A/N: Hello and welcome readers to the slightly improved version of DOTTP (just default chapter and chapter 1 improved, If you like this and want to read anymore please check out the other DOTTP story, I have so far reached chapter 13. :)
This story does not belong to any genre in particular. It is, as the title suggests, a rip off of all the fanfics that cause pain to the 'purist' readers. For example: no serious plot, multiple fictional characters added in here and there, mythical creatures of every kind imaginable (whether they are in the book or a different one) no perception of distance or time and the many many more. In this story I shall endeavour to included all of the above, the many many more, and worst of all ...Caitlin and Kaitin!
Disclaimer: Don't own anything!
The intro scene setter thingImagine, a world soon to be at war, a world suffering evil that needs to be extinguish with more then just a bucket of sand or water. Imagine, the evils 2 year old girl child toddling around a dark room within the safe gaze of her warm caring nanny, Nazgul number 1, or as you and I know him, the witch king. Stop imagining, it's real, and this little girl is the only child of Souron.
The screen zooms in on the small round face of Kaitlin, knocks into her hard on the forehead, and zooms out a little. Kaitlin lifts her pudgy hand to her head and screws up her eyes. The eyes water, and she lets out a squeaky howl and runs over to her nanny for a cuddle. The nanny looks around the room with confusion.
500 miles away, the 12th and youngest daughter of the good, is burning ants with a small shard of glass, (grabbed from the cracked camera screen. "Why the little vandal! that's my camera!") although only a toddler. She is Caitlin, the daughter of the elven lord Elroond, and is already nearly taller then him.
Screen zooms in on Caitlin, Elroond walks into the frame tutting at his large daughter. He prizes the shard of glass out of his daughter's hand, Caitlin screams with annoyance, then thumps her father back out of the frame, there is a pained groan in the background. (Super nanny where are you?)
This is the story of those two children, switched at birth by a careless hoddit nurse.
Death of the Tolkien PuristChapter 1 CAITLIN (13 years later)
'Dad! Give it back!' Caitlin whined, and soon began chasing her father with an imp powered chain saw. 'That's my thing!'
'No it's not, this thing belongs to Froodoo!' Panted the tall (yet smaller then his daughter) Elf lord Elroond at a fast trot.
'No it's my thing!'
'No it's not dear,'
'Yes it is, that thing belongs to me,'
'Ok,' Lord Elroond surname Spooon, stopped and straightened his glassless glasses, 'what does this thing do?'
'Ur, It turns people invisible when they put it on.'
'Put it on? Put It On! How can you put a thing on? It does stuff, Okay? and it is not yours. So nar!' Elroond turned and sprinted off into the distance. His grey floppy toupe (with accent) flopping with each nobly stride.
'Ooh I'm going to pound the living daylights out of him when he is senile!' Caitlin sat down heavily on the grass, at the age of 600 000 her father still was too fast for her. It was his nobly kees.
She was six foot 5 and had small horns protruding from either side of her head, just above her ears. Her long light brown hair curled slightly at the bottom, (it always did that when it rained) and her green eyes (that were outlined in heavy black eye liner) flashed an angry red. The youngest and tallest of her 12 sisters, and, 14 brothers, she was surprisingly not mentally damaged, which was usually the scenario for the youngest of an army of heavily doped up and disturbed siblings, in fact, it was the other way round. Her oldest sister Arwen thought herself to be a marshmellow, her twin brothers Aladin and Alrohoy had been missing for a few years until they were found disguised as unicorns in the local forest, Marwen, Darwen and Karwen's ears had dropped off for no apparent reason, the list was endless. Caitlin was thought to be linked with these happenings, as before she had been 'born', the Spooons had been one big happy family.
She really did have it hard; her only enjoyment in being in this Manicly happy place was beating up its Manickly happy habitants. She couldn't even do that any more, on every door in the whole of Rivendale, were security bars, made out of Mithroll. The chamber of her Mother and Father even had it, since she was 4 when she pretended to have a nightmare so as to be allowed in. Once she had tried to pop out her Mother's eyeballs with a spoon, and succeeded, it had been locked off from her forever. 'It's a good thing Elves can grow new eyeballs little missy,' stated Elroond to his daughter, shortly after the accident/experiment, 'if she had been a hooman, she would be blind!'
Caitlin thumped the tree next to her, it shook. Why hadn't she tried to pull out the teeth! Her intentions were never bad, until now, at the age of 15, she felt like killing everyone around her with the very imp powered chainsaw in her hand. The chainsaw's humming slowed, then stopped, the blades slowed, then stopped.
'Oh bugger.' Caitlin muttered, then started fiddling around her long black, Gothic over coat. The saw had run out of imp, really, she must stop being so careless, leaving it running like that. 'ahh.' She unzipped a moving packet, and pulled out a handful of squealing, little imps, then promptly stuffed them into the small box like compartment on the side of the saw. She closed the lid, in a matter of seconds (after the small screams had subsided) there was a faint frying smell. Imp powered chainsaws had been band for years; luckily; Caitlin had found this antique one in the local museum.
She had made a few alterations since then, for one thing, it had been band because the imps often died of exhaustion from pushing the wheels round and round, now, they died from being dosed in petrol from sprinklers above, then set alight. The heat from the burning imps boiled the water that created the steam that powered the wheel that made the sharp bits turn.
Kill everyone around her? Hmmm. Her thin scarlet lips curled into a smile. One of those smiles those bad guys do in movies, when the camera zooms in on them just before they shoot the head off the good guy. She quickly turned off the 2-foot long chainsaw, and tried to hide it behind her back.
In that 13 years, Caitlin had lost her puppy fat (pity, she always liked sumo wrestling with the other children, which leads onto another story of one of her unfortunate siblings.(Let's just say she sumo sat on her over a drain grid…nasty…plastic surgery would not have sorted that one out.)) She was now very tall and slim, and Gothic. She never went outside without putting Fairy paste on, so she kept her porcelain complexion, porcelain. She had tried to dye her hair black to add to the look, but her horns got in the way so she gave up.
Caitlin walked slowly but briskly up to the centre of Rivendale; there on a platform was the bell (which you could only ring if there was danger about, it gathered everyone to that area fast) she took one high heeled boot step up on to the raised platform.
'Here it goes.' Her long fingers closed around the dangling rope thing you pull to ring the bell. She rang the bell, then screamed so as to get their attention.
'Help me! Oh help me!' Immediately a rush of Elves swarmed out of all their warm cosy little homes, like ants. They stopped suddenly, and there were a few over dramatic gasps heard from in amongst the crowd. Caitlin grinned, like a mad person, or someone who likes inflicting pain… or death on people.. (don't you just love the metaphors…). Then she puled the chainsaw from behind her back and it started with a hrm hrrm hrrrmmmmmmm.
'Help me!' she squealed again, 'I'm going to Kill you all aha aha aha.'
A/N Next chapter is from the view of Kaitlin. Want to read any more? Read the chapter again, or you could read the not new and improved DOTTP. Do you like? I had to re-do these first 2 as they were a bit jumbled. Check out the other story, there's 13 chapters of this! YAY!
