So there's this stiff called Boromir…
So the Fellowship sailed along the river and Aragorn got very excited pointing out statues of his relatives.
"There's Umbledygook, and Imglingit, and great aunty Mabel…"
"Wow." Said the cynical and jaded Frodo, sarcastically.
Soon they arrived at a river bank and got off the dinky little boats. Frodo wandered off by himself, which was a stupid thing to do, because Boromir followed him and began to menace him again about his ring.
"Give me your ring, Frodo."
"No!" Cried the hobbit, sitting down firmly on a log.
"Gimme, you little git!"
"No!"
"Come on, you bugger!"
"No!"
"Please?"
"No."
"I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
"Ah, go on."
"No."
"Ah, you will."
"No."
"Ah, go on." Said Boromir, turning into Mrs. Doyle*. "Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on…"
"Fuck off!" Cried Frodo eventually in despair. "It's my ring and I'm taking it to Mordor to have it destroyed, so there, and sucks to you and your Oedipus complex."
"Right then!" Cried Boromir, towering over the hobbit. "I'm going to kick your miniature ass into next week, you little bastard."
"Like to see you try!" Said Frodo and regretted it, for Boromir was a big hard bastard and Frodo but a little hobbit. Boromir threw himself at Frodo (oo-er) and missed…because Frodo had PUT ON THE EVIL NASTY RING! (Gasp) Boromir whimpered in bewilderment and stumbled about being thick; Frodo, invisible, kicked him viciously in the bollocks, the little git, and Boromir collapsed, sniffling. Frodo ran off in a state of shock.
"Frodo, come back…I'm sorry, I'll take my medication, it won't happen again…" sobbed Boromir, blowing his nose on a strawberry flavoured condom.
Meanwhile the rest of the Fellowship sat around a fire on the riverbank, playing 'snap'.
"Wonder where Frodo's got to." Remarked Aragorn idly.
"Do you think he's all right, Strider?" Asked Sam in slashy concern. Aragorn frowned broodingly.
"Stop calling me Strider, you little prat, I'm a king."
"Well, I'm going to find poor Mr. Frodo." Said Sam decisively, and ran off.
"I suppose we'd better help." Said Gimli.
"But I'm curling my hair!" Wailed Legolas. The others ignored him and headed off towards the Big Scary Forest With Bits of Stone Head Everywhere. They ran into Boromir who was lying on the ground clutching his wounded bollocks.
"Well?" Said Aragorn, sounding like a schoolmaster.
"Had a row with the little guy." Said Boromir, sniffling. "He kicked me in the bollocks and ran off."
"D'oh!" Said Aragorn. "We'd better find him." Aragorn did of course find him, lurking by the riverbank.
"I'm going to Mordor on my own." Said Frodo. "You lot of bastards can't be trusted." Aragorn, being kingly and all that, wasn't offended. In fact he was rather pleased that he didn't have to go to Mordor, which sounded evil and nasty, a bit like the sea front at Morecambe in the middle of winter.
"You're right. But look at it from Boromir's point of view: first he gets an inferior part which means being killed off in the first movie, then he goes mad and gets booed by the audience, then he gets kicked in the bollocks…he's had a hard time of it really."
"He's had a hard time! What about me? I go from being sweet and innocent and happy with my big eyes to being jaded and cynical and depressed all the time…and then what? What do I get at the end of it, Aragorn? I've read the book you know…I'm going to end up in Eastbourne!"
"At least you get paid for all three movies."
"That's hardly the point…well maybe it is…anyway at least you don't have to do slashy bits with other hobbits!"
"No, I get to do slashy bits with Boromir."
"Hmph. Maybe you do have a bit of a raw deal at that. But we're getting beside the point, which is: I'm going to Morecambe – I mean Mordor – by myself, on my own, to destroy this dratted ring!"
"Ok." Said Aragorn, which was a bit of an anti-climax. He gave Frodo a bit of paper with a mobile number scrawled on it. "If you get into trouble, you know who to call..."
"Thanks." Said Frodo, touched.
"…Legolas." Finished Aragorn. Well, bye then."
Heading back to the Scary Forest, Aragorn spotted Boromir having a bit of a kip against a tree; getting closer he realised that his fellow hard bastard wasn't sleeping at all but was punctured with many arrows. Aragorn was distraught – why, he had missed the most exciting battle of the film! He knelt beside Boromir.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a bloody great pin cushion." The mighty warrior groaned.
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry!"
"Don't worry." Comforted Aragorn. "I'm sure a beautiful woman is around somewhere to nurse you back to health, shag you and then die or run off with someone of higher birth" **
"No…" Boromir was now trying all out for the Oscar, knowing this was his last chance. "Leave it. It is over."
"Fuck me! That was almost a line from the film!" Exclaimed Aragorn.
"Barely. Anyway, where was I?" A young girl ran in with a script.
"Ok, ok…here we are…make a depressing speech about how orcs ran off with the other hobbits." She ran off again.
"That was Mary-Sue, the prompt." Said Aragorn. Boromir took a breath and prepared his death-speech.
"The orcs ran off with Pippin and Merry." He said. "It's so depressing."
"Oh dear. Not your fault, pet."
"Thanks. But anyway…I have to die now. Right, here goes, should be worth a BAFTA at least…" the set became very quiet. Aragorn bowed his head sadly and took Boromir's hand.
"I would have followed you," whispered Boromir. "My brother…my captain…my…"
And his mobile went off.
"Shit!" Exclaimed Boromir. "There goes the Golden Globe at any rate."
"To be fair you hadn't got much chance anyway."
"Says you."
"Gentlemen, please!" Cried Mary-Sue. "The rest of the film's an anti- climax, we have to make this bit good. Ok, go again."
This time the death speech was successfully accomplished, though Boromir twitched slightly when Aragorn kissed him full on the lips.
"No, no!" Mary-Sue complained. "On the forehead, Aragorn, this isn't that type of movie!"
"Sorry."
At this point Legolas and Gimli turned up, where they fuck had they been?"
"Problems?" Asked Gimli.
"Boromir's dead."
"No I'm not."
"Shut up."
"Ooh, nice one, Boromir." Exclaimed the elf, leaning forward to pluck out an arrow from the fallen warrior's lifeless body. "I was just running out."
"You haven't shot anything in the entire parody, you nancy git." Said Gimli.
"Don't forget I'll be shagging you later." Retorted Legolas, and Gimli grimaced.
Boromir then departed to the Green Room where Gandalf the Gay was waiting for him. Mary-Sue put a dressing-gown around Boromir's shoulders.
"How was I, Gandy?" He cried.
"Wonderful, darling! Absolutely wonderful! It'll be theatre next…Shakespeare…" he draped an arm around Boromir's shoulders as they walked off together.
"You'd make a wonderful Macbeth," Gandalf continued, "I should know, I've played him myself…I'll put in a word for you with the RSC…"
Meanwhile some of the rest of the cast were still acting. Frodo was pushing off a boat into the river, on his way to Mordor, when Sam ran up behind him and started to shout slashy things in his yokel accent.
"I'm coming with you!"
"What?"
"I'm coming with you!"
"Say again? I can't hear you over the sound effects!"
"Oh for Christ's sake…" Sam jumped into the water, almost drowning, in an attempt to make the ending seem like less of an anti-climax. Frodo pulled him out though. He gets to be in the next film. The hobbits had some touching slashy moments in the boat, which Mary-Sue curtailed for fear of raising the film's rating to a twelve (or PG-13 which I assume is the US equivalent) and losing money.
"I'm coming." Said Sam.
"That's quite enough of that!" Cried Mary-Sue.
"I meant, I'm coming to Mordor, Mr. Frodo. You'll need someone to give you piggy back rides after all."
"Aw." Said Frodo. "How sweet. I'm glad you're with me, Sam." And on this slashy note, the film abruptly ended, leaving audience members in a state of bewildered expectancy.
*A/N for the uninitiated: Mrs. Doyle = priest's housekeeper in Irish TV show 'Father Ted.' She continually offers people cups of tea and when they refuse…
"Ah, go on. Ah, you will. Ah, go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on…" and she does. Go on, that is. Very funny, if you haven't seen it and you're not easily offended by blasphemy give it a try.
** A/N C.F. the excellent TV series 'Sharpe' (based on Bernard Cornwell's historical novels), starring Sean Bean. Swashbuckling Richard Sharpe spends most of his time killing French soldiers, shagging and getting 'mortally' wounded, then nursed back to health by random mute women (that's life eh?).
A/N Well! So ends the first part of the parody! Will Frodo and Sam get to Mordor? Will Boromir get his Oscar? Will Gandalf? Will Frodo become attached to his ring, or throw it into the flames? Does anyone care? Does anyone want me to continue this? I'll happily cover the next two books, this is fun! (manic grin)
Final A/N This is dedicated to Spike Milligan, King of Parody Writing! If you haven't read his versions of Lady Chatterly's Lover, Hound of the Baskervilles, Frankenstein and The Bible…well, you really really should.
Feedback please!!!! ( Hated it, liked it? Am I a dodgy bugger? Shall I write some more?
So the Fellowship sailed along the river and Aragorn got very excited pointing out statues of his relatives.
"There's Umbledygook, and Imglingit, and great aunty Mabel…"
"Wow." Said the cynical and jaded Frodo, sarcastically.
Soon they arrived at a river bank and got off the dinky little boats. Frodo wandered off by himself, which was a stupid thing to do, because Boromir followed him and began to menace him again about his ring.
"Give me your ring, Frodo."
"No!" Cried the hobbit, sitting down firmly on a log.
"Gimme, you little git!"
"No!"
"Come on, you bugger!"
"No!"
"Please?"
"No."
"I'll be your friend."
"Go away."
"Ah, go on."
"No."
"Ah, you will."
"No."
"Ah, go on." Said Boromir, turning into Mrs. Doyle*. "Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on…"
"Fuck off!" Cried Frodo eventually in despair. "It's my ring and I'm taking it to Mordor to have it destroyed, so there, and sucks to you and your Oedipus complex."
"Right then!" Cried Boromir, towering over the hobbit. "I'm going to kick your miniature ass into next week, you little bastard."
"Like to see you try!" Said Frodo and regretted it, for Boromir was a big hard bastard and Frodo but a little hobbit. Boromir threw himself at Frodo (oo-er) and missed…because Frodo had PUT ON THE EVIL NASTY RING! (Gasp) Boromir whimpered in bewilderment and stumbled about being thick; Frodo, invisible, kicked him viciously in the bollocks, the little git, and Boromir collapsed, sniffling. Frodo ran off in a state of shock.
"Frodo, come back…I'm sorry, I'll take my medication, it won't happen again…" sobbed Boromir, blowing his nose on a strawberry flavoured condom.
Meanwhile the rest of the Fellowship sat around a fire on the riverbank, playing 'snap'.
"Wonder where Frodo's got to." Remarked Aragorn idly.
"Do you think he's all right, Strider?" Asked Sam in slashy concern. Aragorn frowned broodingly.
"Stop calling me Strider, you little prat, I'm a king."
"Well, I'm going to find poor Mr. Frodo." Said Sam decisively, and ran off.
"I suppose we'd better help." Said Gimli.
"But I'm curling my hair!" Wailed Legolas. The others ignored him and headed off towards the Big Scary Forest With Bits of Stone Head Everywhere. They ran into Boromir who was lying on the ground clutching his wounded bollocks.
"Well?" Said Aragorn, sounding like a schoolmaster.
"Had a row with the little guy." Said Boromir, sniffling. "He kicked me in the bollocks and ran off."
"D'oh!" Said Aragorn. "We'd better find him." Aragorn did of course find him, lurking by the riverbank.
"I'm going to Mordor on my own." Said Frodo. "You lot of bastards can't be trusted." Aragorn, being kingly and all that, wasn't offended. In fact he was rather pleased that he didn't have to go to Mordor, which sounded evil and nasty, a bit like the sea front at Morecambe in the middle of winter.
"You're right. But look at it from Boromir's point of view: first he gets an inferior part which means being killed off in the first movie, then he goes mad and gets booed by the audience, then he gets kicked in the bollocks…he's had a hard time of it really."
"He's had a hard time! What about me? I go from being sweet and innocent and happy with my big eyes to being jaded and cynical and depressed all the time…and then what? What do I get at the end of it, Aragorn? I've read the book you know…I'm going to end up in Eastbourne!"
"At least you get paid for all three movies."
"That's hardly the point…well maybe it is…anyway at least you don't have to do slashy bits with other hobbits!"
"No, I get to do slashy bits with Boromir."
"Hmph. Maybe you do have a bit of a raw deal at that. But we're getting beside the point, which is: I'm going to Morecambe – I mean Mordor – by myself, on my own, to destroy this dratted ring!"
"Ok." Said Aragorn, which was a bit of an anti-climax. He gave Frodo a bit of paper with a mobile number scrawled on it. "If you get into trouble, you know who to call..."
"Thanks." Said Frodo, touched.
"…Legolas." Finished Aragorn. Well, bye then."
Heading back to the Scary Forest, Aragorn spotted Boromir having a bit of a kip against a tree; getting closer he realised that his fellow hard bastard wasn't sleeping at all but was punctured with many arrows. Aragorn was distraught – why, he had missed the most exciting battle of the film! He knelt beside Boromir.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a bloody great pin cushion." The mighty warrior groaned.
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry!"
"Don't worry." Comforted Aragorn. "I'm sure a beautiful woman is around somewhere to nurse you back to health, shag you and then die or run off with someone of higher birth" **
"No…" Boromir was now trying all out for the Oscar, knowing this was his last chance. "Leave it. It is over."
"Fuck me! That was almost a line from the film!" Exclaimed Aragorn.
"Barely. Anyway, where was I?" A young girl ran in with a script.
"Ok, ok…here we are…make a depressing speech about how orcs ran off with the other hobbits." She ran off again.
"That was Mary-Sue, the prompt." Said Aragorn. Boromir took a breath and prepared his death-speech.
"The orcs ran off with Pippin and Merry." He said. "It's so depressing."
"Oh dear. Not your fault, pet."
"Thanks. But anyway…I have to die now. Right, here goes, should be worth a BAFTA at least…" the set became very quiet. Aragorn bowed his head sadly and took Boromir's hand.
"I would have followed you," whispered Boromir. "My brother…my captain…my…"
And his mobile went off.
"Shit!" Exclaimed Boromir. "There goes the Golden Globe at any rate."
"To be fair you hadn't got much chance anyway."
"Says you."
"Gentlemen, please!" Cried Mary-Sue. "The rest of the film's an anti- climax, we have to make this bit good. Ok, go again."
This time the death speech was successfully accomplished, though Boromir twitched slightly when Aragorn kissed him full on the lips.
"No, no!" Mary-Sue complained. "On the forehead, Aragorn, this isn't that type of movie!"
"Sorry."
At this point Legolas and Gimli turned up, where they fuck had they been?"
"Problems?" Asked Gimli.
"Boromir's dead."
"No I'm not."
"Shut up."
"Ooh, nice one, Boromir." Exclaimed the elf, leaning forward to pluck out an arrow from the fallen warrior's lifeless body. "I was just running out."
"You haven't shot anything in the entire parody, you nancy git." Said Gimli.
"Don't forget I'll be shagging you later." Retorted Legolas, and Gimli grimaced.
Boromir then departed to the Green Room where Gandalf the Gay was waiting for him. Mary-Sue put a dressing-gown around Boromir's shoulders.
"How was I, Gandy?" He cried.
"Wonderful, darling! Absolutely wonderful! It'll be theatre next…Shakespeare…" he draped an arm around Boromir's shoulders as they walked off together.
"You'd make a wonderful Macbeth," Gandalf continued, "I should know, I've played him myself…I'll put in a word for you with the RSC…"
Meanwhile some of the rest of the cast were still acting. Frodo was pushing off a boat into the river, on his way to Mordor, when Sam ran up behind him and started to shout slashy things in his yokel accent.
"I'm coming with you!"
"What?"
"I'm coming with you!"
"Say again? I can't hear you over the sound effects!"
"Oh for Christ's sake…" Sam jumped into the water, almost drowning, in an attempt to make the ending seem like less of an anti-climax. Frodo pulled him out though. He gets to be in the next film. The hobbits had some touching slashy moments in the boat, which Mary-Sue curtailed for fear of raising the film's rating to a twelve (or PG-13 which I assume is the US equivalent) and losing money.
"I'm coming." Said Sam.
"That's quite enough of that!" Cried Mary-Sue.
"I meant, I'm coming to Mordor, Mr. Frodo. You'll need someone to give you piggy back rides after all."
"Aw." Said Frodo. "How sweet. I'm glad you're with me, Sam." And on this slashy note, the film abruptly ended, leaving audience members in a state of bewildered expectancy.
*A/N for the uninitiated: Mrs. Doyle = priest's housekeeper in Irish TV show 'Father Ted.' She continually offers people cups of tea and when they refuse…
"Ah, go on. Ah, you will. Ah, go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on…" and she does. Go on, that is. Very funny, if you haven't seen it and you're not easily offended by blasphemy give it a try.
** A/N C.F. the excellent TV series 'Sharpe' (based on Bernard Cornwell's historical novels), starring Sean Bean. Swashbuckling Richard Sharpe spends most of his time killing French soldiers, shagging and getting 'mortally' wounded, then nursed back to health by random mute women (that's life eh?).
A/N Well! So ends the first part of the parody! Will Frodo and Sam get to Mordor? Will Boromir get his Oscar? Will Gandalf? Will Frodo become attached to his ring, or throw it into the flames? Does anyone care? Does anyone want me to continue this? I'll happily cover the next two books, this is fun! (manic grin)
Final A/N This is dedicated to Spike Milligan, King of Parody Writing! If you haven't read his versions of Lady Chatterly's Lover, Hound of the Baskervilles, Frankenstein and The Bible…well, you really really should.
Feedback please!!!! ( Hated it, liked it? Am I a dodgy bugger? Shall I write some more?