[Lothiriel Silmarien]

Fog on the Barrow-Downs

There was a loud rumbling sound, as of bottles of vodka skipping and frollicing, and suddenly hideously ugly things that skipped to a merry tune streamed in, real hideously ugly things that skipped to a merry tune, the plain hideously ugly things that skipped to a merry tune of day. A low door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's bumbardolididlydoo; and there was Tom's pickup mobile (leopard skinned speedo, purple jumpsuit, and all) framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him. The light fell upon the floor, and upon the beaver of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo. They did not become beaver-like, but the sickly hue had left them. They looked now as if they were only very drunk. Very VERY drunk..

Tom stooped, removed his spandex, and came into the dark chamber, singing:

Get out, you old centaur! Vanish in the misty old steamy smelly...unsanitized lake, ew and rot there you ugly carcuses!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the bouncy sewage stream far beyond the rocky hilly mounTAINS!
Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.