galadriel's all purpose store. galadriel, tired and sweaty after a long day's work is just beginning to relax.
(enter gimli)
galadriel: yeah? whadda ya want?
gimli: 3 golden hairs from your head
galadriel: 3 golden 'airs! 'ave we 3 golden 'airs?
(enter a scruffy, hen- pecked little man)
celeborn: no dear, they went out of stock yesterday. you granddaughter's on the phone.
galadriel: i'll take it out 'ere. (phone convo) yes dear, it's me. what do you mean he's giving you trouble again? when celebrian married him i knew 'e'd be no good. you just tell 'im that your old enough to decide who ya marry love.
gimli: errrrrr, excuse me? may i order them?
galadriel: yeah, just fill in that form...no darlin', runnin' away won't do no good. you just give 'im a good talkin' to and if 'e still won't give in, tell 'im to call me, alright? i mean, you're not that pretty, aragorn's not gonna wait around that long. you gotta get 'im before 'e's king 'cause then 'e'll 'ave the whole of gondor swoonin' at 'is feet...yeah, it's always the way darlin'...
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no one in particular
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