The Fanfiction Testament

Zaza: Is it even possible for your brain to grin? Heh, maybe it is and I just didn't know it. ;)

Eileen: Thanks! Hope you continue to enjoy. :)

sylphxpression: Aye, the Lord spare us from badly-written self-inserts indeed!

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The League of Under-Represented Characters is looking to raise money for its continuance. If you would like to support the League, please inform the President of the society, Gildor Inglorion of Forgotten Origin.

Oh, and Figwit does not fall under the mighty protection of the League of Under-Represented Characters, because this League was established for neglected book characters only. Apologies to Figwit fans!

Thank you all very much for reading and reviewing! Reviews usually motivate me to update faster. That, and the fact that I have a cold *sniffle* so I've had the time to write another chapter. Lots of random misquotations of the Bible! So, without further ado, please enjoy!

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From The Book of Randomness, Chapter Whatever

Oh, how blessed is the one who doth write using correct grammar and spelling! For what doth it profit a man/woman (yea, political correctness) if their story is of epic proportions, yet they cannot spell to save their lives? Or what doth it profit a man/woman if their story maketh no sense whatsoever, due to a sad lack of grammar?

For if I have not grammar, I have nothing. If thy fellow readers canst not glean anything intelligent from thy writings, thou shalt be flamed.

And if thou look'st on the Elf of Great Hotness (the Mis-Represented One, or any of the Under-Represented Ones), and thine eye scandalise thee, pluck it out. For it is better for thee to write fanfiction half-blind than half-witted.

Remember thou the words of Elrond the Lord of Imladris: "Not all they that cry, 'Ada, Father,' are entitled to join the Fellowship."

Now a Holy War doth rage in the fandom, between Fans of the Nine and Fans of the Ten, between Concritters and Flamers, between Leggites and Glorfindelites, between Those Who Can Spell and Those Who Can't.

Now the Purists and Conservative Tolkien Canon Preservationists are at variance with the Suethors, a division of the Leggites. For verily, in their ignorance the Suethors thinketh that Legolas doth not mind being relentlessly pursued by the mindless female multitudes. Yet the Purists saith unto them, "Think thou not that Legolas is a deviant who liketh teenage females! For nowhere in the Sacred Appendices does it say that he doth this."

But the Suethors heedeth them not. And the Suethors are mainly of the Movie Lovers, but othersome are from the Book Geeks, and othersome know nothing of either.

And there are the Slashers, for the Purists and Canon Preservationists maintain that looking feminine doth not purport bizarre slashy relationships, and many Suethors desire the Elf of Great Hotness for themselves, being unwilling to give him up to Aragorn, or Haldir, or Gimli.

A badly-written slash fic is like unto a blunt pencil – it hath no point of which to speak. Besides which, it may afflict thy readers with an issue of blood from the eyes. Brethren, I exhort you to aim for tastefulness in all things.

A badly-written Suefic is like unto a man/woman who upon reading doth want to rend his/her garb and seek psychiatric help. If thou must entertain pervy desires, perv eloquently. For that is what the Fanfiction Writers strive for, squeeing with eloquence.

Now Elrond seeing this saith unto the Writers, "Fine, thou canst squee, but not so loudly that the Fellowship and thy readers must get hearing aids after the experience."

And Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, did proclaim unto the multitudes that Legolas wouldst now be under the mighty protection of the Spiders. Who, spake Thranduil, wouldst accordingly devour any fangirl who in her insolence didst take it upon herself to violate the Restraining Order.

And Legolas rejoiced, saying: "Now I shall no longer have an entourage of mad fangirls who doth follow me even unto the toilet!"

And Elrond, raising one Eyebrow of Doom, didst allow himself a slight grin before saying: "Yea, but thou hast forgotten that now thou hast an entourage of Spiders." And Legolas wept.

Yet the rest of the Fellowship was content, even when the Writers do stray from the Path of Truth, for each was issued with a Spider, and the fangirls stayed away, and Middle-Earth was restored to relative peace and calm.

Or so they wished.

Wherefore I say unto you: Despair not, for hope is kindled – for the Writers, and even for the Lord of Oxford, who may at last be able to rest in peace.

And Mandos did lift his head up in hope, and saith unto Tolkien, his head-bashing buddy: "Hear ye this? Thou shalt rest in peace, with no more to trouble me or thee."

And Tolkien rolleth his eyes and saith, "Yeah, right."

The End

*Winces* I think I might have to finish it there - hey! *ducks flying copy of The Silmarillion* Unless I get a sudden inspiration, of course. *ducks random missiles*

I am eternally grateful to everyone who has read this and reviewed. Thank you to everyone who has given me ideas or simply left a comment – I really appreciate it!

Questions? Comments? Insults? Please leave a review!