The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

Lalwendë · 03-06-2005, 01:18 PM

The sequel to Lord of the Rings - set in 'modern times'. Written by the team who brought you Footballers' Wives.

Lord of the Blings.
Set in the seventh age of Men. DJ Sauron had a nifty piece of ice hand made for him by Guffi; it was so blindin' that everyone fell before it and praised his superior taste in bling. But alas, it was lost in a scrap outside a nightclub one night, and he never found it again. He was so embarrassed that he didn't leave the house for weeks.

It was found one day by a passing chav who kept it hidden until a sneaky little tyke broke into his house one night and nicked it. Unfortunately, he'd left it on the shelf by the back door, and this tyke pinched it by means of 'fishing' with a bent coathanger through the letterbox. He was after the car keys really, but never mind, it was a nice trinket...

Several weeks passed. DJ Sauron meanwhile, had been on the phone to every pawnbrokers, to cash converters, everything he could think of, trying to see of someone had tried to sell his beloved bit of bling. In the end he got his 'crew' out and instructed them to get heavy with anyone they saw toting the bling.

Meanwhile, the little tyke's kindly uncle came round to visit and on seeing the trinket he had suddenly acquired, became alarmed. "This must belong to someone with a lot of money, my lad," he said. "You want to be careful with that. Now, where on earth did you get the money to buy it? Surely it did not come from Argos?" The little tyke shifted uncomfortably and looked at the floor. His kindly uncle knew something was up, and next time he was down at the Seven Stars, the pub behind the High Street, he put some feelers out. Next day he went back to see his nephew and asked to see the trinket.

"Turn it over," he said. And there, only revealed under UV light, was DJ Sauron's postcode (for he had the sense to have his ice laser etched). "Here, you have it, you'll keep it safe," said his nephew. Recoiling with a look of horror, his uncle blanched "No!" he declared. "I'm not being seen out with that. I don't want my nose punching, ta." His nephew said "Well what am I to do with it?" His uncle had considered this. "The only thing you can do, I suppose, is somehow get it to the dumpsters on the council tip. For there the crushers will deal with this and pulverise it into many pieces. But the trip is perilous. You must go past Maccy D's, KFC and right past the very block of flats where DJ Sauron lives. Even now his crew are out looking for someone like you."

And so the journey began...

03-06-2005, 01:18 PM	#5
Lalwendë A Mere Boggart Join Date: Mar 2004 Location: under the bed Posts: 4,814	The sequel to Lord of the Rings - set in 'modern times'. Written by the team who brought you Footballers' Wives. Lord of the Blings. Set in the seventh age of Men. DJ Sauron had a nifty piece of ice hand made for him by Guffi; it was so blindin' that everyone fell before it and praised his superior taste in bling. But alas, it was lost in a scrap outside a nightclub one night, and he never found it again. He was so embarrassed that he didn't leave the house for weeks. It was found one day by a passing chav who kept it hidden until a sneaky little tyke broke into his house one night and nicked it. Unfortunately, he'd left it on the shelf by the back door, and this tyke pinched it by means of 'fishing' with a bent coathanger through the letterbox. He was after the car keys really, but never mind, it was a nice trinket... Several weeks passed. DJ Sauron meanwhile, had been on the phone to every pawnbrokers, to cash converters, everything he could think of, trying to see of someone had tried to sell his beloved bit of bling. In the end he got his 'crew' out and instructed them to get heavy with anyone they saw toting the bling. Meanwhile, the little tyke's kindly uncle came round to visit and on seeing the trinket he had suddenly acquired, became alarmed. "This must belong to someone with a lot of money, my lad," he said. "You want to be careful with that. Now, where on earth did you get the money to buy it? Surely it did not come from Argos?" The little tyke shifted uncomfortably and looked at the floor. His kindly uncle knew something was up, and next time he was down at the Seven Stars, the pub behind the High Street, he put some feelers out. Next day he went back to see his nephew and asked to see the trinket. "Turn it over," he said. And there, only revealed under UV light, was DJ Sauron's postcode (for he had the sense to have his ice laser etched). "Here, you have it, you'll keep it safe," said his nephew. Recoiling with a look of horror, his uncle blanched "No!" he declared. "I'm not being seen out with that. I don't want my nose punching, ta." His nephew said "Well what am I to do with it?" His uncle had considered this. "The only thing you can do, I suppose, is somehow get it to the dumpsters on the council tip. For there the crushers will deal with this and pulverise it into many pieces. But the trip is perilous. You must go past Maccy D's, KFC and right past the very block of flats where DJ Sauron lives. Even now his crew are out looking for someone like you." And so the journey began... __________________ Gordon's alive!