If LotR had been written by someone else!?

[dragongirlG]

These are excellent!!!! I wish someone would write a Hawthorne (author of the Scarlet Letter parody, that'd be interesting! I might write a parody myself! Oooh, I know, when I'm done with The Catcher in the Rye I might write one. Good job, everyone!

[Ulmo]

Originally posted by Mister Underhill:
<STRONG>By Mark Twain, who would undoubtedly have focused on the true hero of the narrative – that mischievous rascal, Pippin:
~~~~~~~
NOTICE:
Persons attempting to resolve the question of Balrog wings by means of this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to define the nature of Tom Bombadil will be banished; persons attempting to find allegory in it will be shot.
BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR,
Per G.G., Chief of Ordnance.

FOREWORD:
In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Quenya Elvish dialect; the extremest form of the Rhovanion dialect; the ordinary Sindarin dialect; and four modified varieties of this last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech.

I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not succeeding.
THE AUTHOR.

CHAPTER 1
You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Red Book of Westmarch; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Frodo Baggins and his Uncle Bilbo, and they told the truth, mainly. There was things which they stretched, but mostly they told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was the Lady Galadriel, or Elrond, or maybe Gandalf. The Lady Galadriel – the Lady of Lothlorien, she is – and Elrond, and the wizard Gandalf is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.</STRONG>

LOL! Mister Underhill, that is without a doubt, my favorite! Too funny. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

This thread needs to be printed out, framed, and shoved in a time capsule somewhere. [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]

Great job everyone!

[Mister Underhill]

I love this thread, as each time it’s revived, new inspiration strikes...

LotR by RAY BRADBURY
In which Gandalf gains a new perspective on his heretofore unexamined mission:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a pleasure to burn.

It was a special pleasure to see Hobbits eaten, to see them blackened and changed. With the wooden staff in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous pitch upon the Shire, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his pointed hat on his wizened head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he mumbled a Word of Command and the Great Smials jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a haunch of mutton on a spit in the furnace, while the flapping, ridiculous Hobbits died on the porch and lawn of the great Hobbit-hole. While the Hobbits went up in greasy, sparkling whirls that blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.

Gandalf grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame. Fools of Tooks! he thought with an inward chuckle, as the smell of burnt foot-hair filled his nostrils, as welcome as the smell of a fresh-baked apple pie cooling on the sill.

He knew that when he returned to Lothlórien, he might wink at himself, a minstrel man, burnt-corked, in the Mirror of Galadriel. Later, going to sleep, he would feel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles, in the dark. It never went away, that smile, it never ever went away, as long as he remembered.

[Bruce MacCulloch]

Would that be Farenheit 1420?

[Birdland]

Mr. Underhill, you sicko! (Still laughing!)

[Jessica Jade]

these posts are ingenious! Keep up the excellent creativity! I liked the Ray Bradbury one particularly, as well as Monty Python and Edgar Allen Poe. Jane Austen as well. These are awesome...hmmm i'm considering writing a Dante (author of The Divine Comedy (more commonly known for The Inferno part) parady, once i finish Inferno. lol lol. This thread is great! I love it!

[dragongirlG]

LOL, Mister Underhill! Your Ray Bradbury one was excellent and pretty sick, lol!! Keep writing!

[Maltaharma]

If LOTR was written by (god forbid) The Marx Brothers...
Legolas: This morning I got up and shot an orc in my pajamas. How the orc got into my pajamas, I dunno.
Gimli: Honk-honk!

Aragorn: "The orcs are coming!" Hobbits: "La la la la la!"-LOTR the Lost musical

[Maltaharma]

If Barbie wrote LOTR...from Frodo's perspective.
"Oh, my, god, I like totally got this ring and like so does not match with like anything i own so i'm going to take it to Mount Doom and like totally return!!! Hey, me and Sam can take the pink jeep! oohh! Hey, like OMG, you stupid orcs, you're liking mussing up my hair! Like AHHHH!! I broke a nail! OMG Middle Earth is like so screwed right now! AHHH!"

"Zippin Pippin!"-Lost diary of merry and pippin

[avarerniliel]

LOTR written by Robert t. Baker:
Now, if you'll just notice the exquisite jaw bone features on this rather short fellow. See how the fur on his feet protects him from the stones and wood littering the ground. His prominent nose sniffs the wind, on alert for any sign of danger in this terrible wasteland. Oh dear, here comes a much larger fellow. Notice how he retreats into the foliage and disappears silently. The ugly large one has found him! He seems to be searching for something, and , yes! I believe he's found it, it appears to be a small metalic circlet of some sort!

[avarerniliel]

Oh, and Bruce, it's not Fahrenheit 1420, it's Fahrenheit 451! Excellent book, I just wish Beatty didn't refer to himself in third person, and everybody else!

Would Montag like a promotion?

[Kalimac]

Lord of the Rings, by Tom Wolfe.

His head still on the pillow, Frodo Baggins groaned. The sound of the knocking on the door of the Prancing Pony was shaking the poisonous yolk that was his head, shaking it, threatening to break it. The yolk was as heavy as unforged mithril, and it tilted this way and that, painful as orc-spear in naked flesh. If the yolk broke, he was finished.

What had he been doing last night? He looked with disgust at the filthy clothes he had left scattered on the floor, at the sloppy arrangement of blankets on the floor that had served him for the bed. A man-sized chair of rickety wood was by the fireplace. Dear God, the Breelanders and their cheap substitutes for real furniture. Again the yolk shifted.

Something about last night. Merry and Pippin had been getting drunk on Butterbur's tab, and he had joined them even though he only had twenty silver pennies and those had to last him until Rivendell...something about the Ring. Frodo jerked his head up and immediately the yolk crashed into his skull. His head fell again. He had sung some outrageously stupid song of that old prat Bilbo's, and even Sam had come in by then and had asked him to sing it again and Frodo, drunk with beer and attention, had agreed and then he had fallen and the Ring had fallen too -

The knocking continued. He had to answer or he would never get to sleep again. He stood up, clutching at the legs of the chair as the yolk shifted again.

He would never drink again. Never! Not so much as a small miruvor until Rivendell - he would be reformed from today on.

The knocking continued. "Oh, come in!" Frodo tried to yell, but ended in a feeble groan. God, the Breelanders, he thought again. The Ring. Why did I ever come here in the first place?

Fantastic! Love the Monty Python! The Hitchhikers! Ahhh...keep them coming.

"What is the air-speed velocity of a Nazgul bearing a coconut?"

"I don't know Gandalf, but it must be better than a Balrog bearing a holy hand grenade and a blazing wrath"

"You mean the holy hand grenade of Antiock?"

"The very same sir"

"Speak of it no more then!"

"OK Gandalf, but may I ask you another question?"

"Very well then"

"Are you actually Tim the Enchanter?"

"There are some who will call me...Tim"

-Terrible I know, curse me for being a huge fan of Monty Python. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[Glenethor]

I liked the Anthony Burgess one. Good thing I wasn't drinking something as I was reading this thread, or I'd have had something coming out my nostrils...

[img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[Bruce MacCulloch]

Oh, and Bruce, it's not Fahrenheit 1420, it's Fahrenheit 451!

I know, Avarneliel, I was trying to make a very bad joke! [img]smilies/tongue.gif[/img] [img]smilies/rolleyes.gif[/img]

[dragongirlG]

The Lord of the Rings by J.D. Salinger (author of The Catcher in the Rye)

If you really want to know about it, I can tell you about my family life, history, etc., and all that Gandalf-firework kind of crap, but I really don't feel like writing it all down. Firstly, that stuff bores me, and second of all, both my parents are dead, so there's really no point in telling you about them. I live with my Uncle Bilbo, if you really are interested, and he's a bit touchy about his true life sometimes. I mean, he's nice and all, but he really is touchy and secretive about his life. I don't really believe about him defeating a dragon with his bare hands with a bunch of dwarves at his heels. Honestly. He just isn't the type who would actually do that. I bet he was involved in the whole dragon deal, but he didn't actually do it. Besides, this isn't supposed to be my whole autobiography or anything. I'm just here to tell you about this crazy stuff that happened to me about a year ago. I was sent here, to the Grey Havens, to come and take it easy, living here with a bunch of Elves and the Grey Wizard. That's all I told Sam about, and half the time he was with me on this big old journey, and plus he's practically my best friend. He's in the Shire. That's really far from this timeless place, right over the big wide sea. Too funny, eh?



Where I want to begin is the day I left Bag End. Bag End is this old hobbit hole down in Hobbiton and near Bywater. You've probably heard old Pippin and Merry talking about it. It was where I used to live with my Uncle Bilbo, before I went on this crazy journey and all. Anyway, it was a weird day. Bilbo sort of left--disappeared, rather, at the end of his birthday speech. I knew he was going to. I'm a pretty bright kid. Well, getting back to the point, the Sackville-Bagginses started to bother me, and I told Merry to deal with them. A few days later Gandalf came to visit. He told me about this weird, screwed-up creature named Gollum. This is actually a few years before I started my journey, but I suppose this is where the whole story actually begins. Well, I decided to wait till Bilbo's birthday--and my birthday--to start. Gandalf caught Sam eavesdropping when we were talking. He was actually working for a conspiracy, but I'll tell you about that later. At least he wasn't all phony about it. He's an honest fellow, Sam. That's the good thing. Except he can be real dumb sometimes too, like that time on my journey when he thought I was dead. Well anyway Gandalf told me to head to Rivendell, where the Elves are. So Pippin, Sam, and I started out, walking in secret to get out of the Shire. On the way this nasty Black Rider appeared on the road. I don't know what he did, but he sort of sniffed for something--I think it was that crazy Ring I'd been carrying around. Well Pippin and Sam got really scared, but I sort of felt like putting on the Ring. I didn't see the big deal. Then we heard some Elves singing. Those Elves...well, they're very complex creatures. A bit superior to all races. Even hobbits.

Whoa...I could go on with this for a long time...tell me what you think.

dragongirlG

[ March 12, 2002: Message edited by: dragongirlG ]

[Lostgaeriel]

The Lord of the Rings as a TV sketch by Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster.
This great Canadian comedy team appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show 57 or 58 times (a record, anyway) and had a long running CBC-TV program – alternately named - The Wayne and Shuster (Comedy) Hour/Special. They were famous for their sketches that poked fun at: The Scarlet Pimpernel with The Brown Pumpernickel, Sherlock Holmes, Robin Hood, Napoleon, Fu Manchu, etc. Some of their best parodies were of Shakespeare’s plays, notably a baseball skit in verse and their famous take on Julius Caesar - Rinse the Blood off My Toga.
This may be too obscure for most everyone on the Downs. It probably helps if you’re Canadian and over 30 - or 40. But I had to do it for the ‘ear’ joke alone. Of course, I’ve lost some of the very best jokes Johnny and Frank ever did by changing the setting from Rome to Minas Tirith - those Latin jokes were the best. And the ending isn't nearly as strong.
Warning: It’s kinda long. I couldn't figure out what part to post as an excerpt. Forgive me. But Johnny and Frank always went to great lengths in setting up the gags. I think the payoffs are worth it.
Corrections to my Elvish translations would be most appreciated.
Thanks to the transcription of Rinse the Blood Off My Toga by Informal (a member of the Later Latin Society) from the CBS Coronet LP featuring Wayne and Shuster's production of their radio play.

Rinse the Blood off My Elf-Cloak by Wayne and Shuster
Dramatis Personae
Gandalf, a P.I. (original Flavius Maximus role played by Johnny Wayne)
Aragorn, ranger and alleged friend of the deceased (original Brutus role played by Frank Shuster)
Faramir, brother of the deceased (original Calpurnia role made famous by Sylvia Lennick)
Imrahil, prince, orator, friend of the deceased
Beregond, a guard of the Citadel
Targon, a sergeant of a company of the Guard
Arwen, an elf-princess (also originally the Calpurnia role!)

Announcer: "Rinse the Blood Off My Elf-Cloak," by Frank Wayne and John Shuster--with apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh & Philippa Boyens, William Shakespeare (and to Francis Bacon, just in case).
(FX--horn flourish) Minas Tirith! 3019 Third Age.
Gandalf: My name is Mithrandir, Private Istar. Licence number 5. (holds licence up to camera) It also comes in handy as a get-out-of-Middle-Earth-free card. I'm gonna tell ya about the Boromir, son of Denethor caper. It all began during the War of the Ring. I had just nailed Saruman the White; he had a crooked Balrog who kept takin' a dive. Anyhow, I was just beginning to rest on my athelas when, suddenly-- he burst in to my office.
Aragorn: You Gandalf Mithrandir, Private I.?
Gandalf: Private Istar. What can I do for you? What's on your mind?
Aragorn: Just a minute. -- Are we alone?
Gandalf: Yes, we're alone.
Aragorn: Are you sure we're alone?
Gandalf: Yes, yes, I'm sure we're alone!
Aragorn: Then who's that standing beside you?
Gandalf: That's you.
Aragorn: I know, but can I be trusted?
Gandalf: (aside) I could see I was dealing with no ordinary man. This guy was a nut! (to Aragorn) All right, what's on your mind?
Aragorn: Mithrandir, a terrible thing has happened. It's the greatest crime in the history of Minas Tirith.
Gandalf: All right, give it to me straight. What's up?
Aragorn: Boromir, son of Denethor has been murdered!
Gandalf: Boromir, son of Denethor murdered?! (aside) I couldn't believe my ears! Big Bori was dead!
Aragorn: Yes, it happened just a few hours ago. Happened in the Citadel; he was stabbed.
Gandalf: Stabbed? In the Citadel?
Aragorn: No, not in the Citadel. They got him right in the Court of the Fountain.
Gandalf: That's a fatal spot. I had a splinter there once. Those White Tree splinters, you know--
Aragorn: Boy, I tell you, all of Gondor is in an uproar. I came to you because you’re the top Private I. in Middle Earth. You've got to find the killer.
Gandalf: (aside) Hasn’t he got ears? It’s Private Istar - Istar. Well, I'll try.
Aragorn: Oh, you can do it. After all, you're the guy that got Wormtongue and sent him up on the Théoden elder abuse rap--
Gandalf: Yes, the whole kingdom of Rohan was sure in an uproar about that, huh? Aina Elbereth!
Aragorn: Now look, what do you say, Mithrandir? Will you take the case?
Gandalf: Just a minute, pally. I'd like to know - just whom I am working for?
Aragorn: I'm a Ranger. I was Boromir’s best friend. The name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur’s son, Elendil’s son of Númenor.
Gandalf: (aside) What a handle! (to Aragorn) Aragorn, eh? All right, Aragorn, you got yourself a boy. I'll take the case. My fee is 125 silver pennies a day, in advance, of course.
Aragorn: Okay, here you are!
(FX---sound of coins tinkling)
Gandalf: You're one short.
(FX--one more coin)
Aragorn: Hey, you got a good ear.
Gandalf: When it comes to money--perfect pitch.
Aragorn: Let's go, eh?
Gandalf: I'm ready. (aside) We went outside--flagged a passing wain and made our way up Rath Vána. The streets were crowded with the usual people -- Guards, healers, Rangers, Rohirrim, sons of Elrond, and little Pheriannath who came out of doorways to sell you postcards from the Shire. Before long we found ourselves at the Citadel.
Aragorn: Mithrandir, this is where it happened. This is where Big Bori got murdered.
Gandalf: Yeah, well, where is the firnadan?
Aragorn: The what?
Gandalf: The firnadan, firnadan. Whassa matter, don't you understand plain Elvish when you hear it?
Aragorn: Oh, the stiff!
Gandalf: Yeah, yeah.
Aragorn: He's lying right over there.
Gandalf: Would you look at that. Seven daggers in him.
Aragorn: Yeah, what do you think?
Gandalf: I think that if he were alive today, he'd be a pretty sick boy. He's really fixed for blades, eh?
Aragorn: Oh, come on Mithrandir, you gotta solve this crime.
Gandalf: All right, all right. Who are those fellas over there?
Aragorn: They were all here when it happened. That's Gimli, Pippin, Merry, and there's Legolas.
Gandalf: Who's that guy over there with the lean and hungry look on his kisser?
Aragorn: That’s Slinker a.k.a. Stinker a.k.a. Gollum a.ka. Sméagol.
Gandalf: Yeah? … Hey! What’s he doing here? He’s not supposed to be in Minas Tirith! (aside) But then, neither was Boromir. And what had happened to Frodo and Sam? Were they in on this hit? I could see I had more than one mystery to solve. But I knew enough to work on the case that had a client – one who had coin. (to Aragorn) Who do you think is the likeliest suspect?
Aragorn: That fella next to him.
Gandalf: Wait a minute--- that's you!
Aragorn: I know, but how do you know I can be trusted?
Gandalf: (aside) I could see that I was dealing with no ordinary case. This was a mental case. (to Aragorn) Wait a minute, who's that guy?
Aragorn: That's Faramir, Boromir’s brother.
Gandalf: Yeah, well, he’s a suspect, too. Wait a minute. Pardon me, Lord Faramir —
Faramir: Yes?
Gandalf: Mithrandir, Private Istar. I'd like to ask you a few questions. What do you know about this?
Faramir: I told him, ‘Bori, don't go’. ‘Don't go Bori’, I said. ‘Don't go, it's the Ring of Doom--’
Gandalf: Now look, Lord Faramir, I'd--
Faramir: If I told him once, I'd told him a thousand times, ‘Bori, don't go--’
Gandalf: Please, don't upset yourself.
Faramir: ‘Bori, don't go,’ I said. ‘It's the Ring of Doom. Beware already.’
Gandalf: Guard of the Citadel, would you take the Lord Faramir to the Houses of Healing, please?
Beregond: Come along, sir. Come along.
Faramir: (fading away) I told him, ‘Bori don't go, don't go--’
(exeunt Faramir, Beregond)
Gandalf: (aside) I don't blame him for going. (to the Fellowship) All right - you members of the Fellowship, you can go, too. But don't leave town.
Aragorn: Well, what do you think?
Gandalf: I don't know. There's not an angle anywhere. Not a clue.
Aragorn: Cheer up, Mithrandir. After all, Minas Tirith wasn't built in a day.
Gandalf: Hey, what was that? What did you just say?
Aragorn: I said, ‘Minas Tirith wasn't built in a day’.
Gandalf: Hey, that's very good. ‘Minas Tirith wasn't built in a day.’ That's pretty good.
Aragorn: You like it?
Gandalf: Yeah, I like it.
Aragorn: It's yours.
Gandalf: Thanks. Well, let's reconstruct the crime: Boromir was over here, and -- What's the matter?
Aragorn: Look over there, behind that pillar. Sshh! There's somebody behind that pillar; I'll go get him---
Gandalf: Right!
Aragorn: All right buddy!
Imrahil: Ai! Ai! Ai! -- Stop it! Stop it!
Gandalf: All right, buster, what are you doing around here?
Imrahil: Well, what do you expect me to be doing? Why shouldn't I be here? I'm Prince Imrahil.
Gandalf: Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth?
Imrahil: Yes. I just made a speech over the body of Boromir. I said, ‘Elves, Hobbits, countrymen, lend me your ears!’
Gandalf: Yeah? What have you got in that sack?
Imrahil: Ears!
Gandalf: Will you get out of here?!
Imrahil: Wait a minute. Don't you want to know who bumped off Boromir, son of Denethor?
Gandalf: Yeah. Do you know who did it? Out with it. What's his name?
Imrahil: (in pain) Ooh, oo-ee-ooo-aaah-oo-ee-oo-ah-ee-oo-ee-ooo-aaah-
Gandalf: That's a funny name. Must be Old Entish.
Aragorn: Look, he's dead.
Gandalf: (aside) What a confusing case. All I got is two dead bodies and a sack full of pointy latex prosthetic ears.
Aragorn: Now, look, Mithrandir, I'm paying you a 110 silver pennies a day—
Gandalf: 125 silver pennies!
Aragorn: All right, you've got a good ear ---
Gandalf: I've got a sack full of good ears!
Aragorn: Now, look, let's have some action, huh?
Gandalf: All right, all right. Don't get your banner in a knot. Listen, I got a pal -Targon. He runs the storehouse and buttery on Rath Tári. He should have a few answers for me.
Aragorn: That's the idea. Get out among the people. Ask questions. After all, when in Minas Tirith, do as the Minas Tiritheans do!
Gandalf: Hey, hey-- what was that one?
Aragorn: I said, ‘When in Minas Tirith, do as the Minas Tiritheans do’.
Gandalf: Oh, that's good. ‘When in Minas Tirith, do as the Minas Tiritheans do’-- very good.
Aragorn: Do you like it?
Gandalf: Yeah.
Aragorn: It's yours.
(exit Aragorn)
Gandalf: Thanks! (aside) The Citadel Guard Storehouse and Buttery is a hangout where I get all the answers. It's just a small place with a few tables and a guy in the corner playing a cool Dale-made flute.
Targon: Hiya, Gandalf.
Gandalf: Hi, Targ. What's new?
Targon: Nothin' much. What'll ya have?
Gandalf: Give me an Old Winyard.
Targon: Don't you mean Old Winyards?
Gandalf: If I wanted two, I’d say so. By the way, could I have a bite to eat?
Targon: Sure thing. What'll ya have?
Gandalf: I could do with some taters.
Targon: Don't you mean po-ta-toes?
Gandalf: If I wanted a lesson in proper Westron, I'd ask for it.
Targon: Here's your Old Winyard and your taters, Gandi.
Gandalf: Let's get back to the business at hand. I'm working on this Boromir, son of Denethor kill; do you know of anything?
Targon: Try that guy over there.
Gandalf: Yeah?
Targon: Yeah.
Gandalf: All right, brother, start talking--
Faramir: I told him, ‘Bori, don't go. Don't go Bori--’
Gandalf: (to Faramir) All right, out, out!
(exit Faramir)
Targon: Hey, look, Mithrandir, I think I know the guy you're looking for.
Gandalf: You mean, Mr. Big?
Targon: Yeah. His name is—(in pain) Ooee--oooo--ee--ah--
Gandalf: Now that's an interesting name. Got a minstrel handy? I'd like to get this down. Targon? Targon! (aside) I'd never get any more information out of him; he was dead! This was shaping up bigger than I thought. Suddenly, I looked up and there was Aragorn.
Aragorn: Hello, Mithrandir.
Gandalf: Aragorn, what are you doing here?
Aragorn: I was looking for you. Hey, who's that on the floor?
Gandalf: That's Targon, the sergeant.
Aragorn: Hey, that's a funny place to carry a knife -- in his back!
Gandalf: He's dead. He was stabbed -- through the hatch.
Aragorn: Hey, that's even more painful than the Court of the Fountain. Hey, have you come up with any answers? Who killed Boromir, son of Denethor?
Gandalf: (aside) I started to think, and slowly the pieces fell into place. Aragorn was the only man around when all those guys got killed. Boromir, Imrahil, Targon. Aragorn was always there. It was all pointing to him. But what was his motive? And then I suddenly understood why Gollum was here. He was still following the Ring! It was time to make my move.
Aragorn: Well, have you come up with any answers? Who killed Boromir, son of Denethor?
Gandalf: Only one guy could have done it.
Aragorn: Yeah, who?
Gandalf: Let's not play games, Aragorn, or should I say---Mr. Big!
Aragorn: What are you getting at?
Gandalf: If the boot fits, wear it. You knocked off Big Bori. He took the Ring from Frodo and you took it from him.
Aragorn: You're out of your head! I hired you to find the killer.
Gandalf: Pretty smart, but not nearly smart enough. Now, are you gonna talk? Or do I have to call in a couple of Guards to lean on ya?
Aragorn: All right, flatfoot, I admit it. I knocked off Big Bori for the Ring, an' I'd do it again.
Gandalf: That's all I wanted to know. I'm sending you up the Anduin for a long stretch. Come on, I'll call a wain, and we'll go downtown.
Aragorn: Don't move unless you want the Sword that was Broken in the robe. I'm getting out of here, and don't try to stop me!
(exit Aragorn)
Gandalf: (aside) He had the drop on me, but I knew where he was heading--the scene of the crime: the Citadel. Twenty seconds later, I pulled up on my horse, Shadowfax. Hey, he’s a fast horse! (to Beregond) Guard, hand me that Palantír.
Beregond: Here you are, Mithrandir.
Gandalf: All right, Aragorn, this is Mithrandir. I know you're in there, come on out.
Aragorn: Come and get me, you dirty rotten flatfoot!
Gandalf: You haven't got a chance, Aragorn. I got the Citadel surrounded by a stake-out. Now, throw your Sword down, roll the Ring out, and come out with your hands up.
Aragorn: If you want me, come and claim me!
Gandalf: Get smart, Aragorn, we can smoke you out. We'll throw in Longbottom Leaf, Southlinch, Old Toby and Southern Star. We'll throw in firecrackers and squibs, crackers, backarappers, sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers and thunder-claps.
Aragorn: I don't care what you do!
Gandalf: All right, you asked for it. (to Beregond) Give it to him, Beregond. (to Aragorn) All right Aragorn, I'll fill you fulla arrows.
Aragorn: All right, you got me! (aside) Grey Fool! Stormcrow! …Wizard! (to Gandalf) But I'll be back.
Gandalf: Oh no you won't.
Aragorn: I'll be back. (aside) There are two more movies after Boromir 'sleeps with the fishes'. (to Gandalf) Just remember one thing - all roads lead to Minas Tirith.
Beregond: Come on you; let's go.
Gandalf: No, no, wait a minute--wait. Bring him back.
Aragorn: What? --- What?
Gandalf: That was a dandy! ‘All roads lead to Minas Tirith.’ That's the best.
Aragorn: Do you like it?
Gandalf: Yes--
Aragorn: Well, you can't have it! (spits)
Gandalf: Oh, get outta here!
(exeunt Aragorn, Beregond)
Host of the West: All Hail Mithrandir! All Minas Tirith salutes you. Hail Mithrandir!
Gandalf: Take him, boys. And now I got a date with a doll. Okay, Evenstar, baby. Now are you sure your fiancé won't object?
Arwen: Well, frankly, I don't care. If I told him once, I told him a thousand times, ‘Don't go, Ari!’ I said, ‘It's the Ring of Doom; beware already. Don't go, Ari, don't go---’ (fade out)
(exeunt Gandalf, Arwen)
(FX---horn flourish)
The End

[ March 18, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]

[ May 19, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]

[Lostgaeriel]

The Lord of the Rings written by Murray Burnett & Joan Alison, Julius J. Epstein & Philip G. Epstein and Howard Koch (with some help from Casey Robinson, Lenore Coffee, Aeneas MacKenzie, Wallie Kline).

(Murray Burnett & Joan Alison wrote the original stage play Everybody Comes to Rick’s. Julius J. Epstein & Philip G. Epstein and Howard Koch wrote the Oscar-winning screenplay for the classic movie, Casablanca - Best Picture of 1943. Michael Curtiz won the Academy award for Best Director.)

CÍRDAN: Hello. Hello, radio tower? Haven ship sailing in ten minutes. West slipway. Visibility: one and one half miles. Light fog. Depth of fog: approximately 500. Ceiling: irrelevant. Thank you.
ARAGORN: (indicating the Shipwright) Saruman, have Círdan go with Master Elrond and take care of his luggage.
SARUMAN: (bowing ironically) Certainly Aragorn, anything you say. (to Círdan) Find Master Elrond’s luggage and put it on the ship.
CÍRDAN: Yes, sir. This way please.
The Shipwright escorts Elrond in the direction of the ship. Aragorn takes the letters of transit out of his pocket and hands them to the Wizard, who turns and walks toward the quay.
ARAGORN: If you don’t mind, you fill in the names. That will make it even more official.
SARUMAN: You think of everything, don’t you?
ARAGORN: (quietly) And the names are Elrond and Arwen Half-Elven.
ARWEN: But why my name, Aragorn?
ARAGORN: Because you’re getting on that ship.
ARWEN: (confused) I don’t understand. What about you?
ARAGORN: I’m staying here with him ‘til the ship gets safely away.
ARWEN: No, Aragorn, no. What has happened to you? Last night we said ---
ARAGORN: ---Last night we said a great many things. You said I was to do the thinking for both of us. Well, I’ve done a lot of it since then and it all adds up to one thing. You’re getting on that ship with Elrond where you belong.
ARWEN: (protesting) But Aragorn, no, I, I, --
ARAGORN: -- You’ve got to listen to me. Do you have any idea what you’d have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten we’d both wind up in Barad-dûr. Isn’t that true, Saruman?
Saruman countersigns the papers.
SARUMAN: I’m afraid the Lord Sauron would insist.
ARWEN: You’re saying this only to make me go.
ARAGORN: I’m saying it because it’s true. Inside of us we both know you belong with Elrond. You’re part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that ship leaves the Havens and you’re not with him, you’ll regret it.
ARWEN: No.
ARAGORN: Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.
ARWEN: But what about us?
ARAGORN: We’ll always have Lothlórien. We didn’t have, we’d lost it, until you came to Rivendell. We got it back last night.
ARWEN: And I said I would never leave you.
ARAGORN: And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. Arwen, I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t add up to a hill of beans in this crazy Middle-earth. Someday you’ll understand that. Now, now…
Arwen’s eyes well up with tears. Aragorn puts his hand to her chin and raises her face to meet his own.
ARAGORN: Here’s looking at you kid.

I'd go on and finish it – The Black Captain’s been shot. ... Round up the usual suspects. ... Saruman, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. - but my previous entry was too long and I don't want to repeat that offence.

[ March 24, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]

[Nevfeniel]

How 'bout John Knowles?

[dragongirlG]

How 'bout John Knowles?

Oooh, I read him a couple months ago...I'll have to think about that.

[Nevfeniel]

Or maybe Shakespeare (someone told me that if you want to understand Shakespeare, all you have to do is put your mind in the gutter)

It would also be weird if the Wachowski brothers (creators of The Matrix) wrote LotR. Whooa. . .

[ April 26, 2002: Message edited by: Nevfeniel ]

[dragongirlG]

Has anyone here read Faulkner's work? How 'bout him? He'd be God-awful hard to do.

[Lostgaeriel]

Sorry, I got no John Knowles, no Faulkner and no Wachowski brothers. Shakespeare is included in spirit in the parody of a Wayne & Shuster TV sketch, 'Rinse the Blood Off My Elf-Cloak' on thread page 2.

I do have this to add. (As usual, I need some serious help with Elvish translations.)

Out-takes and excerpts from The Lord of the Rings as directed by George Roy Hill & written by William Goldman (director & screenwriter, respectively, of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 1969)

Retitled Frodo (Butch) Baggins and the Samwise Kid

(Crossing the Silverlode on the rope bridge)
LEGOLAS: I can walk this path, but the others have not this skill. Must they swim?
THE SAMWISE KID: I can’t swim.
BUTCH BAGGINS: Why you crazy? The fall will probably kill you.

OR

(The Samwise Kid dives into the Anduin after Butch Baggins takes one of the boats to cross the river above Rauros.)
BUTCH BAGGINS: What’s the matter with you?
THE SAMWISE KID: I can’t swim.
BUTCH BAGGINS: Why you crazy? The Falls will probably kill you.

AND

(The Samwise Kid and Butch Baggins meeting Faramir and the Rangers of Ithilien)
BUTCH BAGGINS: (reading a slip of paper, in halting Sindarin) Til paur menel. (Put your hands up.)
THE SAMWISE KID: They’ve got them up.
BUTCH BAGGINS: (in halting Sindarin) Thanga galadhon. (Stand up against the trees.)
THE SAMWISE KID: They are up against the trees.
...
(upon arriving in Mordor)
BUTCH BAGGINS: You know, it could be worse. You get a lot more for your money in Mordor. I checked on it.
THE SAMWISE KID: What could they have here that you could possibly want to buy?
...
BUTCH BAGGINS: Jeesh, all Mordor can't look like this.
THE SAMWISE KID: How do you know? This might be the garden spot of the whole country. People may travel hundreds of miles just to get to this spot where we're standing now. This might be the Cerin Amroth of all Mordor for all you know.
BUTCH BAGGINS: Look, I know a lot more about Mordor than you know about Cerin Amroth.
THE SAMWISE KID: AHA! You do huh? I was born there; I was born in Lothlórien. Was brought up there, so...
BUTCH BAGGINS: You're from the Golden Wood? I didn't know that.
THE SAMWISE KID: The total tonnage of what you don't know is enough to shatter...
GOLLUM: I'm not sure we're accomplishing as much as we'd like here.
THE SAMWISE KID: (to Gollum) Listen, your job is to back me up, because you'd starve without me. (to Frodo) And you, your job is to shut up!
BUTCH BAGGINS: (to Gollum) He'll feel a lot better after he’s stolen a couple of Rings.
THE SAMWISE KID: Mordor! Ha-ha-ha-haa!
...
(Frodo & Sam crossing Gorgoroth, discussing orcs)
BUTCH BAGGINS: Ah, you're wasting your time. They can't track us over rocks.
THE SAMWISE KID: Tell them that.
BUTCH BAGGINS: (after looking for himself) Who are those guys?
...
BUTCH BAGGINS: How many of them are following us?
THE SAMWISE KID: All of them!
...
GOLLUM: (singing) The Road goes ever on and on / Down from the door where it began. / Now far ahead the Road has gone, / And I must follow, if I can, / Pursuing it with eager feet, / Until it joins some larger way / Where many paths...
BUTCH BAGGINS: (interrupting) I think they're in the trees up ahead.
THE SAMWISE KID: In the bushes on the left.
BUTCH BAGGINS: I'm telling you, they're in the trees up ahead.
THE SAMWISE KID: You take the trees; I'll take the bushes.
GOLLUM: Will you two beginners cut it out!
BUTCH BAGGINS: Well, we're just trying to spot an ambush, Mr. Gollum.
GOLLUM: Morons. I've got morons on my team. Nobody is going to rob us going up the Mountain. We have got no Ring going up the Mountain. When we have got the Ring, on the way back, then you can sweat.

[ April 30, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]

[Lostgaeriel]

By the way, you all know the other Newman & Redford movie directed by George Roy Hill, this time with screenplay by David S. Ward. It was obviously based on The Hobbit by JRRT - an elaborate con game designed to look like a treasure-seeking, dragon-slaying adventure but with the purpose of wresting the Ring from Gollum.

I'm talking about The Sting, of course! [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

[Luntindomeiel]

LOL!!!!!!

[Nevfeniel]

Ooh, even though no one ever answers these questions, how did you do that smiley thing with the stick-poking?

Lord of the Rings, by K.A. Applegate, author of Animorphs.

My name is Frodo.

Just Frodo. I can't tell you my last name, or where I am.

But I can tell you, my friends and I-- we're fighting for the survival of Middle-Earth.

You're probably thinking, yeah right. I know-- I probably would have said the same thing, back when I lived in my old, cozy hobbit-hole.

You see, we're the whole army, the nine of us. When it comes down to it, it's just us, alone, against Sauron's minions and all the evil in Middle-Earth.

I know, I know. Sounds like I'm crazy, right? Well it's all true.

This isn't your standard-type war. Because there's this ring, right? On its own, it's nothing. Just metal. A small, insignificant little ring. Harmless.

That's why it needs someone to be its host.

It can get inside your mind, seep into the crevices of your brain, see your every want and desire.

It will tap into that, and control you. Your every move will be dominated by the ring. It will own you. Completely. You will be a slave in your own mind.

The ring can control anyone. Anyone. It could be your best friend. Your mother. Your kindly old grandpa Bilbo.

For all we know, it could be you.

[greyhavener]

I love these. Austen and Twain were my favorites. And of course Monty Python. Here's my idea.

If Mel Brooks had written LOTR

Scene 140: Gift-giving in Lorien

Glad-gal shimmys over to Arrogant. "Maybe this will lighten your heart for it was left in my care to give to you"
She removes a forty pound silver brooch with two large prongs protruding straight out from her cape. As the cape falls away considerable cleavage is revealed.
Arrogant (leers into her bosum) "How about lightening it a little bit more."
Arrogant pins the brooch in the center of his chest, loses his balance and falls forward onto his face.

Glad-gal moves on to Boringmore, Nerdy and Drippin all of whom have mullet haircuts and presents them with western belts with ornate buckles about ten inches in diameter emblazoned with each of their names.

To Legless the elf she presents two prosthesis. Gimli clumsily tries to help him attach them to his stumps.

Glad-gal turns to Samwich who looks at her expectantly. "For you I have..."
She gazes around with frantically. She rushes over to a tree and picks up a box and hastily fills it with dirt.

Meanwhile Glumly has managed to get the legs on Legless backwards.
Legless takes two steps backwards and the legs fall off.
He picks one up and hits Glumly on the head.

Glad-gal straightens up and with much flourish she presents Samwich with the box.
"...a box of dirt!" she declares triumphantly.

She turns to Glumly. "Nothing for you...elves don't like dwarves."

Legless throws the other leg and knocks Glumly out.

Glad-gal turns to Frobro, a black hobbit with a gigantic afro.
"For you, I have prepared this phial" She hand him a small glass phial.
Frobro puts the phial into his hair where it disappears.
"I also packed lembas for you to eat on the way."
She hand Samwich a picnic basket covered with a red checkered tablecloth.

All the elves (about 50) begin doing the limbo singing "lembas, lembas, lembas, lembas"

Frobro bows to Glad-gal and several knives, a pipe, the phial, keys, a hair pick, and a condom fall out of his hair. He hastily picks it all up and puts it all back in where it disappears.

The company departs with Boringmore dragging an unconscious Glumly.

Legless follows several feet behind the rest with his legs attached but hinged somewhat sideways.

END OF SCENE

[Lostgaeriel]

LOL! [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]
Well done, greyhavener!
Robin Hood: Men in Tights, indeed! (I've never actually watched it.)
I luv Mel Brooks (but best of all when he worked with Gene Wilder).
Thanks!

[ May 04, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]

You ought to get a laugh out of this link. LotR, as an early black+white film: http://ringil.cis.ksu.edu/Tolkien/Movie/lotr.mov

And now, I know its been done, but I've had some of these ideas in my head for a while, so LotR by Mark Twain:

It was hot in those Cracks of Doom, powerful hot, the kind of hot that really gets to a body, and Sam found it mighty oppressive.
"Oh, Mistah Frodo, where are you?" he called out, his voice saying everything about how desperate he was. He couldn't hear Frodo for anything, but just then, he heard another familiar voice, crazy as a drunk bull.
"Precious! Precious, ah' say, precious!" It was Gollum, that damned fool of an injun, and Sam knew he was up to mischief of some awful kind.
Sam ran forward. He was scared, sure, he was powerful scared, but he didn't trust Injun Gollum one half as much as he could throw him, and the thought of losing Mr. Frodo and the Ring...after all, he'd promised Judge Gandalf and Senator Elrond to keep an eye on Frodo, and a promise is a promise, right?

Injun Gollum? Senator Elrond!? XD! Funny, funny.

Good to see a fellow Nazgûl here, my fiend! Even better, we both quoted the Witch-King in our sigs! Your quote was my second favorite thing said by him, by the way.

[Nevfeniel]

Shakespeare is included in spirit in the parody of a Wayne & Shuster TV sketch, 'Rinse the Blood Off My Elf-Cloak' on thread page 2.

Oops, I wasn't aware of that. sorry. . .

[Lostgaeriel]

Oh no, Nevfeniel, don't be sorry. We could use a version as if written by the Bard himself. I just thought if you were perusing and wanted to read one already posted that recalls Shakespeare you could read that one for now. (It's not very Shakespearean anymore - a parody of a parody. All it's got left is the plot of Julius Caesar - sort of.)

I didn't mean to be off-putting.

[Ithaeliel]

Wow...
You guys are really good at this! It's fun!
Out of all the ones I've read so far, I think the Pooh one is my favorite. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

By the way, it's the first time I've ever been to this one forum, so... to those who don't know me, hi!!!
I can't write like that, so I'll just sit here and read and enjoy. [img]smilies/tongue.gif[/img]

[Nar]

Sackville-Baggins (if Shakespeare had written it)

Dramatis Personae

Sackville-Baggins
Lady Sackville-Baggins

The three weird elves

Batchelor-Emiretus Bilbo of Bag End
Frodo, his heir

Act I, Scene 1: A barren heath. Sounds of triumphal looting and pillage are heard in the distance:
Glugging of ale, bad yet vigorous singing-- typical late-stage birthday party.
Enter three weird elves.
1 Elf When shall we elves meet again? In battle, banquet, or perchance second breakfast?
2 Elf You are really a hobbit!!
1 Elf I'm not! I'm an elf! Well, there may be a little Fallohide on my mother's side...
3 Elf To the point! Meetings! (evilly) When their corner-filling's done.
When the battle's lost and won.
2 Elf That will be ere the set of the sun.
1 Elf Where the place?
2 Elf Upon the heath.
All: There to meet with S-Baggins!
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air. (all run around in circles waving their arms)

Scene 2: The birthday-party, near the remaining casks of Ale
Frodo: This is the man, who like a good and hardy soldier, fought
'gainst my choking on that piece of cake. (indicates Sackville-Baggins)
Sackville-Baggins: (modestly) I call it the Sackville Maneuver. Here, let me demonstrate--
Bilbo: (hastily) NO! Hands! Off waist! Off! (Pushes Otho away)
'Tis quite all right, we'll take your word for it.
Frodo: Doubtful it stood, whether my spent lungs could expell yon lumpen cake,
when brave Otho (well he deserves that name)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandished fists,
like Valour's minion carved my passage!
Bilbo: O valiant cousin! Worthy gentleman!

Scene 3: The heath, sunset. Enter the three weird elves
All: The Weird Elves, hand in hand,
Grifters of the sea and land.
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And three rings we lifted at Harborside,
Then back again, to the Shire fine!
No way we take ship to the Boringest Lands!
(They wave Nenya, Vilya, and that other ring in the air)
1 Elf: But hist! Here comes the Sackville-Baggins!
(Sackville-Baggins comes nigh, sneezing into a large camberic hankerchief, as it is allergy season on the heath)

Sackville-Baggins: Spoons! Commemorative Spoons! Not even a full set--
I saw Bilbo putting aside the diamond jubilee double-sided grapefruit spoon
with her graciousness Queen Arwen molded on the handle in bas-relief!
Why, the collection is worthless without it!
(thoughtfully) So foul and fair a birthday-party I have not seen.
(notices the three; starts theatrically) Elves! Weird ones! Speak, if you can!
Mean you foul, or mean you fair? Say, would you like to purchase a lovely set of silver spoons?
3 Elf: All hail, Sackville-Baggins!
Hail to thee, Guardian of the silver spoons, albeit virtually worthless
without the silver jubilee yadda yadda Queen Arwen!
(Sackville-Baggins sadly stashes the oaken case of spoons back under his cloak)
2 Elf: All hail, Sackville-Baggins!
Hail to thee, formerly heir-presumptive of Bag End!
Sackville-Baggins: (Grumpily) I had not heard elves were so evil-spoken.
1 Elf: All hail, Sackville-Baggins, that shall live, as who should say,
A Bachelor-Emiretus in Bag-End forever!
Sackville-Baggins: What? And rid me of Lobelia? When! How?!
All: Away! Away! Away! (they begin to slink away)
Sackville-Baggins: Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Frodo's life I know I have the spoons,
By Bilbo's deed I know I am the former Baggins-presumptive of Bag-End.
(Aside: Sackville! Ackk! Lobelia!!! Who ever heard of a Hobbit with hyphens!)
But how a Bachelor-Emiretus? And how in Bag-End? And how forever?
All: (dancing in a circle) We have Rings of Three, but Ring of One there be,
Destroyed? We think not! Gollum's well known
Cliff climbing talent militates against it!
Hasty, hasty Hobbits not to check!
Clever, clever Otho here to quest!
All this can be! Fled to west, Bilbo could be,
Good heir Frodo seeks him at sea!
Lobelia, fading wraith of Hobbitry,
New-founded Queen of the Nazgul!
Otho, Otho, Otho of Bag End
Otho Baggins, Bachelor of Bag End!
Here, take it!
(1 Elf hands him the One Ring, which he has had concealed in his waistcoat pocket)
Sackville-Baggins: (staring from ring in his hand to 1 Elf and back again)
Don't you want it?
1 Elf: I already have Galadriel's ring. This one had begun to gall me.
(dramatic pause) Precioussss.
(looks blissfully at the gleaming white ring of the water fountains on his hand)
2 Elf: I knew you were really a hobbit!!!
Sackville-Baggins: (starting theatrically, clutching the One Ring to chest)
Can it be?
1 Elf: Yes, it is I, Gollum-Smeagol. Smeagol the magnificent!
King Smeagol, taker of fissh! With my ring of sparkling water,
I command the silver-slipping fissh from the brown-dappled brook.
Straight into Smeagol's clever fingers they come leaping!
Nice Fissh! Fisssh now; Fisssshhh every day, and keep nasssty taters!
Ha ha hahahaha! (darts off in the general direction of the Brandywine)

[Lostgaeriel]

Oooooh, Nar, it's brilliant!!! [img]smilies/cool.gif[/img]

[Birdland]

It is a tale told by a silly hobbit, full of sound and fury signifying preciousss little. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

Way to go, Nar!

[zifnab]

Hello, I’m Nigel Marvin your correspondent today for ‘Nigel’s Wild Wild World™’. And today we are really thick about it now, we are trying to bring in the notoriously deadly Nazgûl tonight. We are actually getting desperate today, the condition and the visible level was good yesterday, I don’t know what’s going on here. But we did not see one deadly Nazgûl. They’re actually being very allusive. But maybe with the help of our top cameramen, Hank Didntjaseeit, we will finally be able to film them.

We have brought in a ‘Nazgûl Expert’ to help us in the Myth of the creatures. And their favorite locations, foods, habits and activities and even some history. Meet Joe Snickeryberger, and even with all his help it, doesn’t seem to help much, since conditions are perfect and still no sign of the Nazgûl. We are actually filming in an area that is not highly populated, so that we can see the creature in all its glory and put on a ‘true’ performance.

I believe the natives of the area call it, Amon Sûl or WeatherTop. Which is located at the southern end of the Weather Hills. Joe tells us these are ancient hills that were once crowned with a huge tower that was built by one of the natives called Elendil. He says the Nazgûl are mostly ‘Night faring creatures’ about the shape of a man, but much more deadly. They stalk in packs, and appear to be on the Endangered Species List. If that’s good or bad, we don’t know for sure. Joe says their history dates back thousands of years, to a lunatic of a man that wanted ‘special pets’ he corrupted them in a way. Talk about a warped Dr. Moreau! That is if you believe ancient myth.

We should count are blessings. A few days before we came out here, October the 3rd, there was a freak natural occurrence that was pretty close to WeatherTop. It appeared that lightening was coming from the ground up. We only hope that it didn’t scare off the Nazgûl. That would really put a damper on our documentary. Are sponsors would have blown a gasket.

We will be right back though!

-break to commercial-

It is now October 6th, and its our second day of nothing. But are spirits have not failed us yet. Joe believes that the Nazgûl will be around here. The natives say ‘Black Creatures are following their prey’ around this area. So hopefully we didn’t lug out all this camera equipment for nothing. Were going to do a double check to make sure everything is set-up properly, since its mid-afternoon we don’t suspect we will see any Nazgûl.

-A few hours Pass, while the camera only records round after round of ‘Thumb-Wars’ between Joe and Nigel.-

Well, it’s Nigel again, and it appears that a few travelers have come this way, and heading up towards the Hill. A weather-beaten man, and four small children. The natives call these ‘Hobbits’. Joe thinks the name is translated to ‘Hairy footed short people’ in their native tongue. It appears they have made camp on the hill, and are telling campfire stories. While we do believe in ‘Invasion of Privacy’ we will not report back to you exactly what they’re talking about. They appear to be spooked though.

- The cold increases as darkness comes on. The sky above has cleared again and is slowly filling in with twinkling stars.-

-Silence-

- The waxing moon has climbed slowly above the hill that overshadowed them, and the stars above the hill-top faded-

Its me, Nigel, again. And I think we have something this time. If you look very closer, you will see 3 or 4 black shaped Men looking down on the travelers on the hill, just outside of the light of the fire. Even from here, we can tell their appearance is commanding and indeed scary. The sure do have the travelers spooked, that’s for sure! Whoa, what a minute! Can you hear that?

-Silence-

- A faint hiss as of venomous breath and a thin piercing chill is felt and heard throughout the area-

Yes, folks, Joe confirms that these are the deadly Nazgûl, and that their trademark ‘hiss, screech’ can not be mistaken. This is remarkable! On, no, wait right there. It appears the Nazgûl are approaching on the travelers. I take that back, there are five tall figures! Two standing on the lip of the dell, three advancing. I can almost make out their faces. Whoaaaa, it looks like on their white faces, their eyes burn with a inner fuel! Wait, here they come, they are springing on one of the Hobbits! Remember that we always let Nature take its course, it is not our place to interfere and disrupt the balance.

-You can hear Joe chant, ‘Go Hobbit Go’. And Nigel hitting him in the back of the head.-

It appears that the hobbit as disappeared! What a defence mechanism, it appears he can burrow. It doesn’t seem that the Nazgûl are tricked though! What, a minute, it appears it has worked. It seems the Nazgûl are retreating. Well, that was quite an experience. We have finally filmed the Nazgûl in their natural habitat. Isn’t that right Hank?

-Silence-

-Break too commercial-

[ May 09, 2002: Message edited by: zifnab ]

[Nar]

Zifnab, that was great! I think they got Hank! Would getting taken by a Nazgul qualify as interfering in the natural order of things?
Lostgaeriel, Birdland, thanks! Lostgaeriel, Rinse the Blood off my Elf-Cloak was great!

[ May 13, 2002: Message edited by: Nar ]

[Lostgaeriel]

Holy Zarqon! uh, no I mean Aina Elbereth! Someone liked Rinse the Blood Off My Elf-Cloak!!! Thanks Nar!

I was afraid no one would even read it 'cause it was so LONG. I'm so happy that someone enjoyed it - besides me! It took many, many long hours - even with a copy-and-pasted transcript of the original W&S sketch to work from! I can die happy now.

[ May 18, 2002: Message edited by: Lostgaeriel ]