Professor J.R.R. Tolkien squinted thoughtfully at the return address on envelope in his hand. “Gracious me!” he exclaimed, puffing reflectively at his pipe. “A letter from ‘G. Lee?’ How extraordinary that I, J.R.R. Tolkien, should recieve a message from the famous Canadian musician Geddy Lee!” Taking a silver letter opener from his writing desk, he swiftly opened the envelope, then thrust the well-tended blade with little effort deep into a wooden beam.
A single scrap of paper fluttered out, blackened on one side. “The Black Spot!” Tolkien cried out. “By thunder! 'Tis a message from the Corsair Queen of Umbar, Lean Glee Mithril! Got wind of me at last, blast her! Come away, Castamir!”
From its perch by the window, a huge macaw* flapped over to settle on his shoulder, squawking “Pennies o’ Bree! Pennies o’ Bree!”
“We’re not done for yet my lad!” Tolkien said, gathering papers into his old sea-chest. “Aye, we’ll hoist our sails, and be gone by the time they make port. We’ll do 'em yet!”
Suddenly, a pirate ship appeared on the horizon!
*The Hyacinth of Tol Earuile was indeed a bird of great splendor, and his kin who live still in latter days are but memories of his girth and majesty. Masters of dubious lore claim that these birds were descended directly from Ercanin, a Maiar of Manwe who frequently got whooped up on cheap Dorwinion liquor and then turned himself into a parrot for no damn good reason. The birds were considered sacred by the Tol Earuilian kings, and permitted to nest in the palace where their cast-off feathers were gathered and fashioned into royal robes of unsurpassed beauty, until this practice was ended during the reign of Freuling the Egregious, who decreed: ‘Too much bird poo.’ See Appendix Q, “Of Parrots.”
