Betty Smith was a typical, although above average attractive teenager. She had blue-grey eyes. Eyes which assumed the colour of unburnished steel when she was angry, blue in their default setting and sky blue like the sky when she was happy. And she was often happy as she was of a cheerful and loveable temperament. And when she was sad or pensive her eyes took upon a greenish tinge. Her lush hair hang in heavy strands down her back. Alas, her hair reached only the small of her back as she had caught lice at summer camp a few years back and it had not re-grown to its former glory. Nevertheless her glorious – if naturally light mousey - hair was dyed a rich strawberry-blonde with a titillating mix of exciting electric blue and green ends.
She was wearing her best My Sweet Pony top with straps as it was the "Support Rohirrims" week in her Is Eomer hawter than Leggy study group. It ended two inches above her shapely belly button adorned with a fashionable piercing sporting a tiny diamond. She had another like diamond in her nostril. Plain rings adorned her eyebrow, lip, and ears. Her perky breasts were so firm that she rarely bothered with a bra. She didn't wear one today either.
Apart from the tank top she was wearing a lavender coloured mini skirt and wedge sandals.
She appeared on a lawn and immediately knew where she was – Riverdale! And she could see the three bums of Hobbits eavesdropping on the Council. She saw the ugly stunty jump up and hit something – the Ring, she guessed – on a pedestal with an axe. He was cast back and landed on his back. She belly chuckled with feminine grace – the fugly had been a reliable comic relief throughout the movies.
Slithering through the grass like an indirect tax hike she neared the veranda where the meeting was taking place. She could now hear the voices but ... but ... it was gibberish! Where was the "You have my sword!" or "My bow!" or even "My axe"?! The actions she was witnessing made it clear that these were the words being uttered!
After Sam rushed in she decided it was time for her. The two runts could wait! She sprang from shrubbery and skipped like a gazelle into the veranda and melodiously explained – "I am coming too! You need me! I know everything!"
Everybody started shouting.
Who let the whore in?
Aragorn and Boromir pointed their swords at her. The hairball was waving an axe in her face and Leggy drew a knife! Some of the wash robe wearers were averting their eyes and Eyebrows with Circlet did a double face palm! What was going on! Then Rugged Outdoorsman wrapped her in his cloak – ahhh! – and ... and ... pushed her at some Figwits who led her outside.
Close to tears after being elf-handled and torn away from the sight of all those hawt! Elves she was led away and was subject to interrogation by a bunch of scruffy looking men. Some of them were even scruffier than Aragorn! They lashed at her in several tongues, evidently asking her about something. What a terrible misunderstanding! She had come to help! And she could not understand a word! The only consolation was still being wrapped in the Rugged Ranger's cloak.
Suddenly she heard a word she knew. She lifted her face to her interrogators and beaming with satisfaction that she finally understood something nodded vigorously – yes, she knew the word "orc"! To her horror the men's faces changed from inquisitive or angry to that of utmost disgust. One looked as if he was going to hurl.
- I told you that the whore fucks orcs! Look at the ring in the nose! And those rings in the lip, and ears and ... and I don't dare look elsewhere, it's not decent!
- The elves want her out, and out she goes to where she belongs. You two take her to the Titillating Teat inn and leave her there. That's where she probably crawled out from anyway ...