We, the Spork Ladies, own nada, zilch, zero, and nothing on top of that.
____________________
"Meanwhile..."
Away in his tower, the wizard Saruman, was pining away for some adventure. Since there was not a Ring for him to yearn for, and since the Dark Lord had gotten a little weak after losing the One Ring AND the One Spork all in one sitting, life was rather boring. The Orcs around him were getting sick of listening to him complain about nothing to do and no one to torment. In their frustration, they informed Saruman the White of the ongoing existence of the One Spork.
"The Spork of Mordor, hmmm?" he pondered aloud. "Well then, that would be a nice little treasure for me to get my well-manicured nails on." He paused to look at his fingertips, which DID look rather nice.
"I have decided," he announced in a deep voice. "The Spork shall be mine... I mean, Sauron's once again! I want you to go after it, and bring it to me... so that I can give it to him..... yeah, that's it! And, what the heck, bring the hobbits with ya. They might be good for a laugh."
The Orcs, rather happy for the chance to actually leave the tower, quickly buckled down to their task. They gathered battle equipment, rallied their numbers and spread the word about their new quest.
Saruman watched all of this with eager eyes, and as the first wave left to hunt after the Spork, he started doing a happy dance. "Look at me," he exclaimed. "I'm dancin' like a monkey!" Then he stopped, and wondered where the heck he got that idea from. The influence of the spork was on him already.
The Orcs travelled as quickly as they could, their evil hearts actually lightened by the fact that they had escaped from the whiny wizard. Rambling in their evil language, they discussed Saruman's desire to create the perfect Orc specimen, how much they hated elves, and the weather, which was rather lovely for this time of year. Before long, they had reached the mines of Moria, where they sat and waited for their prey.
____________________
"Meanwhile..."
Away in his tower, the wizard Saruman, was pining away for some adventure. Since there was not a Ring for him to yearn for, and since the Dark Lord had gotten a little weak after losing the One Ring AND the One Spork all in one sitting, life was rather boring. The Orcs around him were getting sick of listening to him complain about nothing to do and no one to torment. In their frustration, they informed Saruman the White of the ongoing existence of the One Spork.
"The Spork of Mordor, hmmm?" he pondered aloud. "Well then, that would be a nice little treasure for me to get my well-manicured nails on." He paused to look at his fingertips, which DID look rather nice.
"I have decided," he announced in a deep voice. "The Spork shall be mine... I mean, Sauron's once again! I want you to go after it, and bring it to me... so that I can give it to him..... yeah, that's it! And, what the heck, bring the hobbits with ya. They might be good for a laugh."
The Orcs, rather happy for the chance to actually leave the tower, quickly buckled down to their task. They gathered battle equipment, rallied their numbers and spread the word about their new quest.
Saruman watched all of this with eager eyes, and as the first wave left to hunt after the Spork, he started doing a happy dance. "Look at me," he exclaimed. "I'm dancin' like a monkey!" Then he stopped, and wondered where the heck he got that idea from. The influence of the spork was on him already.
The Orcs travelled as quickly as they could, their evil hearts actually lightened by the fact that they had escaped from the whiny wizard. Rambling in their evil language, they discussed Saruman's desire to create the perfect Orc specimen, how much they hated elves, and the weather, which was rather lovely for this time of year. Before long, they had reached the mines of Moria, where they sat and waited for their prey.