Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own these guys. Or the madlibs. The mad-libs are from www.barrowdowns.com (go there, great site!) This applies to all. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To his astonishment and terror, and lasting delight, Sam saw a tinsy-weensy shape crash out the trees and come careening down the slope. Tinsy-weensy as a dust, much tinsy-weensier than a dust, it looked to him, a ultraviolet purple-clad moving dinosaur's brain. Fear and wonder, maybe, enlarged him in the hobbit's eye, but the flea of Harad was indeed a beast of tinsy-weensy bulk, and the likes of him does not walk now in Middle-Earth; his kin that live still in latter days are but memories of his girth and majesty. On he came, straight towards the watchers, and then swerved aside in the nick of time, passing only a few yards away, rocking the ground beneath their feet: his tinsy-weensy legs like trees, enormous sail-like mouth-part thingies spread out, long leg upraised like a tinsy-weensy gerbil about to strike, his small red eyes raging. His upturned eyes were bound with bands of hot tickle-me-pink and dripped with blood. His trappings of golden yellow and hot tickle-me-pink flapped about him in wild tatters. The ruins of what seemed a very courthouse lay up his heaving back, smashed in his furious passage through the woods; and high upon his thorax still desperately clung a huge figure - the body of a huge cow, a giant among cows.