sam: Without him seeing them?
Orc 2: Yes.
Sam: I don’t believe you.
Frodo: We found the contumes at an inn in Bree. The owner wanted it taken down to Edoras–
Orc 1: Shut up! Now look. Have you or have you not got his ring?
Frodo: Yes.
Sam: No.
Frodo: No.
Sam: No, no, no.
Frodo: No. No, no, no.
Sam: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Frodo: No, no, no. No. No. No. No.
Orc 2: Why did you say ‘yes’?
Sam: I didn’t.
Orc 2: I’m not talking to you.
Frodo: Uum. Uum. Hmmhh.
Orc 2: Right! Search the hobbits.
Frodo: Oh, come on. I mean, do we look like the sort of hobbits who’d be carrying a magic ring sliced off Sauron’s hand an age ago by Isildur only to be found by a Stoorling, carried away into the mountains for hundreds of years, twisting him into a fould shadow of his former self until it was taken from him by another hobbit and then taken to the Shire from whence it was taken to a special council at Rivendell?
Orc 2: Search the hobbits.
Sam: Oh, ‘ring’! You’re looking for a ring! Actually, I think there is one on him somewhere. Uhh, somebody must have abandoned it here, knowing you were coming after it, and we stumbled across it, actually, and wondered what it was, and they’ll be miles away by now,…
[thock]
…and I expect we’ll have to take all of the blame.
Frodo: Hmhm. As usual.
Nazgul: Hello. Good evening, and welcome to ‘The Middle of the Film’.
There are Orcs in the world,
There are Nazgul.
There Elves, and Men and then,
There are those who herd trees and bushes, But,
I’ve never been one of them.
I’m one of the Shire-folk,
I have been since before I was born.
And the one thing they say about Hobbits,
Is they’ll take you as soon as you’re warm.
You don’t have to be a four-footer.
You don’t have to have a great brain.
You don’t have to have any clothes on. You’re
A Hobbit the moment Gaffer came,
Because
Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
The Valar get quite irate.
.
Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
The Valar get quite irate.
Let the Big Folk spill theirs
On the dusty ground.
Elbereth shall make them pay for
Each sperm that can’t be found
Etc…
GALADRIEL: Look at them, bloody Periannath, filling the bloody world up with bloody people they can’t afford to bloody feed.
CELEBORN: What are we dear?
GALADRIEL: Elves, and fiercely proud of it.
CELEBORN: Hmm. Well, why do they have so many children?
GALADRIEL: Because… every time they have sexual intercourse, they have to have a baby.
CELEBORN: But it’s the same with us, Galadriel.
GALADRIEL: What do you mean?
CELEBORN: Well, I mean, we’ve got two children, and we’ve had sexual intercourse twice.
GALADRIEL: That’s not the point. We could have it any time we wanted.
CELEBORN: Really?
GALADRIEL: Oh, yes, and, what’s more, because we don’t believe in all that Shire claptrap, we can take precautions.
CELEBORN: What, you mean… lock the door?
Life got you down, Mrs.Baggins?
<sings>
Just re…member that you’re flying, on an Eagle, where is Smeagol?
He’s fallen in a bubbling pit of fire.
Your returning, from the burning,
Pits of Mordor, to the border,
Just in time for the Scouring of the Shire.
The hobbit you can see, your faithful friend, good ol’ Gamgee
Reminds you how you got into this thing,
"It all started back at Rivendell, why did you volunteer,
To join this damn Fellowship of the Ring!
The Fellowship itself, comprised a wizard and a dwarf,
With four hobbits, two brave men, and just one elf.
They were nine members strong,
When they left Elrond
But now it’s down to you and me, myself.
As we made our way to Mordor, chased by Balrog and the orcs,
They kept coming at us each and every day,
And then they were joined by armies made of thousands and thousands,
Of the hill-men and the dreaded Uruk-Hai."
<musical interlude>
</musical interlude>
The power of the Shadow, keeps on expanding and expanding,
The Eye can see across a thousand leagues.
As fast as Shadowfax,
When he’s making tracks,
Over sixty leagues a day and that’s the fastest steed there is.
So remember when you’re feeling, like the burden is too great
Just what this Quest and the One Ring is worth,
And pray that there’s some Valar living in the Havens Grey
Beause there’s bugger all, here in Middle-Earth!
</sings>
“So, cans I havess your finger then?”
<shrugs>“Yeah, alright.”
Gandalf knocks on the door of Orthanc. Saruman opens the door.
Gandalf: Hello, is this the right tower for an argument?
Saruman: I told you once…
Gandalf: no you didn’t…
etc.
Cut to Hobbit sitting behind desk.
All right, that’s enough of this silliness!
Gandalf: Ah! Morning, Frodo.
Frodo: Morning, Gandalf.
Gandalf: What’s, uh,-- what’s all the trouble, then?
Frodo: Stabbed, Gandalf. During the night.
Aragorn: Hmm. Right in the shoulder, eh?
Frodo: Yes.
Gandalf: How does it feel?
Frodo: Stings a bit.
Gandalf: Mmm. Well, it would, wouldn’t it? That’s, uh,… quite a wound you’ve got there, you know.
Frodo: Yes, a… real beauty, isn’t it?
Gandalf: Any idea who did it?
Frodo: None whatsoever. Complete mystery to me. Woke up just now, one festering wound too many.
Gandalf: Hmm. Well, we’ve sent for Elrond.
Frodo: Ohh, hardly worth it, isn’t it?
Aragorn: Oh, yes. Better safe than sorry.
Gandalf: Ah, hello, Elrond.
Elrond: Morning! I came as fast as I could. Is, uhh,-- is something up?
Aragorn: Yes. Uh, during the night, old Frodo got his shoulder sort of… stabbed.
Elrond: Ahh. Been in the Wars, have we?
Frodo: Not yet, actually.
Elrond: Quite right. Ehh. Any headache? Bowels all right? Mm. Well, let’s have a look at this festering wound of yours, then, eh? Yes. Yes. Yes, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes. Yes, well, this is nothing to worry about.
Frodo: Oh, good.
Elrond: Yes, there’s a lot of it about. Probably a virus. Uh, keep warm, plenty of rest, and if you’re playing tennis or anything, try and favour the other arm.
Frodo: Right-o.
Elrond: Be as right as rain in a couple of days.
Frodo: Oh. Thanks for the reassurance, Lord Elrond.
Elrond: Not at all. That’s what I’m here for. Any other problems I can reassure you about?
Frodo: No, I’m fine.
Elrond: Jolly good. Well, must be off.
Frodo: So, it’ll, ehh,-- it’ll just close up again, then, will it?
Elrond: Uhh,… I think I’d better come clean with you about this. It’s, um,-- it’s not a virus, I’m afraid. You see, a virus is what we Elves call very, very small. So small, it could not possibly have made off a big, gaping wound in your shoulder. What we’re looking for here is, I think,-- And this is no more than an educated guess. I’d like to make that clear. …Is some shadowy, spectral figure with black robes, a hooded face, with a nasty poisonous blade, about six foot tall, and of very naughty persuation: what we Elves, in fact, call a ‘nazgul’.
Frodo, Gandalf, and Aragorn: A nazgul?!
EVERYONE: A nazgul?!
[mayhem]
Aragorn: A nazgul… so far West?
Gandalf: Hm?
Aragorn: A nazgul so far West?!
Gandalf: W-- Ah, well, it, uh,-- it has probably escaped from Minas Morgul.
Aragorn: Doesn’t sound very likely to me.
Gandalf: shhh!
Glorfindel: Lord Elrond!
Elrond: Yes?
Glorfindel: Lord Elrond! The attack’s over! The Riders are retreating!
Elrond: Oh, jolly good.
Glorfindel: Quite a lot of casualties, though.
Elrond: M-hmm.
Glorfindel: Some of our best archers wiped out.
Elrond: Yes.
Glorfindel: Around thirty Elves killed at the Ford.
Elrond: Yes. I see.
Glorfindel: I should think about a hundred-- hundred and fifty Elves altogether, my lord.
Elrond: Jolly good. [sniff]
Glorfindel: I haven’t got the final figures, but there’s a lot of seriously…
Elrond: Yes.
Glorfindel: …wounded around the…
Elrond: Yes. Well, the thing is, I’ve got a bit of a problem here. One of the hobbits has been stabbed.
Glorfindel: Oh, no, sir!
Elrond: I’m afraid so. Probably with a morgul blade.
SERGEANT: So far West?
Gandalf: shhhh…
Aragorn: [mumble]
Gandalf: shhhh…
Inspector: 'ELLO!
Mr. Barliman Butterbur: 'Ello.
Inspector: Mr. Butterbur?
Butterbur: A-yes?
I: You are the sole proprietor and owner of the Prancing Pony Inn?
B: I am, yes.
I: Constable Clitoris and I are from the 'ygiene squad, and we’d like to have a word with you about your box of chocolates entitled the “Prancing Pony Quality Assortment”.
B: Oh, yes.
I: If I may begin at the beginning. First there is the Cherry Fondue. Now this is extremely nasty. (pause) But we can’t prosecute you for that.
B: Ah, agreed.
I: Then we have number four. Number four: Crunchy Orc.
B: Yes.
I: Am I right in thinking there’s a real orc in 'ere?
B: Yes, a little one.
I: What sort of orc?
B: A…a dead orc.
I: Is it cooked?
B: No.
I: What, a RAW orc?!?
B: Oh, we use only the finest baby orcs, dew-picked and flown from Mordor, cleansed in the finest quality spring water, lightly killed, and sealed in a succulent, Rivendellian, quintuple-smooth, treble-milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly frosted with glucose.
I: That’s as may be, but it’s still an orc!
B: What else?
I: Well, don’t you even take the bones out?
B: If we took the bones out, it wouldn’t be crunchy, would it?
I: Constable Clitoris et one of those!! We have to protect the public!
I: We have to protect the public! People aren’t going to think there’s a real orc in chocolate! Constable Clitoris thought it was an almond whirl! They’re bound to expect some sort of mock orc!
B: (outraged) MOCK orc!?! We use NO artificial additives or preservatives of ANY kind!
I: Nevertheless, I advise you in future to replace the words “Crunchy Orc” with the legend, “Crunchy, Raw, Unboned Real Dead Orc” if you wish to avoid prosecution!
B: What about our sales?
I: FUCK your sales! We’ve got to protect the public! Now what about this one, number five, it was number five, wasn’t it? Number five: Uruk-Hai’s Bladder Cup. Now, what sort of confectionery is that?!?
B: Oh, we use only the finest juicy chunks of fresh Isengardian Uruk-Hai’s bladder, emptied, steamed, flavoured with sesame seeds, whipped into a fondue, and garnished with lark’s vomit.
I: LARK’S VOMIT?!?!?
B: Correct.
I: It doesn’t say anything here about lark’s vomit!
B: Ah, it does, at the bottom of the label, after “monosodium glutamate”.
I: I hardly think that’s good enough! I think it’s be more appropriate if the box bore a great red label: “WARNING: LARK’S VOMIT!!!”
B: Our sales would plummet!
I: (screaming) Well why don’t you move into more conventional areas of confectionary??!!
I: Like Praline, or, or Istarian Icing , a very popular flavor, I’m lead to understand. Or Morian Lite. I mean, what’s this one, what’s this one? 'Ere we are: Goblin Cluster! – – Anthrax Ripple!
I: (continuing) And what is this one: Spring Surprise?
B: Ah, that’s one of our specialities. Covered in dark, velvety chocolate, when you pop it into your mouth, stainless steel bolts spring out and plunge straight through both cheeks.
I: (stunned) Well where’s the pleasure in THAT?!? If people pop a nice little chockie into their mouth, they don’t expect to get their cheeks pierced!!! In any case, it is an inadequate description of the sweetmeat. I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station.
B: (shrugging) It’s a fair cop.
Sauron: (whistles a bit, then) Hello. I would like to buy an orc licence, please.
Clerk: A what?
Sauron: A licence for my pet Orc, Frodo.
Clerk: How did you know my name was Frodo?
Sauron: No, no, no! My orc’s name is Frodo. Frodo the orc. He’s an Uruk 'Hai.
Clerk: What?
Praline: He is an Uruk 'Hai.
Clerk: You’ve got a pet Uruk 'Hai?
Sauron: Yes, I chose him out of thousands. I didn’t like the others, they were all too fat.
Clerk: You must be a loony.
Sauron: I am not a loony. Why should I be tarred with the epithet ‘loony’ merely because I have a pet Uruk ‘Hai? I’ve heard tell that Ulmo has a pet prawn called Samwise - you wouldn’t call him a loony! Furthermore Nessa, the wife of Orome, had a snail called Beren, after late man-hero. Irmo has two fleas, both called Legolas, and Aule had an ‘addock! So if you’re calling the Builder of Mountains a loony, I shall have to ask you to step outside!
Clerk: All right, all right, all right. A licence?
Sauron: Yes!
Clerk: For an orc.
Sauron: Yes!
Clerk: You are a loony.
Sauron: Look, it’s a bleeding pet, isn’t it? I’ve got a licence for me pet dog Frodo, I’ve got a licence for me pet troll Frodo.
Clerk: You don’t need a licence for your troll.
Sauron: I bleedin’ well do and I’ve got one! Can’t be caught out there!
Clerk: There is no such thing as a bloody troll Licence.
Sauron: Yes there is.
Clerk: No there isn’t.
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: Is!
Clerk: Isn’t!
Sauron: What’s that then?
Clerk: This is a dog licence with the word ‘dog’ crossed out and ‘troll’ written in in crayon.
Sauron: Man didn’t have the right form.
Clerk: What man?
Sauron: The man from the troll detector van.
Clerk: The loony detector van, you mean.
Sauron: Look, it’s people like you what cause unrest.
Clerk: What troll detector van?
Sauron: The troll detector van from the Ministry of Housinge.
Clerk: Housinge?
Sauron: It was spelt like that on the van. I’m very observant. I never seen so many bleedin’ aerials. The man said their equipment could pinpoint a trollish roar at four hundred leagues, and Frodo being such a good little troll was a piece of cake.
Clerk: How much did you pay for this?
Sauron: Sixty quid and eight for the Easterling.
Clerk: What Easterling?
Sauron: Frodo the Easterling.
Clerk: Are all your pets called Frodo?
Saurong: There’s nothing so odd about that. Elrond has an entire menagerie called Adkinson.
Clerk: No he doesn’t.
Sauron: Does!
Clerk: Doesn’t!
Sauron: Does, does, does, does, does and does!
Clerk: Oh all right.
Sauron: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a orc licence?
Clerk: I promise you that there is no such thing. You don’t need one.
Sauron: Then I would like a statement to that effect signed by Iluvatar.
Clerk: no, he’s busy, look. I can’t give you an orc licence.
Sauron: In that case give me a ling licence.
Clerk: A licence for your pet -ling?
Sauron: Correct.
Clerk: Called Frodo? Frodo the ling?
Sauron: No.
Clerk: No?
Sauron: No, Frodo the half ling. He had an accident.
Clerk: You’re off your chump.
Sauron: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or even to deny the semi-existence of my little chum Frodo the half ling, I shall have to ask you to listen to this. Take it away, Frodo the orchestra-leader.
Singer: A one… two-- A one… two… three… four…
Sauron (sings):
a Half-a-ling, is a thing,
That is so small you can miss him
So, some half-a-ling has got my Ring
And met up with a human king.
But can a king and said half-ling
take my ring into hiding
when riding are my own 9 kings
who will get me back my precious ring?
Singing…
Chorus: Ling a- ding ding, pang pong ping,
Frodo the half-a-ling.
A B C D E F “ing”,
Frodo the half-a-ling.
Sauron:
Is this wretched demi-ling,
poised to be my own ending,
since now he has my precious ring?
No! Shelob will remove his Sting!
Chorus: Fiddle de dong, Fiddle de ding,
Frodo the half-a-ling.
Pong pong pong, ping ping ping,
Frodo the half-a-ling.
Sauron:
I saught his hole, this half-a-ling.
In the Shire is where I did begin.
One scary afternoon riding,
My ringwraiths caught a wiff of him.
Chorus: His ringwraiths caught a wiff of him,
musty wiff of him.
Sauron: The end.
Clerk: Must he wiff often?
Sauron: No; musty wiff of him!
Clerk: Oh.
Chorus: Must he wiff often. (whistling)
“Half-a-ling”. <snort>
(at the Prancing Pony)
Frodo (singing atop a table):
Never be rude to a Nazgul,
an Uruk, a crave troll or orc
Never make fun of a wise old ent
no matter how he talks
Never poke fun at a hobbit,
an elf, or a man, or a dwarf
And never be…
(he falls off the table and vanishes into thin air)
**(at the Prancing Pony)
Frodo (singing atop a table):
Never be rude to a Nazgul,
an Uruk, a crave troll or orc
Never make fun of a wise old ent
no matter how he talks
Never poke fun at a hobbit,
an elf, or a man, or a dwarf
And never be…
(he falls off the table and vanishes into thin air)**
Ah darn I was going to do that one. :)
snicker
goes off to look through her Python scripts for another likely candidate
Voice over: This maiar is Sauron, the Dark Lord of Middle Earth. In a moment he will pour his essence into the One Ring and as a consequence he will die wearing it.
(Sauron picks the Ring up and runs laughing into battle, Isildur lobs his finger off and Sauron dies. Isildur put on the ring, runs off and is killed by orcs).
Voice over: It was clear that this Ring was lethal. No one could wear it and live.
Reporter: We are coming to you live from Moria were tragedy has struck the Fellowship. Sudden, violent tragedy. With me is wizard Gandalf the Grey who will be attempting to escape the Balrog. Gandalf?
Gandalf: I will attempt to guide Frodo, the Ringbearer out of Moria and destroy the ring. I will be assisted in battle by Legolas and Gimli, three other hobbits and the men Aragorn and Boromir.
(The Fellowships moans laments as Gandalf falls in Moria)
Reporter: Such an epic display of bravery that will not be easily forgotten.
Voice over (footage of wraiths riding out of Minas Morgul): It was not long before the disembodied eye of Sauron took interest in retreaving his One ring. Ringwraiths sent out to get it were routed at the Ford outside Rivendell. (footage of wraith’s swept away by the white horses)
Glorfindel (at the Ford): Fantastic!
Saruman (walking through the gardens of Isengarde): All through that winter and the next, we had wraiths and orcs working around the clock to try to get the One Ring. At one point we thought we had it, we realised later we didn’t. Finally, by the time the ring had reached the borders of Mordor, we had an army big enough to take on the world of Men.
Voice over: This army was first tested fully at the seige of Helms Deep.
(scenes of fighting)
Voice over: Theoden’s causalties were appaulling. (scenes of badly maimed men of Rohan). But the victory was still there’s. Meanwhile.
Gollum: Where isss the Preciousss?
Frodo: I’m sorry, all I give you is some elvish rope 'round your neck and some lembas.
Gollum: We has waysesss, yessss, we doessss precioussss, waysesss to make hobbitssesss give it to ussss.
Frodo: I’m immune to physical pain.
Gollum: Aw… gollum gollum mastersss’s no fun! We will have to find other wayses.
(Shelob appears and bites Frodo. Sam grabs the ring and runs off)
Gollum: Thatsss not funny, preciousss!
Voice over: Soon the men of Middle Earth began work on their own army, one that they hoped would rival the hordes of Mordor and Isengarde.
Aragorn: Next.
Hopeful: Hello. I’d like to fight for Middle Earth even though I’m dead. I’m not very good with a sword but I’m good as scaring people.
Aragorn: We’ll let you know.
Voice over: Finally, by the time of the seige of Minas Tirith, the men had their own army which they hoped would hold back the army of Mordor.
(scenes of fighting)
Voice over: Finally, at te end of the 3rd age, peace broke out. Ring making was band at a special council at the house of Elrond and the Ring was laid to rest here, in the fires of Mount Doom, never to be worn again.
Lord Sauron Made Them All
All things dull and ugly
All creatures short and squat
All things rude and nasty
Lord Sauron made the lot
Each Nazgul breath that poisons
Each Morgul blade that stings
He made nine kings his ghostly slaves
He made their flying ‘things’
All things fell and cancerous
All evils great and small
All Rings bright and powerful
Lord Sauron made them all
Each nasty little Easterling
Each beastly little orc
Who made the tower of Baradur?
Who did? He did! (The dork)
All things scabbed and Mordor-ous
All wars both great and small
Putrid, foul and gangrenous
Lord Sauron made them all
Ash-nazg. 
Nice! 
Voice Over: Yes, mothers, new improved Lembas waybread containing 10% more or less is absolutely indistinguishable from a dead orc. Remember, buy Lembas and go to Valinor!
(Cut to a group old-aged hobbits being interviewed.)
First hobbit: I can’t tell the difference between Lembas waybread and this dead orc.
Saruman: Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten hobbits can’t tell the difference between Lembas and a dead orc.
Hobbits: It’s true, we can’t. No.
Second Hobbit: Here. Here! You’re a wizard, aren’t you?
Saruman: (modestly) Yes, yes.
Second Hobbit: He does the thing with one of those silly hobbits who can’t tell Lembas from a dead orc.
Third Hobbit: You try that around here, young man, and we’ll slit your face.
Announcer: And now for something completely different: a Stoorling corrupted by the ring.
Legolas: He ran away.
Saruman: Hi! How are you?
Uruk 1: Oh, we’re just fine.
Saruman: What kind of food d’ you like to eat this evening?
Uruk 2: Well, we sort of like manflesh.
Saruman: Manflesh. Hmm…
Uruk 1: Yeah, we love manflesh.
Saruman: Hmmm…
Uruk 2: Yeah, anything with manflesh in it is great for us.
“Ohhhh…
I’m an Uruk-hai and I’m ok,
I march all night and I burn and slay!”
He’s an Uruk-hai and he’s ok,
He marches all night and burns and slays!
“I cut down trees, I piss off Ents, I go to the lava’try!
On Wednesdays I go raiding, and have a killing spree!”
He cuts down trees, he pisses off Ents, he goes to the lava’try!
On Wednesdays he goes raiding, and has a killing spree!
OK, I’ll stop now.
Kilt-wearin’ man wrote:
He cuts down trees, he pisses off Ents, he goes to the lava’try!
On Wednesdays he goes raiding, and has a killing spree!
Awwww, I wanted to see the Uruk-hai in frilly undies…
snicker
Fishgoat