[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Ably assisted by boredom, a bottle of Aberlour and my hard-back of The Lord of the Rings, I thought up the following:
'I cannot read the fiery letters,' said Frodo, in a quavering voice.
'No,' said Gandalf, 'but I can. The letters are Elvish, of an ancient mode, but the language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here. But this in the Common Tongue is what is said, close enough:
Why is an elephant big, grey and wrinkly?
Because if it was small, white and round it would be an aspirin
Both fell silent, feeling the presence of great evil.