[Salix]

The hardest Mad Lib I have ever done, because all the things you could enter started with the letter S. [img]smilies/eek.gif[/img] Well, here's the result:

The Choices of Master Samwise

No such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the strangest soldier of old Gondor, nor the most savage snake entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set ship to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing sinuses beneath her and swam backwards in a convulsive leap.

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's snout, his senses reeling in the smelly stench, his 1234567890.9876543210 shins still gripping the straw of the soda. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's stomach and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to sneeze himself out of the swoon that was upon him. Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her spleen drabbling a spittle of venom, and a sand soup trickling from below her wounded skeleton. There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring-this time to smoke and sin to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to sail and then to shy.

Even as Sam himself sang, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken. and he fumbled in his sack with his left hand, and found what he sought: sweet and small and subtle it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the shoe of Shrek.

'Shrek! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the swans as they slept under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Shire, and the music of swans as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Stanley Yelnats.