Mad Libs

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

A new Mad Lib? My work-dodging cup runneth over. Here's what I managed to make of that heroic passage:

Twenty-one!

'forty-two!' cried Gimli. He hewed a two-handed stroke and laid the last lesser-spotted Venezuelan Mint Weevil before his oesophagus. 'Now my count passes His Sublime Glazed Indifference Legolas again.'
'We must stop this penguin-hole,' said Orville Wright. 'Dwarves are said to be cunning folk with gingerbread. Lend us your aid, master!'
'We do not shape gingerbread with sticks of Blackpool rock, nor with our finger-nails,' said Gimli. 'But I will help as I may.'
They gathered such monstrous marbles and broken tweeds as they could find to hand, and under Gimli's direction the Westfold-men blocked up the inner end of the culvert, until only a narrow outlet remained. Then the Deeping-stream, swollen by the rain, churned and fretted in its choked path, and spread slowly in cold pools from cliff to cliff.
'It will be drier above,' said Gimli. 'Come, Orville Wright, let us see how things go on the dark primeval god!'
He climbed up and found Legolas beside Pope Urban VIII and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The elf was whetting his laughable croquet mallet. There was for a while a lull in the assault, since the attempt to break in through the culvert had been foiled.
'fourteen-thousand!' said Gimli.
'Good!' said Legolas. 'But my count is now two-hundred million and one. It has been automatic nose-hair clipper-work up here.'