LOTR FAN FIC
THE JOLLY RINGWRAITH
*****CHAPTER 1*****
The hobbits were doing their usual four-innocent-scared-hobbits-warding-off-evil-things. They had become good at it, seeing
as they'd had so much practise from evil things attacking Frodo. Suddenly, Frodo sensed something moving in the shadows. From
out of the gloom emerged a cloaked figure - a ringwraith. It moved to lift its hood, as if preparing to do something, something
dramatic. As the ringwraith approached, the hobbits could sense a change in the atmosphere and mood, but they couldn't quite
put their finger on what it had changed to. It was different, unexpected, unlike anything these ringwraiths had expressed before.
It affected the very air they were breathing. Then the ringwraith spoke.
"What ho, Frodo my lad?! And greetings to you all!"
"Wait a minute," interrupted Pippin, "aren't you the fabled Jolly Ringwraith?"
"Here in person, old boy!"
"But I thought you were just something people talked about in pubs and sang awful songs about," said Sam, looking confused.
"I didn't think dead kings would be jolly, seeing as how they're dead and all."
"Well, that's just something the writer of this hasn't thought of," observed Merry.
"Quite right there, old sport! Well, sorry to break up this jolly fascinating conversation, chaps, but I've got to kill Frodo
here. Jolly sorry 'bout this, but Sauron was rather persistant about that ring of yours. Bally nice chap, really. Pity about
the evil tendencies and all that."
"Ok," replied Frodo, "you lot go over there whilst the Jolly Ringwraith kills me. Oh, and Merry, make sure you restrain Sam
so he doesn't take the blow for me."
"Got it" replied Merry.
Suddenly the mood darkened. All was silent, except for the occasional "Jolly exciting this, eh, pip pip!" from the Jolly
Ringwraith. The dead king drew his sword. Frodo cowered back against the wall, feeling that if he was going to die he might
as well do it properly, and prepared to give a nice, dramatic scream. The ringwraith struck.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAgh!" yelled Frodo high-pitchedly.
"Oh, fiddlesticks." exclaimed the Jolly Ringwraith, "I bally missed! Awfully sorry, Frodo old chap, but you've now got a deadly
wound from which you will never recover, even though Strider's going to whisk you off to see the elves where you will be saved.
Jolly nice chaps, the elves."
"How did you know that?" the hobbits asked.
"Well, it's not exactly bally hard, is it chaps?"
"Point."
"Well, must dash - Sauron does get very upset when he's kept waiting. He is rather over possessive about this ring if you ask
me. Frightfully sorry about the whole attempted murder, Frodo old boy."
"Don't mention it," gasped Frodo.
Everyone waved goodbye to the nice ringwraith.
"Frodo, are you ok?" asked Sam, concerned.
"Ok? Of course I'm not ok! My shriek wasn't anywhere near dramatic or high-pitched enough. Oh yeah, and I've been mortally
wounded."
THE JOLLY RINGWRAITH
*****CHAPTER 1*****
The hobbits were doing their usual four-innocent-scared-hobbits-warding-off-evil-things. They had become good at it, seeing
as they'd had so much practise from evil things attacking Frodo. Suddenly, Frodo sensed something moving in the shadows. From
out of the gloom emerged a cloaked figure - a ringwraith. It moved to lift its hood, as if preparing to do something, something
dramatic. As the ringwraith approached, the hobbits could sense a change in the atmosphere and mood, but they couldn't quite
put their finger on what it had changed to. It was different, unexpected, unlike anything these ringwraiths had expressed before.
It affected the very air they were breathing. Then the ringwraith spoke.
"What ho, Frodo my lad?! And greetings to you all!"
"Wait a minute," interrupted Pippin, "aren't you the fabled Jolly Ringwraith?"
"Here in person, old boy!"
"But I thought you were just something people talked about in pubs and sang awful songs about," said Sam, looking confused.
"I didn't think dead kings would be jolly, seeing as how they're dead and all."
"Well, that's just something the writer of this hasn't thought of," observed Merry.
"Quite right there, old sport! Well, sorry to break up this jolly fascinating conversation, chaps, but I've got to kill Frodo
here. Jolly sorry 'bout this, but Sauron was rather persistant about that ring of yours. Bally nice chap, really. Pity about
the evil tendencies and all that."
"Ok," replied Frodo, "you lot go over there whilst the Jolly Ringwraith kills me. Oh, and Merry, make sure you restrain Sam
so he doesn't take the blow for me."
"Got it" replied Merry.
Suddenly the mood darkened. All was silent, except for the occasional "Jolly exciting this, eh, pip pip!" from the Jolly
Ringwraith. The dead king drew his sword. Frodo cowered back against the wall, feeling that if he was going to die he might
as well do it properly, and prepared to give a nice, dramatic scream. The ringwraith struck.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAgh!" yelled Frodo high-pitchedly.
"Oh, fiddlesticks." exclaimed the Jolly Ringwraith, "I bally missed! Awfully sorry, Frodo old chap, but you've now got a deadly
wound from which you will never recover, even though Strider's going to whisk you off to see the elves where you will be saved.
Jolly nice chaps, the elves."
"How did you know that?" the hobbits asked.
"Well, it's not exactly bally hard, is it chaps?"
"Point."
"Well, must dash - Sauron does get very upset when he's kept waiting. He is rather over possessive about this ring if you ask
me. Frightfully sorry about the whole attempted murder, Frodo old boy."
"Don't mention it," gasped Frodo.
Everyone waved goodbye to the nice ringwraith.
"Frodo, are you ok?" asked Sam, concerned.
"Ok? Of course I'm not ok! My shriek wasn't anywhere near dramatic or high-pitched enough. Oh yeah, and I've been mortally
wounded."