Maglor the Mighty's Diary

Middle of Nowhere, ME Year XXXX

Dear Diary,

Maglor son of Feanor woke up this morning before sunrise for the 300000th time in his elven lifespan. No breakfast on the table, no hot water in the bath, and a houseful of litters from the three pathetic slobs residing with him. Maglor tried to be dutiful to his care. He picked up the sprawling litter, which composed of leftover food bits, crumpling papers depicting fleshy females in questionable poses, broken teeth from hair combs, bloody bandages.to name a few. Relentlessly, Maglor cooked breakfast, scrubbed the floor, wiped the windows, dusted the ceiling and organized the living room in two hours, plus stepping on a thing casually strewn on the floor that look like Elros, he almost tripped.

Brother rang the bell for his breakfast. Maglor brought breakfast up in a tray to Maedhros' room. Maedhros announced he's too traumatized by the lost of his right hand and Fingon's death to steer out of his bed. Maglor the nice brother has to bring him three meals a day to his room, and excused him from all housekeeping activities.

After Maedhros ate, Maglor went to rouse Elrond and Elros for breakfast. Elros criticized the meager presence of proteins. Elrond began his silent rebellion for the day. After breakfast, Maglor composed his 1000 version of Noldolante, Maglor still not happy with the final stanza.

When Maglor was done with his new piece, he went to the drawing room to sew a robe. As he advanced to the armoire where his Feanor & Sons Inc. sewing kit with 'Love Silmarils' sticker is stored, he saw this scribbled on the wall:

"Kinslayer"

Maglor sighed. Maglor sprayed 'Orange Clean' on the wall to wipe off the graffiti.

Maglor cooked lunch. Maglor baked cookies. Maglor cleaned up more. Maglor cooked dinner. Maglor cleaned up again...Maglor went to bed.

Yours,

Maglor the Mighty, Son of Feanor

Riverside, Unknown, Year XXXX

Dear Diary,

Maglor son of Feanor woke up this morning before sunrise for the 300005th time in his elven lifespan. Maglor dressed very quickly for the market. Maglor came back with cartload of food enough to feed 20 dwarves. Maglor very tired.

Maglor went in the house, and almost had a heart attack when he saw the chaos. Elros was watching mortal copulation in the Discovery X Channel. He got chips everywhere, on himself, the couch, table. Maglor was overwhelmed that Elros cracked the parental block code. There were graffiti galore on the walls, phrases from "Silmaril freaks" to "Feanor is a dwarf" appeared in the forms of Cirth, Feanorian scripts, Rumil scripts, displaying the talent of the instigator.

Maglor chided Elros on his abhorrence of housekeeping. Elros gave Maglor a proud look, saying he is honoring his mortal heritage by imitating his mortal male ancestors. To emphasize his point, Elro belched, and scratched his nether region in satisfaction.

Maglor turned to Elrond to recruit him in ordering the house, but Elrond gave him a surly look. Elrond refused on the principle of not aiding his enemies. Maglor sighed; he is very tired.

Maedhros rang the bell for his breakfast. Maglor ran up to Maedhros' room to bring him his breakfast. Maedhros lectured Maglor on the tardiness of breakfast. Maglor is very, very tired.

Maglor came down to the living room, and saw the house in a worse condition. Trash of every imagination was camping on all furniture surfaces and the floor. Elros was toilet papering the window. Elrond ran out of spaces to write his curses on the wall, so he scribbled on the tablecloth instead. Maglor saw a colossal clean up he need to do with no help, and he is very, very, very tired.

Maglor got mad! Maglor has to wipe everyone's behind every day, and no one appreciates him! No one lift a finger to help him or ask him how is his day, thank you very much.

Maglor screamed at his foster children for laziness until the chandelier fell crashing down. Maglor then bang the front door and walked out. Let them manage their own breakfasts, lunches, afternoon snacks, dinners, desserts and fresh laundry!

Yours,

Maglor the Vexed, Son of Feanor

Middle of Nowhere, ME Year XXXX

Dear Diary,

Maglor son of Feanor woke up this morning before sunrise for the 300006th time in his elven lifespan, except Maglor woke up at the riverside shivering. Maglor hope he didn't catch a flu.

Maglor decided to go back to check on his charge. Surprisingly, the state of the house was much improved from yesterday. Maglor could tell inexperienced hands were trying to return the house to its pristine state. The tablecloth was cleaned, but it was not properly starched.

Elros and Elrond look contrite. Elros mentioned food apprehensively. He had not had a meal since Maglor left because he was helpless in the kitchen like his mortal male ancestor. For all his clever learnings, Elrond almost burned his sleeve when he turned on the stove. Maglor fixed them a quick meal. Elros sobbed gratefully.

Maedhros was oblivious to Maglor's walkout. He finally came out of his room to fish for food. Maedhros was devouring the sponge cake like a dwarf with his ale while fighting Elros for grilled chicken crumbs. Maglor sighed. Everything is back to normal.

Maglor look around the house and think. Maglor has to keep cleaning everyday with his lousy foster kids slouching around generating messes, and his ungrateful brother ordering him every possible minute. Maglor is very tired of his lifestyle. Maglor is under-appreciated.

Maglor went to his brother and smiled. Maglor told brother of a rumor he heard while camping on the riverside, that Eonwe's snobby hands have the Silmarils.

Revenge.

Yours,

Maglor the Fatigued, Son of Feanor