A Really Weird, Pointless L.O.T.R. Story
Chapter One:
In Which The Author Rambles A Lot At The Beginning
Disclaimer: If I owned L.OT.R. I'd own the world too. I don't own the world. Figure it out yourself.
WARNING! WARNING! THIS STORY HAS NO PLOT!!!
The Fellowship was on vacation. They were wasting time some sandy beach somewhere, and if there aren't any sandy beaches in Middle-Earth, too bad. There's one now. And I lied. This story does have a plot. I just haven't thought of it yet. Anyway, the Fellowship was wasting time. I mean, you really couldn't blame them. The ring was destroyed, Sauron was kinda obliterated, and they felt they deserved a break. Key word: THEY felt. Apparently, Elrond did not. That's why they were on some desolate, deserted beach hundreds of miles from civilization. Well, maybe not hundreds, but still, it's close enough. ANYWAY…
"I'm bored!" complained Pippin.
"Well," said Merry cheerfully, "At least you aren't hungry!"
"I suppose you're right…" replied Pippin thoughtfully.
"Next time…we get a beach…AWAY from all… the fangirls!" yelled Legolas breathlessly, as he ran over a conveniently placed sand dune.
"Did you get away?" asked Aragorn, trying to look concerned (he was dreaming about Arwen again).
"Barely! They almost got me," the elf replied with a shudder.
"See?" said Gimli triumphantly. "There's an advantage to being an unliked character!" Legolas said nothing.
"Anybody have sun screen? I think I'm getting sunburnt." commented Frodo.
"There should be some in that bag over there." replied Gandalf, waving his hand vaguely.
"Okay…" said Frodo, as he walked off in the direction of the bag.
"Watch out for Fangirls!" called Legolas, shuddering again. Frodo came back in a few moments holding a bottle of sunscreen. He was about to take off his shirt so he could put some on (how he got sunburnt with a shirt on is beyond ME), when he was suddenly struck by a horrible thought.
"Legolas?" he asked nervously.
"Yeah? What?" asked the elf, who was busy trying to tan himself.
"Are there any…you know…FANGIRLS…around here?"
"Uhhh…yeah…but I don't know where they are…"replied Legolas, suddenly looking apprehensive.
"Hey Gandalf?" the elf called.
"What?"
"Can we uh…leave? This 'deserted' beach is populated by fangirls."
"I don't know. Ask the author."
*Suddenly the Fellowship is transported to a grassy meadow, hundreds of miles from any fangirl*
"Ah." said the elf happily. "That's better." The Fellowship lapsed into temporary silence, disrupted only by Aragorn, who was talking in his daydreams.
"Ahhh…Arwen…so…beautiful…ravishing…vibrant…ah…love her…so pretty…" mumbled Aragorn. The rest of the group sniggered.
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Okay, this is perhaps the worst piece of crap I've ever written. Let's spice things up a bit…
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*Out of nowhere, somehow in a human shape, lands………..(drumroll)…SAURON!!*
"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE????" demanded the Dark Lord, to no one in particular.
"What the hell ARE you doing here?" asked Gandalf.
"WELL, If I KNEW, I wouldn't have asked!" Sauron snapped back.
"Well, the loss of the Ring has made him harmless, so he can't really do any harm." declared Aragorn, unaware of the fact that he had repeated himself. Sauron started crying.
"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Sauron." said Sam.
"I," announced Aragorn, "have an idea!"
"Everybody, this is a historical moment! Aragorn has an idea!" cried Gimli. Aragorn glared.
"I think that, because we have nothing better to do, and poor Sauron is heartbroken, we should become…THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE REPUTATION! Our quest will be to help all poor souls (Legolas: Like you?) who have crummy reputations and a horrid social status! We shall start with Gimli and Sauron!"
Chapter One:
In Which The Author Rambles A Lot At The Beginning
Disclaimer: If I owned L.OT.R. I'd own the world too. I don't own the world. Figure it out yourself.
WARNING! WARNING! THIS STORY HAS NO PLOT!!!
The Fellowship was on vacation. They were wasting time some sandy beach somewhere, and if there aren't any sandy beaches in Middle-Earth, too bad. There's one now. And I lied. This story does have a plot. I just haven't thought of it yet. Anyway, the Fellowship was wasting time. I mean, you really couldn't blame them. The ring was destroyed, Sauron was kinda obliterated, and they felt they deserved a break. Key word: THEY felt. Apparently, Elrond did not. That's why they were on some desolate, deserted beach hundreds of miles from civilization. Well, maybe not hundreds, but still, it's close enough. ANYWAY…
"I'm bored!" complained Pippin.
"Well," said Merry cheerfully, "At least you aren't hungry!"
"I suppose you're right…" replied Pippin thoughtfully.
"Next time…we get a beach…AWAY from all… the fangirls!" yelled Legolas breathlessly, as he ran over a conveniently placed sand dune.
"Did you get away?" asked Aragorn, trying to look concerned (he was dreaming about Arwen again).
"Barely! They almost got me," the elf replied with a shudder.
"See?" said Gimli triumphantly. "There's an advantage to being an unliked character!" Legolas said nothing.
"Anybody have sun screen? I think I'm getting sunburnt." commented Frodo.
"There should be some in that bag over there." replied Gandalf, waving his hand vaguely.
"Okay…" said Frodo, as he walked off in the direction of the bag.
"Watch out for Fangirls!" called Legolas, shuddering again. Frodo came back in a few moments holding a bottle of sunscreen. He was about to take off his shirt so he could put some on (how he got sunburnt with a shirt on is beyond ME), when he was suddenly struck by a horrible thought.
"Legolas?" he asked nervously.
"Yeah? What?" asked the elf, who was busy trying to tan himself.
"Are there any…you know…FANGIRLS…around here?"
"Uhhh…yeah…but I don't know where they are…"replied Legolas, suddenly looking apprehensive.
"Hey Gandalf?" the elf called.
"What?"
"Can we uh…leave? This 'deserted' beach is populated by fangirls."
"I don't know. Ask the author."
*Suddenly the Fellowship is transported to a grassy meadow, hundreds of miles from any fangirl*
"Ah." said the elf happily. "That's better." The Fellowship lapsed into temporary silence, disrupted only by Aragorn, who was talking in his daydreams.
"Ahhh…Arwen…so…beautiful…ravishing…vibrant…ah…love her…so pretty…" mumbled Aragorn. The rest of the group sniggered.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
Okay, this is perhaps the worst piece of crap I've ever written. Let's spice things up a bit…
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------
*Out of nowhere, somehow in a human shape, lands………..(drumroll)…SAURON!!*
"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE????" demanded the Dark Lord, to no one in particular.
"What the hell ARE you doing here?" asked Gandalf.
"WELL, If I KNEW, I wouldn't have asked!" Sauron snapped back.
"Well, the loss of the Ring has made him harmless, so he can't really do any harm." declared Aragorn, unaware of the fact that he had repeated himself. Sauron started crying.
"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Sauron." said Sam.
"I," announced Aragorn, "have an idea!"
"Everybody, this is a historical moment! Aragorn has an idea!" cried Gimli. Aragorn glared.
"I think that, because we have nothing better to do, and poor Sauron is heartbroken, we should become…THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE REPUTATION! Our quest will be to help all poor souls (Legolas: Like you?) who have crummy reputations and a horrid social status! We shall start with Gimli and Sauron!"