THE CHRONICLES OF MODERN CONVENIENCES
Chronicle I (1) (One) (Uno) (Un)
The war was not uncommon. Orcs swarmed the castle; hobbits, elves and dwarves fought aside each other; the women of Mordor, Gondor or Elfangor - I can never remember which - played poker as they hid out with the children, and somewhere a dog barked in the distance. I'd say that sounds pretty average, but I'm the one making this up, here. Anyway, nobody wants to hear about the scenery; all you have to know is that this was the battle and our heroes were fighting gallantly against the Orcs.
Aragorn, for instance, was in fierce battle with one ugly beast of a Sauron-wannabe(ASTERISK). Of course Strider was kicking the crap out of the Orc, who had run out of ammunition and was busy breathing against the wall like an asthmatic with his mouth to a voice warper set on extra high-pitch.
(ASTERISK)Earlier, Sauron had learned to communicate with his followers by way of morse code by dilating and undulating his eye. He had posted notes on every bulletin concerning follower expectations and had categorized each Orc under the classification of Sauron-wannabe, Grunting Warrior, or Scum.
As Aragorn continued his beating, the Orc somehow was able to slip past him, roll like Lara Croft, then snatch up a dropped sword. The fight continued, but was interrupted by a tiny, consistent ringing. The Orc stared quizzically at Aragorn. Aragorn licked his lips in embarrassment and gave an apologetic half smile.
"I have to take this," he said, setting his own sword on the ground and fumbling in his pocket for his cell phone. It continued to ring and it took him a second to flip the little window up and press the call button. "Yeah?" he asked. The Orc merely blinked at him. Aragorn continued to talk. "Yes, I have it. Don't worry, I'm fine. No, this isn't a good time, I'm fighting. Yes. Yes…"
The Orc sighed and began to tap his foot on the ground, impatiently. As he did so, a line of goo that was connected to his foot, stuck to the ground and was strung up every time he lifted his slimy toes, and squelched on the ground each time he set them down again.
"No, I didn't. Because I forgot! I'm sorry. Okay. Okay! All right."
"Are you quite finished?" the Orc asked, interrupting Aragorn's conversation.
"Just a minute," Aragorn said to the caller. He put his hand over the receiver and said; "This may take a while. It's my mum. You might want to go find yourself another fighting partner." With that, he put the phone back to his ear and continued talking.
"You freaking suck," the Orc growled, and with a stomp of his foot, taking care to pull the string of goo off first, he stormed out of the room to go find himself someone else to try to kill.