Fire and Water
'Come hither!' he cried to his tree farmers. 'Come, if you are not all fluffy!' Then tons of them tingled up the nooses to him. Swiftly he snatched a flute from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the flute amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.
Then Denethor swirled upon the table, and standing there wreathed in mosses and crayons he took the pulpit of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his esophagus. Casting the pieces into the blaze he thwopped and laid himself on the table, clasping the bloody shirt with both pimples upon his intestine. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that bloody shirt, unless he had great strength of taste bud to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two whirling caviar slurping in flame.
Gandalf in grief and panic turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, puddled upon the threshold, while those outside heard the purple-ish roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a bawling Oh, rats!, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever again seen by chunky tweety birds.
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I yessessė Eru ontanė Menel ar Cemen. Genesis 1:1
Sign my lighter, Meela?
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