It was just another day for Legolas Greenleaf. Lounging idly in a fifty-foot ash tree, the elf-prince hummed as he sang himself a song. However, unlike most of his elfin brethren, he had not the gift of enchanting rhyme-schemes:
Through mists of time, now far away
Within fairest Mirkwood
There lived a maid with hair like hay
Who didn't bathe when she should.
Ehrbal was named this elf so rank
Of the house of Aissance, the Clean
Though none would say, she really stank
From here to Dwimorden.
"What shall I do?" Aissance did moan
"My daughter is rich and fair
Yet she will never change her robe
Nor even scrub her hair.
"I cannot hope to find a male
For Ehrbal the Yucky
With dirt are caked her fingernails
Her shoes, with dung and mucky."
Then rose up Mashi, tall and strong
Epitome of cleanliness
"I'll woo your maiden with my song
And help her change this mess."
"Indeed, you go now to your death."
Aissance replied in turn
"One smell of her garbage-can breath
And your scrubbed clothes shall burn."
"I fear not death." Mashi replied
"I fear not smell nor stink
I fear not bugs that from her fall
When she skates at the rink."
Then swift he went to Ehrbal's hall
Where the rancid elf did sit
Among embroidered, soundproof walls
Next to a privy pit.
"Greetings, fair maid," Mashi then said
"I come to gaze upon your face
That you may tell me, from your head
Of your- ::coughcoughcough:: grace."
"Grace have I none," Ehrbal replied
"But I have what no maid can give
A bounteous tribe of lice reside
Within my corsets live.
"My hair is caked, my skin is gray
I have much putrid scent
You can smell me a mile away
My back with dirt is bent.
"Things are growing 'tween my toes
Horses may gasp and die
You would need some sturdy hoes
To excavate my boogered eyes.
"Hobbits could burrow in the dirt
That gathers 'round my throne
Gollum lurks around my skirt
It's like the muck of Gollum's home.
Earwigs make themselves at rest
My face within grime mask is set
Ecolog'cally I am the best
No elf-maid's like to me, I bet."
Gasping, Mashi dropped his lute
Next boat caught to the Havens Grey
While Ehrbal, scratching at her snoot
Did utter: "Make my day!"
"GET DOWN HERE, YOU SPOONY ELF!" Galadriel thundered from the foot of the tree. Unlike most beautiful women, she could really crank up the volume when she wanted to. And she wanted to. Hoo boy, was she pissed.
"Eeep!" Legolas scurried down the tree, and stood cringing in front of the Lady of the Wood. "Y-yes, O Fair and Wondrous, Beautiful Lady Gala-"
"CAN IT!"
It was just another day for Legolas Greenleaf. Scrubbing hard at a persistent stain in one of the Lady's white gowns- as he had been for the past month- the elf-prince sighed and questioned the value of songmaking. Sure, it was fun, but the Lady would kill you if she caught you talking about the family skeleton.
Through mists of time, now far away
Within fairest Mirkwood
There lived a maid with hair like hay
Who didn't bathe when she should.
Ehrbal was named this elf so rank
Of the house of Aissance, the Clean
Though none would say, she really stank
From here to Dwimorden.
"What shall I do?" Aissance did moan
"My daughter is rich and fair
Yet she will never change her robe
Nor even scrub her hair.
"I cannot hope to find a male
For Ehrbal the Yucky
With dirt are caked her fingernails
Her shoes, with dung and mucky."
Then rose up Mashi, tall and strong
Epitome of cleanliness
"I'll woo your maiden with my song
And help her change this mess."
"Indeed, you go now to your death."
Aissance replied in turn
"One smell of her garbage-can breath
And your scrubbed clothes shall burn."
"I fear not death." Mashi replied
"I fear not smell nor stink
I fear not bugs that from her fall
When she skates at the rink."
Then swift he went to Ehrbal's hall
Where the rancid elf did sit
Among embroidered, soundproof walls
Next to a privy pit.
"Greetings, fair maid," Mashi then said
"I come to gaze upon your face
That you may tell me, from your head
Of your- ::coughcoughcough:: grace."
"Grace have I none," Ehrbal replied
"But I have what no maid can give
A bounteous tribe of lice reside
Within my corsets live.
"My hair is caked, my skin is gray
I have much putrid scent
You can smell me a mile away
My back with dirt is bent.
"Things are growing 'tween my toes
Horses may gasp and die
You would need some sturdy hoes
To excavate my boogered eyes.
"Hobbits could burrow in the dirt
That gathers 'round my throne
Gollum lurks around my skirt
It's like the muck of Gollum's home.
Earwigs make themselves at rest
My face within grime mask is set
Ecolog'cally I am the best
No elf-maid's like to me, I bet."
Gasping, Mashi dropped his lute
Next boat caught to the Havens Grey
While Ehrbal, scratching at her snoot
Did utter: "Make my day!"
"GET DOWN HERE, YOU SPOONY ELF!" Galadriel thundered from the foot of the tree. Unlike most beautiful women, she could really crank up the volume when she wanted to. And she wanted to. Hoo boy, was she pissed.
"Eeep!" Legolas scurried down the tree, and stood cringing in front of the Lady of the Wood. "Y-yes, O Fair and Wondrous, Beautiful Lady Gala-"
"CAN IT!"
It was just another day for Legolas Greenleaf. Scrubbing hard at a persistent stain in one of the Lady's white gowns- as he had been for the past month- the elf-prince sighed and questioned the value of songmaking. Sure, it was fun, but the Lady would kill you if she caught you talking about the family skeleton.
