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NOTES: First of all, the "fish tackle" gag is the property of Ash's real- life counterpart, whose name I am still reluctant to mention here (why, I do not know). So all the credit goes to him… I just couldn't resist using it, what with them being on the Anduin and all. ALSO: The song Sam sings is from Brigadoon, a ridiculously sappy musical, the chorus of which I am currently a part of. Hence the inclusion of it in this chapter… which, incidentally, was written during a rehearsal.
Once again, I'd like to thank Lady Serpentine for reviewing this little piece of inanity. Yes, inanity. Serpentine, this is for you: qwertyuiop[]asdfghjkl;'zxcvbnm,./. Enyoy.
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For many days they were swept along by the swift current of the river Aduin. Sam was systematically divested of his various floatation devices as his companions sought new objects with which to test their recently acquired mini-catapult. They intended to use the contraption to throw random objects at Gollum, who kept on sneaking up behind their boats and attaching his water-ski line. Secretly, though, Matagood hoped he would be able to use it to launch Mag into oblivion, as he had been unfortunate enough to receive her as his boating partner.
"Oh, look, there's a set of large, rutabaga-flavoured dice lying at the bottom of the river bed," he said nonchalantly, glancing over the side of the boat.
"Really? Ah-zah! Mag's eatin' tonight! I – hey, wait a minute… I'm not falling for THAT one, El Ranger-o," said Mag, pointing at him and squinting in an attempted glare.
"[Aside] Damn. She did every OTHER goddamn time."
"Good point."
"Hey," Matagood protested, "that was an 'aside'. You're not supposed to respond to it, f*cko!"
"Is there any way you could curb your homicidal tendencies for even a few christly hours? We've already had to turn around and fish Mag out of the River three times!" growled Scimli, shaking her fist at the unnecessarily cynical King-to-be.
"And I'm not sure Sam appreciated us painting dots on him and using him as 'fish' tackle," Frodo added, glancing over at his companion, who was sitting stock-still in the middle of the boat humming various showtunes.
"Speaking of which," said Ash, and he proceeded to scoop a fair-sized trout out of the water and throw it at Magnolia's head.
"Con-sarnit, Ash! What in the name of Sam Raimi was THAT for?" she yelled, nearly overbalancing and toppling into the water.
"It was…" he paused for forty-two minutes of excessive dramatic effect, "… A FISH TACKLE!! AHAHAHAHA! A-HARHARHARHAR!! GET IT? CAN YOU *FEEL* THE HILARITY?!"
"Good Lord, the boy's out of his nut," observed Muldolas, aghast.
"Ash, you've… you've…" stammered Frodo, slightly more aghast.
"HE'S PULLED A 'MAG'!" shouted Matagood, frantically removing fistfuls of hair from his own scalp, "AN EVERF*CKING MAG!!!"
"I'm so proud," said Mag, sniffling pointedly.
"Kill me please, o merciful block-dealie," Ash begged Pickledgingermir, who merely stared back in his own state of extreme aghastness.
"…onnce inn the highlaaaands, the hiiiighlands of Scotlaaa-aand…" sang Sam quietly, now rocking slowly back and forth in time to the music.
"It's okay, Sam. You're going to be o-kay," Frodo murmured soothingly, "just… calm down a little, maybe. You can do it, I know you can. Be the ball, Sam. Be the ball."
"… when twooooo weary hunterrrr – well, would you look at that," said Sam, snapping out of his one-man musical and looking strangely at his own hands.
"What is it, Sam?" asked Frodo.
"Well master, it appears as if I've turned into a giant ball."
"…"
"Mr. Frodo, sir?"
"Oh, look, Sam. There's an amiable wood-nelf sitting in the cup of that mini-catapult over yonder," said Frodo, rubbing distractedly at his temples.
"Nelves? Oh, master, I'd dearly love to see NELVES," sighed Sam, ignoring the fact that he'd spent the last several irrational plot-twists with Muldolas, not to mention that lovable, cross-dressing "Galadrielrond".
As Sam set foot inside the unreasonably large catapult-cup, Frodo took the liberty of setting it off, intending to launch the hobbit into oblivion. Instead, their crippling inability to follow instructions lead them to build the contraptions somewhat… backwards. Thus, as Frodo depressed the unnecessarily large "toss" button, Sam was thrown backwards into him, and together they went flying off the back end of their boat. Gollum, meanwhile, had succeeded in his task during their extended bickering, and was now happily water-skiing behind. That is, until Frodo and Sam came barrelling into him, and before they knew it they had established a fairly impressive three-person reverse pyramid, with Sméagol supporting a hobbit on each shoulder.
"Get offss us!" yelled Gollum, wobbling beneath even their meager weight.
"Why I aughta – AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" Sam screamed, leaving his sentence frustratingly incomplete.
"Yous aughta 'AAA'? Hobbitses makes no sensse, they doesn't," said Gollum, scratching his head in obvious confusion.
"BIG GIANT WATERFALL DEALIE!" Sam continued, his eyes bugging out comically.
"Ah," said Gollum.
NOTES: First of all, the "fish tackle" gag is the property of Ash's real- life counterpart, whose name I am still reluctant to mention here (why, I do not know). So all the credit goes to him… I just couldn't resist using it, what with them being on the Anduin and all. ALSO: The song Sam sings is from Brigadoon, a ridiculously sappy musical, the chorus of which I am currently a part of. Hence the inclusion of it in this chapter… which, incidentally, was written during a rehearsal.
Once again, I'd like to thank Lady Serpentine for reviewing this little piece of inanity. Yes, inanity. Serpentine, this is for you: qwertyuiop[]asdfghjkl;'zxcvbnm,./. Enyoy.
============================================================================
For many days they were swept along by the swift current of the river Aduin. Sam was systematically divested of his various floatation devices as his companions sought new objects with which to test their recently acquired mini-catapult. They intended to use the contraption to throw random objects at Gollum, who kept on sneaking up behind their boats and attaching his water-ski line. Secretly, though, Matagood hoped he would be able to use it to launch Mag into oblivion, as he had been unfortunate enough to receive her as his boating partner.
"Oh, look, there's a set of large, rutabaga-flavoured dice lying at the bottom of the river bed," he said nonchalantly, glancing over the side of the boat.
"Really? Ah-zah! Mag's eatin' tonight! I – hey, wait a minute… I'm not falling for THAT one, El Ranger-o," said Mag, pointing at him and squinting in an attempted glare.
"[Aside] Damn. She did every OTHER goddamn time."
"Good point."
"Hey," Matagood protested, "that was an 'aside'. You're not supposed to respond to it, f*cko!"
"Is there any way you could curb your homicidal tendencies for even a few christly hours? We've already had to turn around and fish Mag out of the River three times!" growled Scimli, shaking her fist at the unnecessarily cynical King-to-be.
"And I'm not sure Sam appreciated us painting dots on him and using him as 'fish' tackle," Frodo added, glancing over at his companion, who was sitting stock-still in the middle of the boat humming various showtunes.
"Speaking of which," said Ash, and he proceeded to scoop a fair-sized trout out of the water and throw it at Magnolia's head.
"Con-sarnit, Ash! What in the name of Sam Raimi was THAT for?" she yelled, nearly overbalancing and toppling into the water.
"It was…" he paused for forty-two minutes of excessive dramatic effect, "… A FISH TACKLE!! AHAHAHAHA! A-HARHARHARHAR!! GET IT? CAN YOU *FEEL* THE HILARITY?!"
"Good Lord, the boy's out of his nut," observed Muldolas, aghast.
"Ash, you've… you've…" stammered Frodo, slightly more aghast.
"HE'S PULLED A 'MAG'!" shouted Matagood, frantically removing fistfuls of hair from his own scalp, "AN EVERF*CKING MAG!!!"
"I'm so proud," said Mag, sniffling pointedly.
"Kill me please, o merciful block-dealie," Ash begged Pickledgingermir, who merely stared back in his own state of extreme aghastness.
"…onnce inn the highlaaaands, the hiiiighlands of Scotlaaa-aand…" sang Sam quietly, now rocking slowly back and forth in time to the music.
"It's okay, Sam. You're going to be o-kay," Frodo murmured soothingly, "just… calm down a little, maybe. You can do it, I know you can. Be the ball, Sam. Be the ball."
"… when twooooo weary hunterrrr – well, would you look at that," said Sam, snapping out of his one-man musical and looking strangely at his own hands.
"What is it, Sam?" asked Frodo.
"Well master, it appears as if I've turned into a giant ball."
"…"
"Mr. Frodo, sir?"
"Oh, look, Sam. There's an amiable wood-nelf sitting in the cup of that mini-catapult over yonder," said Frodo, rubbing distractedly at his temples.
"Nelves? Oh, master, I'd dearly love to see NELVES," sighed Sam, ignoring the fact that he'd spent the last several irrational plot-twists with Muldolas, not to mention that lovable, cross-dressing "Galadrielrond".
As Sam set foot inside the unreasonably large catapult-cup, Frodo took the liberty of setting it off, intending to launch the hobbit into oblivion. Instead, their crippling inability to follow instructions lead them to build the contraptions somewhat… backwards. Thus, as Frodo depressed the unnecessarily large "toss" button, Sam was thrown backwards into him, and together they went flying off the back end of their boat. Gollum, meanwhile, had succeeded in his task during their extended bickering, and was now happily water-skiing behind. That is, until Frodo and Sam came barrelling into him, and before they knew it they had established a fairly impressive three-person reverse pyramid, with Sméagol supporting a hobbit on each shoulder.
"Get offss us!" yelled Gollum, wobbling beneath even their meager weight.
"Why I aughta – AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" Sam screamed, leaving his sentence frustratingly incomplete.
"Yous aughta 'AAA'? Hobbitses makes no sensse, they doesn't," said Gollum, scratching his head in obvious confusion.
"BIG GIANT WATERFALL DEALIE!" Sam continued, his eyes bugging out comically.
"Ah," said Gollum.