Ok, All. I'm totally bored, it's a Sunday afternoon, I go on holiday in
three days, and I have absolutely NOTHING to do, so I'm going to write a
very, very, very, very, VERY silly fanfiction.
Disclaimer: I haven't decided what this story is actually going to be yet,
so this is just a general disclaimer saying I own absolutely diddly. Oh
except the spelling mistakes and bad grammer - theyre all mine. MINE I
TELL YOU, MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ahem. Ok, on with the story.
OK, I'm totally in love with Legolas/Orlando Bloom, so lets start with that shall we?
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, during the third age of Jack Russels, there was a strange grey void where nothing existed. The malevolent force, know as 'The Author' clicked her fingers, and Orlando Bloom appeared, with a squeaky pop, that sounded just like hydrogen, but the Author had gone to therapy over this and no longer constantly said 'Just like hydrogen!' every single time she did it.
And, as she was making this story very silly and stupid, she proceeded to dress Orli in the Legolas costume, and implanted Legolas's personality onto his brain.
And, as that is not quite silly and stupid enough for her, she magically changed Legolas's personality to that of a sixteen-year old female All American Teen Cheerleader. Satisfied, for the moment, she blew out the smoke puffing from her witchy pointing finger.
"Huh?!?" Legolas looked bewildered, but oh so cute with it! "What, like, is, like, going, like, on? OMG, like, I, like, can't, like, stop, like, saying, like, like, like!! AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like."
The Author cackled. She'd left just enough memory so he would remember his life from before. But, as Legolas curled up on the fllor in a foetal position, wimpering and muttering "Like" every few seconds, she decided suicidal tendancies were not good for her beloved hot elf dude.
She clicked her fingers and his memory was gone. There was a squeaky pop. "Just like hy. . . NO!!! Must. . . curb. . . irrational. . . love of. . . that. . . sentence!!!"
After gulping down her happy pills and her special water, the Author was more or less sa. . . No. Not sane. Shall we just say 'vaguely functional' ?
Ok. Once more bored, the Author decided to transport the rest of the Fellowship into the grey void. This was starting to turn into a story that would quite easily fit into her 'writer's block' series, and she mite as well make it fit into her 'insane asylum' series she was starting. And she also realised it was half six in the evening but it only felt like half four, and she couldn't wait to buy her own laptop this xmas, so she wouldn't hav to use the family computer in her brothers room to write all her stooooooopid fanfic.
OK. Now constantly starting all paragraphs with 'ok' but that's betta than 'just like hydrogen'. Ok. So. The grey vopid became an insane asylum and she didn't mean vopid she meant void. A nice WHITE insane asylum with pretty pictures done by the people who lived ther, all nice big purple splashes with red polka dots. She made sure there were noone else actually there, because otherwise they would try to lock her up.
Ok. Every member of the fellowship had there own room, but, for the moment, they were all sitting in the main 'Group Fun' area. Woohoo.
Gimli was in a straight jacket because his insaneness made him believe he was a Moulin Rouge dancer, and her kept trying to do his hair like Christina Aguilara.
Pippin had been eating marshmallows with the Author and now they were both homicidally hyper.
Merry was twirling about in his pink ballerina costume, claiming he was the next Baryshnikov, and no one had the heart to tell him that male ballet dancers don't wear tutus. Or tampons attached to there ears.
Aragorn thought he was a laywer, and was stalking around everywhere in a long black coat and a powdered wig, but that was ok, because he could apologiase for everytime the author overstepped the bounds.
Aragorn broke in, putting on his posh, important voice. "My client wishes me to say that she means no offence by any of her statements, and, if ne one DOES take offence, please flame and order her to shove the rating up. She will, because she has a soft spot for kids, and does not wish to traumatise them TOO early on. That is all."
Gandalf was pretending he was Jerry Springer, and bounded up to his make- believe camera and screamed "Hi folks!!! And today, our topic is - Fanfiction authors who just can't seem to finish off their fanfictions!"
The Author's voice broke in over the chaos. "Wow. That actually gives me an idea. Never mind. Lets attempt to bring some semblance of a story into this randomness, eh? For now, anyway. Be afraid. Be very afraid. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!!!! Jerry Springer stories, hear I come!!!!! Ahem. But, back to our original story."
So. Where had we got to? Lessee now. We've done Aragorn. Gimli. Gandalf. Merry. Pippin. Ok. That leaves Sam, Frodo, Legolas, Boromir and Bill the Pony. I might add in some other characters to I'm not sure. Ok. Going to post this fic now, because it is time for tea. Back soon!
Well, actually, no, wont be back for ages, cos on holiday. Never mind.
BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ahem. Ok, on with the story.
OK, I'm totally in love with Legolas/Orlando Bloom, so lets start with that shall we?
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, during the third age of Jack Russels, there was a strange grey void where nothing existed. The malevolent force, know as 'The Author' clicked her fingers, and Orlando Bloom appeared, with a squeaky pop, that sounded just like hydrogen, but the Author had gone to therapy over this and no longer constantly said 'Just like hydrogen!' every single time she did it.
And, as she was making this story very silly and stupid, she proceeded to dress Orli in the Legolas costume, and implanted Legolas's personality onto his brain.
And, as that is not quite silly and stupid enough for her, she magically changed Legolas's personality to that of a sixteen-year old female All American Teen Cheerleader. Satisfied, for the moment, she blew out the smoke puffing from her witchy pointing finger.
"Huh?!?" Legolas looked bewildered, but oh so cute with it! "What, like, is, like, going, like, on? OMG, like, I, like, can't, like, stop, like, saying, like, like, like!! AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like."
The Author cackled. She'd left just enough memory so he would remember his life from before. But, as Legolas curled up on the fllor in a foetal position, wimpering and muttering "Like" every few seconds, she decided suicidal tendancies were not good for her beloved hot elf dude.
She clicked her fingers and his memory was gone. There was a squeaky pop. "Just like hy. . . NO!!! Must. . . curb. . . irrational. . . love of. . . that. . . sentence!!!"
After gulping down her happy pills and her special water, the Author was more or less sa. . . No. Not sane. Shall we just say 'vaguely functional' ?
Ok. Once more bored, the Author decided to transport the rest of the Fellowship into the grey void. This was starting to turn into a story that would quite easily fit into her 'writer's block' series, and she mite as well make it fit into her 'insane asylum' series she was starting. And she also realised it was half six in the evening but it only felt like half four, and she couldn't wait to buy her own laptop this xmas, so she wouldn't hav to use the family computer in her brothers room to write all her stooooooopid fanfic.
OK. Now constantly starting all paragraphs with 'ok' but that's betta than 'just like hydrogen'. Ok. So. The grey vopid became an insane asylum and she didn't mean vopid she meant void. A nice WHITE insane asylum with pretty pictures done by the people who lived ther, all nice big purple splashes with red polka dots. She made sure there were noone else actually there, because otherwise they would try to lock her up.
Ok. Every member of the fellowship had there own room, but, for the moment, they were all sitting in the main 'Group Fun' area. Woohoo.
Gimli was in a straight jacket because his insaneness made him believe he was a Moulin Rouge dancer, and her kept trying to do his hair like Christina Aguilara.
Pippin had been eating marshmallows with the Author and now they were both homicidally hyper.
Merry was twirling about in his pink ballerina costume, claiming he was the next Baryshnikov, and no one had the heart to tell him that male ballet dancers don't wear tutus. Or tampons attached to there ears.
Aragorn thought he was a laywer, and was stalking around everywhere in a long black coat and a powdered wig, but that was ok, because he could apologiase for everytime the author overstepped the bounds.
Aragorn broke in, putting on his posh, important voice. "My client wishes me to say that she means no offence by any of her statements, and, if ne one DOES take offence, please flame and order her to shove the rating up. She will, because she has a soft spot for kids, and does not wish to traumatise them TOO early on. That is all."
Gandalf was pretending he was Jerry Springer, and bounded up to his make- believe camera and screamed "Hi folks!!! And today, our topic is - Fanfiction authors who just can't seem to finish off their fanfictions!"
The Author's voice broke in over the chaos. "Wow. That actually gives me an idea. Never mind. Lets attempt to bring some semblance of a story into this randomness, eh? For now, anyway. Be afraid. Be very afraid. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!!!! Jerry Springer stories, hear I come!!!!! Ahem. But, back to our original story."
So. Where had we got to? Lessee now. We've done Aragorn. Gimli. Gandalf. Merry. Pippin. Ok. That leaves Sam, Frodo, Legolas, Boromir and Bill the Pony. I might add in some other characters to I'm not sure. Ok. Going to post this fic now, because it is time for tea. Back soon!
Well, actually, no, wont be back for ages, cos on holiday. Never mind.
BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!