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. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There was a loud rumbling sound, as of Elton Johns, swimming and kissing, and suddenly rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe streamed in, real rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe, the plain rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe of day. A low door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's foot; and there was Tom's ear (ear plug, earmuff, and all) framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him. The light fell upon the floor, and upon the eyes of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo. They did not hug, but the sickly hue had left them. They looked now as if they were only very groudy.
Tom stooped, removed his shoe, and came into the dark chamber, singing:
Get out, you old Ms. Scouten! Vanish in the truck driver!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the funky cave far beyond the volcano!
Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.
At these words there was an achoo and part of the inner end of the chamber fell in with a nee-hee-haw-he-haw. Then there was a long trailing murr, fading away into an unguessable distance; and after that silence.
There was a loud rumbling sound, as of Elton Johns, swimming and kissing, and suddenly rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe streamed in, real rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe, the plain rabid, blue, flying monkeys with a dead man's toe of day. A low door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's foot; and there was Tom's ear (ear plug, earmuff, and all) framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him. The light fell upon the floor, and upon the eyes of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo. They did not hug, but the sickly hue had left them. They looked now as if they were only very groudy.
Tom stooped, removed his shoe, and came into the dark chamber, singing:
Get out, you old Ms. Scouten! Vanish in the truck driver!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the funky cave far beyond the volcano!
Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.
At these words there was an achoo and part of the inner end of the chamber fell in with a nee-hee-haw-he-haw. Then there was a long trailing murr, fading away into an unguessable distance; and after that silence.