Hi Guys! This is a story that was written and posted a while back by me and
Kawai Hikari, but it uploaded awfully and was really hard to understand!
So, Kawai Hikari's modified it and now it's a little easier! (but still
totally confusing, character bashing, and Tolkien will be rolling in his
grave whilest anyone reads it)
So, please read and review! Enjoy (
By the way: Disclaimer: Don't own Lotr, its characters, or any other copyrights infringed upon in this . ahem . story. *runs away from rabid crowd of lawyers* AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What Really Happened in The Lord of the Rings
It was a dark and stormy night and the sun was shining bright as Frodo, Hero of the west ..hang on. .the sun was shining bright? Oh no it was just a dream!
Frodo Baggins opened his eyes and stared for a while at the Thomas the Tank engine ceiling of his pink bedroom on the 7th floor of his 2nd cousin's uncle's brother's niece's 57th cousin's (twice removed and long- tailed on his grandmother's side) house Bag End. It was as his dream had suggested, a lovely sunny day in the Shire, or to be more precise, Hobbiton in the Shire, a rural backwater known to very few.
Frodo was a hobbit. And since you're looking at me as though I'd gone completely bananas and suggested that Celine Dion could actually sing, I had better explain what a hobbit is or rather was. Hobbits were figments of J.R.R. Tolkien's imagination that he put onto paper and spread into our world. To cut a long story short, hobbits are short, have hairy feet, a tendency to run at the mouth and overfondness for their food, or grub as they say.
Samwise Gamgee, devoted hobbit servant and nursemaid to Frodo, bustled in, gave him breakfast in bed, combed his feet, hoovered the room and left, dusting Frodo's nose as he went and politely informing him; "Your bath will be ready in 2.4 seconds Mr Frodo!" Frodo ate the 600 courses and, after a little confusion as to how the door worked, made his way to the bathroom, and fell headfirst into the tub. Sam, with a world-weary sigh, pulled him upright and proceeded to give him a good scrub and five star polish. Frodo somehow managed to get out of the tub, after a brief moment of panic that he would be eaten by the soap monster, and went to his room to be 'ceremonially' dressed by Sam.
By this time, Bilbo, crotchety old hobbit with many eccentricities, had got up and was complaining loudly about the state of the sink.
There came a loud knock at the door, followed by loud cursing on Bilbo's behalf as he grumbled about the inconvenience of uninvited people. The door exploded. "Must be someone important," Frodo remarked to Sam, "Only important visitors bother knocking the door down."
They walked in on a large argument. "Why can't you open the door like normal people instead of blowing my door to bits! It's the 579th this year!" bellowed Bilbo, covered in plaster.
"It's not my fault you don't have the decency to let the most powerful wizards in Middle earth in!" retorted the ugly and slightly bent form of Gandalf the Grey, a wizard. Gandalf was an old 'friend' of Bilbo, seeing as how he was constantly bringing dwarves with dragon-related problems to do with abandoned treasure and income tax for Bilbo to sort out.
He had come with a large cart full of various mystical/pointless items like the Holy Grail, Excaliber, the Golden fleece, a piece of the true cross, the Goblet of Fire, The Philosopher's Stone and several reprints of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. But the thing that caught Frodo's innocent and childish eyes were the large boxes with the brand name; 'Gandalf the Grey INC' written on them with a price tag going well into 6 figures.
"Gandalf, you brought fireworks!" Sam fussed, "What a terribly dangerous thing to bring! What if Mr Frodo gets hold of one! He might break himself!"
While he was saying this, Sam was keeping tight hold of Frodo's scruff to prevent him from trying to eat one of the fireworks or read the totally awful excuses for books. Gandalf and Bilbo, by this time, had already settled down in the living room, lit their pipes and were having a heated debate about which was better, robes or hobbit shorts.
They also were discussing plans for Bilbo's eleventyfirst (111) birthday party, which was to take place later on that evening. All the hobbits in the Shire were invited as long as they gave him a decent present. It promised to be an evening of fun, food and hobbits getting completely and utterly blasted. Even Frodo's intellectual cousins, Merry and Pippin the legendary walking science dictionaries were invited, but only with gags.
******
It was night and the loud, disturbing and extremely annoying sound of hobbits partying was booming throughout the Shire. Bilbo welcomed those who brought expensive presents and avoided those who didn't. Frodo got his bad self down on the dance floor, attracting many coy looks from the hobbit- girls and jealous looks from Sam, who couldn't dance to save his life or, more importantly, Mr Frodo's. The fact that he did everything else for Frodo did not cancel this out, no matter how hard he tried.
The only female who was not trying to seduce Frodo was Arwen Undomiel, elf princess extraordinaire. Arwen was the millennia old beauty, daughter of Elrond and the only woman for the front of Vogue. She had the looks, style and breasts of a woman who knows how to wow the fashion world. She was sharply intelligent and the best fighter that the world has ever seen, and it will probably stay that way. She was there to make sure the Ring of Power was not lost and to get cheap credit on her mobile.
The Ring of Power, to tell you a brief history, was made by the Dark Lord Sauron to rule Middle Earth. It was made in his dark kingdom of Mordor in the Cracks of Doom (a very bad holiday destination). He almost succeeded but was inconveniently defeated and disembodied by the Last Alliance of Postmen and Dustbinelves. It was supposed to be the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, but they were too busy watching Coronation Street and crying over the death of Ashley Moorecross.
******
Sauron, by this time, had gathered his forces together and was massing in the east, but the hobbits didn't know this, and frankly they didn't care either.
Arwen however did know and did care. "Blasted heels!" she growled as she tripped yet again over her 12 inch stilettos as she attempted the most complicated manoeuvre in the history of dance, the Tripleflipple Gronsendbongle Doublebelly-flip. Considering the fact that she was she was supposed to be saving the world the almost-but-not-quite-indecent miniskirt she was wearing was definitely not practical. It looked like someone had attempted to make it out of virtually no leather at all. As for her top, imagine weaving mercury into material and making it into a loose flighty garment that lifted with the slightest summer breeze.
The hobbits carried on with their merrymaking, seducing and getting well and truly drunk as a skunk old boy! In the background Gandalf slaved away over a hot firework display, whilst trying to seduce any of the eligible females. Actually, any females. None of them were interested in his pointy hat tricks however as they were either busy trying to seduce Frodo or committing murder on the dance floor, cos Gandalf killed the groove, DJ, . . . . What, sorry got a little distracted there for a minute.
Whilst everyone was busy seducing, being drunk or yelling lewd rugby songs, the intellectual Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took had removed their gags in the most scientifically correct way possible (this includes gunpowder, calcium sulphate, 2 volcanoes and orange-flavoured lipstick) and were having a perfectly normal conversation.
"I'm telling you Pippin old boy the reason the explosive quality of the potassium oxide used in the outer coating causes the chemical reaction of ethanol zinc sulphate is that the cocamidopropyl betaine in the hydrochloric acid has solidified state," Merry argued, running out of breath.
"No Merry old chum, that is totally scientifically incorrect because any close friend of Gandalf's would know that he uses the more alkaline solution of 4-chloro-2,4-dibromo-5,5-diiodo-2,3-dimethyl pentanal to enforce a state of salicycline sodium tetraborate in the liquid stored in the calciumated undercoat," Pippin was fighting back!
"Now you're just making it up!"
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
This went on for 30 minutes or so, before they decided to test their theories on the largest and most dangerous firework that Gandalf had. Unfortunately, they had no experience of fireworks which was the main reason this happened:
"Pippin old fruit I rather fancy that the more spikeular end of this scientific investigation should be forced into an orifice in the ground!"
"But Merry old duck I think your good self will discover that the end of this object has been forced into an orifice in the ground, due to the exertion of force I placed upon it to unbalance the forces and enable it to go in the floor!"
"No my dear old chum, I meant outside the vicinity of this canvas covering referred to by the illiterate as a 'tent'. It should not be setting off its chemical reaction in here!"
"I must say my dear old duck-billed platypus that I believe it was your general theory to conduct this experiment!"
While they argued it out, the firework went off and sent a ferocious red dragon that quite unintentionally managed to burn up 12 of the hobbits present before fizzling out. Merry and Pippin turned away from their long and frankly bewildering scientific debate to say; "I say Pippin old ink eraser, that was rather spectacular and in more ways than a scientific view would take it."
"I quite agree my dear old rusty monkey. Let us proceed to partake of another test and this time let us observe it and make notes more conscientiously."
A scabbed and diseased wrinkly old hand clamped around 1 of each of their ears. "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. I might have known!" Gandalf declared triumphantly, dragging them off to the worst punishment in history. Giving Gandalf's feet a massage!!!!!!!!
***
After 6 hours partying when all the hobbits were either unconscious or inarticulate due to the vast amounts of alcohol they had consumed, Bilbo decided to make his speech, a clever move because everyone was so drunk they wouldn't care what he said.
"My friends, family, and hobbit who's guts I hate," he began, the hobbits all cheered, "I have some things to tell you. One, I hate you all, two, I love 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban', three, I'm drunk doncha know, and finally four, I am leaving!" After dropping his pants in acknowledgement of them all (which was greeted with loud cheers) Bilbo put on the Ring of Power, which he found lying around in a cave once, and disappeared with a loud and very fake ping. Gandalf looked guilty and hid his ping machine behind his back. The hobbits looked slightly confused and then cheered again. It seemed the right thing to do in the situation.
Bilbo then appeared with another ping and said; "I forgot to say: 'I don't know one fifth of you two tenths as a monkey's bum could 3 quarters multiplied by five sixtieths divide 23 by fifty-six one hundredths' and quite frankly I don't care, because apart from Frodo you're all gits. Frodo is just a babyish imbecile with less sense than Britney Spears! Humph!" There was another loud fake ping from Gandalf as Bilbo disappeared again and the crowd proceeded to cheer again and go into another round of lewd songs.
Frodo, not looking too bothered that his favourite relative had referred to him as an imbecile, looked extremely puzzled and said "Britney Spears?" He then went into a loud and very embarrassing tantrum because the hobbit-lass had left make-up all over his mouth. Sam, with various cooing noises, despite looking outrageously jealous due to the fact that Frodo snogged every young girl at the party and he had only got the crazy old bag from Crickhollow, comforted his bawling master.
**************
17 years later, when Frodo had an extensive criminal record (from his continual sweet shop robberies), 25 ex-girlfriends, an enormously inflated sense of pride and still less brains than a fly, Gandalf, that brave old drunk came by for another visit. He drank all the alcohol in Bag End, covered the bath with pondweed, pipeweed and various other weeds and exploded it several times.
One evening, Frodo was sitting in his favourite thinking chair contemplating suicide. And it wasn't because he was seriously depressed or enraged. He just liked the word. It was the very longest word he knew and Sam had uneasily explained it as "Why his parents where in hobbit heaven." After much thought, he had come to the conclusion that Gandalf was feeling a little tense due to the sweat pouring off him in buckets, the continual tears and weeping tantrums and the unusual shrieking noise he was making every 5 minutes.
Suddenly, Gandalf leapt up, streaked into the corridor, hit his head on the chandelier and knocked himself out. "Good," thought Arwen, who was currently perched on the window ledge peering in, "Now we might get some peace!"
Frodo ambled out of the living room, looked down at Gandalf's prostrate form in mild surprise and muttered, "I knew I should have asked Sam to move that thing," before screaming for Sam to get him ready for bed.
With no warning Gandalf leapt five feet in the air and shouted, "DOOM!" in what would have been a very impressive show, had he not staggered, tripped over his robes and fallen headlong into the stack of dirty washing Sam had just lobbed out of the kitchen. Then, for no apparent reason Merry and Pippin stormed in and began having a loud and very heated scientific argument.
"I'm telling you, Merry me old gherkin, the reason that pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconosis affects the indescribably scientifically challenged doofus's that persist in the pointless exercise of mining is that they get carbon molecules trapped in the cavities of the alveoli."
"No, no my dear old monkey nut I believe that the reason that pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconosis affects the indescribably scientifically challenged doofus's that persist in the pointless exercise of mining is that they carry the species marvoliities constromagon into the maw of siliconisis."
"I'm telling you, me old pickled onion...."
This went on for some time, before they agreed to disagree and proceeded to ask Frodo if they could stay for the evening. Considering it was past midnight, this was a bit late coming but they stayed anyway for the booze- up.
******
Eventually, after 2 weeks and a lot of heavy whisky treatment, Gandalf came to his senses. "Frodo, I have something to tell you that is very important."
Frodo totally ignored him and, pulling out a large stick, proceeded to wave it around making various swishing noises. "The Force is with me! Take that Darth Vader! Woohoo!" he yelled and gave Gandalf a good few prods in the unmentionables. Gandalf, with much screaming, crying and whistles, looked at Sam in a rather confused way and scratched his head.
"Do 'ee 'ave loice Mr Gandalfy?" Sam asked producing a large bottle of lice shampoo. He then gave Gandalf's hair and beard such a good scrub that any onlookers would immediately joined the National Lice Defense League.
"No Sam, I'm slightly confused about Frodo's actions, but then I have always had doubts his sanity. Since it is a matter of immense importance I'd better tell you it to give him in a way he will understand. When you do explain it, use puppets to make it clearer. Anyway, that ring that Bilbo gave him is the Ring of Power and it must be taken to Rivendell as soon as possible and discreetly. The spies of Sauron are everywhere."
A loud and ominous chord sounded through the room and the bent evil- looking hunchback who walked like he had a hip problem stood up, dusted the crumbs off his black robes, blinked his red eyes, straightened the neon sign around his neck that said; "Serve Sauron, He's our tyrant, If he can't conquer, No-one.er.will!", and guiltily stalked out the room with a great and unnecessary amount of hissing, taking his cup of tea with him.
Sam glared. "That were moi best choina that was! No-good evil servant of Sauron's darkness!"
Arwen sighed, shook her head in disbelief and hopped off the window ledge to walk off a cramp. "Well that didn't take very long did it now?" If her voice had had any more sarcasm in it, it would have been able to drill its way to Australia. Even though Australia was in a completely different time and reality.
After a large amount of time, and many boring deeds like paying the bill of ownership that you get when you inherit the odd extremely powerful world shattering thing like a Ring of Power, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin got to Bree, via a dodgy taxi service, that Gandalf had recommended. Normally everything that Gandalf recommended was dodgy and if it wasn't you had to beware because it was then either evil, run by a load of perverts, expensive or, more often than not, some kind of cruel joke. Gandalf was like that.
Gandalf had managed to skip all of this by going for a walk and getting kidnapped (or wizardnapped) by Saruman, a fellow wizard who had been corrupted (mind you, most people in Middle-Earth where either evil, imbeciles or continuously drunk and approximately half the population were gay)
*****
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Frodo and his harem of pint-sized boyfriends, er, 'chums' had got to the -5 star inn, The Nancing Pony. They entered and were immediately set upon by 60 or more lawyers. You will notice that we have not bothered to put 'dodgy' because all lawyers are dodgy. If they aren't they have been bribed, drugged, are drunk, or have gone even more mad than other lawyers. Sam shook off the lawyers by offering them some tea. They took this as an insult and began to write arguments to present in court to prosecute him.
Frodo and Sam sat down and ate some dubious cheese, that to the experienced and Arwen's eyes was obviously well past it's sell by date, not to mention stuffed with drugs. Merry and Pippin decided to see how much alcohol intake it would need for then to get totally and utterly blasted. After the first pint, they were up on the table with their underwear on their heads dancing round and singing 'The Grand Old Duke Of York' in scientific terms. We will not even attempt to repeat it or explain it because it was too slurred and too scientifically bewildering for us or anyone else with half a brain to understand.
Frodo looked over to the corner where the dark and mysterious stranger should have been lurking. He wasn't there. He had thrown off his black cape and was dancing on the table. He was wearing a glittery blue body suit and glittery red high-heeled shoes, which clashed dreadfully. His name was Aragorn. You could tell this, by the neon sign that he wore on top of the large union jack hat, which read "Hey you cats! Aragorn, son of Arathorn here! Rightful heir to the throne of Middle-Earth! Oh, and Frodo, I know about the Ring of Power and can help you on your journey to Rivendell! Don't tell anyone! Hang loose man!" It was a very large sign. He was singing a version of Night Fever, it was barely recognisable due to the fact that the name 'Arwen' was mentioned every two words.
Arwen sighed and proceeded to give Aragorn..er..the mysterious stranger a good kicking (which he enjoyed immensely) before throwing him back in his dark corner with his previously cast aside black cloak complaining about men who stole her shoes.
"Oh look at all the pretty bunnies," Frodo commented, staring at Merry, who was crying about the fact the cat wouldn't go on a date with him. Obviously the drugs that had been slipped into their drinks/cheese were beginning to take effect.
Aragorn stood up, weaved his way over to Sam and shouted, "Come on dudes! Let's go and party on!!!" Arwen glared at him from her own patented dark corner (she had refused to share Aragorn's, due to the leather underwear he was waving at her) and he immediately melted. "I mean..come on, let's You- know-what about the you-know-what!"
"What you-know-what?"
"The you-know-what that what's the you!"
"Know?"
"What?"
"You?"
"Who?"
"Yoo-hoo!!!!!" shouted Pippin, who was beginning to lose his grip on reality and his drinks.
After much pointless 'You-know-what'-ing , they finally got up to Aragorn's room. I must now ask you to remove your minds from the gutter. They are NOT doing anything dodgy (but the occupants of the room next-door were getting seriously..OOOOWWW!..sorry, my lawyers tell me I'm not allowed to use language like that in a PG. Even though this is a U. And it's not a film. I'll stop blabbering now and continue the story.)
Aragorn and Merry were dancing a waltz and Frodo and Sam were unconscious on the floor. Pippin was doing the Full Monty. Arwen cut the whole scene and put them all to bed with a mug of warm milk and a pleasant bedtime story. The fact this story explained what had to be done with the Ring has nothing to do with anything. Two hours later, 5 extremely embarrassed wraiths in black tip- toed out the room and ominously, but quietly, stormed away on their demonic steeds, grumbling about "Why can't we ever be on time these days. Fri..er..blasted she-elves."
***********
In the morning, after a hearty breakfast of cocoa beans and myrrh, the company walked out the inn. They then walked back in to pick up their packs, clothes, dolphins and ice skates. Don't ask. They're men. They set off in a North-Easterly direction. After 10 hours of travelling, they reached a pleasant little village with a nice inn called 'The Nancing Pony'. It seemed strangely familiar.
Arwen looked irritated and carried them to Rivendell, having only three problems:- 1. Aragorn misplaced his neon pink underwear. 2. They didn't have enough curry, not that it had been invented or anything and even if it had Arwen wouldn't have been particularly interested, but Frodo refused to eat anything else. Sam solved this problem with the old 'Train-in-the-tunnel' method. 3. The Ringwraiths were stalking Frodo. The companions couldn't turn around without treading on one of the them. The black robes ended up having foot marks all over them. Arwen, after getting fed up with them, chucked sixty-odd plastic rings at them and shot them constantly with a machine gun. We know that's an anachronism but we don't care for technical details and neither does Arwen. If it makes you feel better, it had Elvish inscriptions on it. But it could have been the philosophical writings of a drunk (coughcoughFrodocoughcough).
After some unpleasant dealings with the horses of Ford Bruinen who thought Aragorn was a Wraith, they entered Rivendell. Arwen finally managed to discover the reason for the curry shortage. Frodo had eaten it all. In one night. With too much lager. And apple juice. Oh dear. Obviously he was suffering from severe indigestion. Arwen was fed up with the useless bunch of men and abandoned them at the foyer of Rivendell Hotel with some indigestion tablets.
Rivendell was a beautiful Elvish metropolis. Well, it would be if there were no elves in it. Litter covered muddy pavements and drunks were as common as illegitimate children (who were as common as rain in Britain). The hotel where our..erm..heroes were lodging was a shabby run-down place which over-charged dramatically. Not surprising really since there were no visitors to Rivendell anymore. Come to think of it there never were in the first place.
The..ahem..leader of Rivendell was a half-elf called Smellrond. Did I say that? I meant Elrond, but Smellrond suited him better. He was a really bad leader and only managed to stay in charge because he often ran 'Respect for Gay Elves' campaigns and gave lots of money to Loreal hair products and Maybelline make up factories. He was an old 'friend' of Gandalf's . That means he ran a dodgy night club, overcharged and perved on everybody and was a well-known supplier of cocaine. He was very wise. No, I tell a lie, he wasn't. But he had half a brain cell, which was half a brain cell more than all the other males in this historic event. He called a council to decide the fate of the Ring. He got them there by telling them it was a disco with free drinks and strippers. Male strippers.
The people who attended represented the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. Or at least, the Drug-Addicted and Gay People of Middle Earth. There was Gimli, the whisky freak who constantly moaned about how his wife had left him. After 3 minutes of talking to him, they understood why. Also: Legolas Greenleaf, the gayest gay elf who ever nanced down the pike with all of his beauty kit. Imagine 5 neon pink suitcases with Barbie on them. Boromir from Gondor, a snobbish, smelly, drug crazed and surprisingly greasy haired man with the charm and intellectual capacity of an artichoke. A sad Star Trek watching artichoke. Ignore the anachronism again. Aragorn, glitzy seventies, shoe-stealing, Arwen-obsessed weirdo. Gandalf, wheeler-dealer cheap-magician extraordinary. Frodo, imbecile. Sam, mother hen. Merry and Pippin, scientific geniuses. And Arwen, the best thing that happened in Middle Earth since sliced bread (which, incidentally, she invented.) Arwen was hiding in a dark corner. She favoured the whole dark corner thing. She had no difficulty in not being seen. Then again, neither would an orange dragon with scurvy. Arwen had been forbidden to attend the council. The men had decided it was too intellectual for a girl. They were wrong. Obviously. Her IQ was approximately 556743984628345628465. All of the 8 men above, Legolas and Elrond had the brains of a boiled potato. And that's put together. Scary.
The council opened with Elrond saying, "DOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!" in an ominous voice with much gesturing and pointless staring at all present. Gandalf glared at him. "That's MY phrase. I copyrighted that phrase."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"You startin' something big guy?"
"So what if I am?"
"Sod off!"
"Why don't you?"
This little spar lasted for some time, during which Frodo complained, Sam cooed over Frodo comfortingly, Gimli fell off his chair, Legolas completed his make-up and started giving Gimli a make-over, Merry and Pippin debated about Einstein's theory of Relatively, Aragorn informed Boromir about how wonderful Arwen was and Boromir and Arwen got seriously pissed off about this. Boromir was dying to tell Aragorn about another elf crumpet he'd met and Arwen was embarrassed at how the conversation was veering towards her underwear. No, I tell a lie once again (naughty me!), it was past her underwear. We won't go into detail. You're all dirty enough to know what we're talking about.
Eventually, Elrond and Gandalf finished their argument. Gandalf won, but only because he watched too many John Wayne films and had learned all the catchphrases. Elrond kicked Gimli awake and everyone gasped in surprise. Instead of his normal matted braids of ginger hair (well we think it's hair) and greasy wrinkly skin, a Madonna lookalike with bright pink hair in a miniskirt blinked up from his whisky flooded sleep. Jaws dropped and drooling commenced (Except from Legolas, he was drooling over his own reflection and Arwen, of course, who was disgusted by the display.)
Following six hours of discussion/drooling, the council decided to order several cream teas, whisky, mascara and a pizza. Then they got down to planning about how to get rid of the Ring.
The Suggestions were:- Gimli suggested whisky therapy. He had had one too many, or, to be more precise, 300454302442129 too many. Legolas suggested giving it a make over because it was tacky, predictable and had too little pink floral patterns. His comment was greeted with blinks. Aragorn wanted to use it as a wedding ring for him and Arwen and teach it how to dance. Arwen was flattered but annoyed by her 'fiancé's' idea and hit him with a random statue. Boromir wanted to use it's evil powers to wash his hair, the hair that not even Legolas could clean. Frodo cried and told Sam to get rid of the nasty wasty Ring and get him a new Thomas the Tank Engine toy. Sam said why didn't they melt it down and make a statue of Mr Frodo sir. Merry and Pippin made several plausible suggestions but these were ignored because not one word had less than seven syllables. Gandalf was too busy gloating over how long his toenails were, to everyone's disgust. At the end of this, Arwen was ill with loathing at how daft they were.
They came to the conclusion that all of them, except Arwen because she was a girl and they didn't know she was there no matter how many times she had hit them, and Elrond because he didn't want to and was still pissed off with Gandalf, would go to Mount Doom and get rid of it that way.
The Day of Departure dawned bright and sunny in a kind of foggy rainy kind of a way. Arwen was relieved that the romance scene had been skipped. Frodo took one look outside and sat down, complaining that his nosey-wosey would get cold. Sam cooed over his master. Constantly. We mean ALL day. Very loudly.
So instead, the next day they set out. After 2 yards they sat down to rest, complaining of blisters. Boromir, in a surprising moment of cleverness, announced that they should see what each had brought that could help them on their quest. The Fellowship emptied their pockets.
The list ran thus: Legolas- Only the bare essentials; All his skin care products All his make-up All the 10000000 copies of Vogue with him in All 60 pairs of shoes His neon pink tights All his hair products
Gimli- Whisky Whisky And more Whisky
Boromir- Porn magazines Razor to do his legs Waxing equipment The 'How to Kill Ringbearer and Steal Ring' handbook
Aragorn- Pictures of Arwen Arwen's sexy underwear (Arwen blushes and slaps her fiance) His fluffy kitten, Bob
Frodo- All his Thomas the Tank engine toys, books and videos His pet spoon, Archibald A bag of Wotsits Hobbit-lass's underwear. One of the more desperate hobbit lasses had left it with him at the party. He didn't know what to do with it.
Sam- Sandwiches- Whisky for Gimli Make-up for Legolas Shampoo for Boromir (He fervently believed it would clean his hair) Arwen's toenail clippings for Aragorn (She was being sick at this point) Thomas the Tank Engine shaped curry for Frodo Scientific dictionaries for Merry and Pippin Something dodgy looking labelled 'Toenail lengthener' and firework insides for Gandalf Frodo's hair clippings for himself.
Merry and Pippin- All their scientific supplies
Gandalf was last to show them his supplies. He pulled down his trousers/robes and yanked a leaflet out of one of the concealed pockets in his thong. He examined it carefully and stood up, lifting the leaflet above his head, proclaiming, "We shall take the..BUS!!!"
The Fellowship backed away from the wizard, who pulled up his trousers/pullled down his robes and started to run South. After a few minutes they shrugged and followed the loony..I mean wizard.
Their paths led them to a run-down and (den den DEEEN!) dodgy looking bus shelter. Gandalf was sat outside, leering over his toenails again. Aragorn struck a pose and cried, "Verily, we forsooth thine road for a pompernickle!"
Arwen cringed and slapped he forehead in despair. She had been following the company since Riverndell and was, by now, wishing she could kill herself. She can't. Not because of a lack of weapons, but because we, with our authoress powers (Powers..powers..powers..) have decided to keep her in the story.
A creaky bus rattled its way into view. The driver was dressed in black robes and had a suspiciously high screaming voice and a black horse with a neon sign saying 'Property of Ringwraith number 6' was sat on the back row, grinning insanely.
Gandalf gaily trotted over and shouted, "Hail, jolly evil driver! We need a lift to (Gandalfs voice gets deep and spooky) MORDOR!!!!!!!"
The driver took a ciggarette out of his mou..erm..hood and leered (which of course is impossible if you are a faceless demon, but he managed quite well) "I can give you a lift to (Voice goes deep and spooky) MORDOR!!!!"
"Then we want 9 tickets to (Gandalfs voice gets deep and spooky yet again) MORDOR!!!!"
"All aboard for (Voice goes.oh sod it, you get the point!) MORDOR!!!!"
Arwen was fed up of the whole 'deep voice' thing and threw the Fellowship into the bus before elegantly leaping onto the roof. She was perfectly well aware that the driver was a Ringwraith, but the burned hand teaches best. And anyway, she was annoyed with Aragorn for forgetting their anniversary (Well..she wasn't ..but you've got to be mad sometimes) and couldn't stand listening to their conversations again. She had more enjoyment being forced to talk to death lawyers and door-to-door salesmen. She was also fed up of saving their butts everytime they got into trouble.
The bus driver soon got tired of them singing 'The wheels on the bus' (Frodo had insisted) and revealed his true self. The deadly leader of the Rabid Killer Maths Teachers Association Trademark Patent Applied For (From now on know as the RKMTA, because I really can't be bothered to type it again). He was also Nazgul number 6. He made a reach to steal the Ring off Frodo, only to have Sam clobber him with a whisky sandwich.
At the sight of this, Gimli's heart did break, or at least mildly shatter in several small ways. He leapt at his foe with a terrifying roar/sob/slur/cry of "My whisky!!!". When Gimli had finished with him, Nazgul number 6 was no more than an empty pile of robes with no soul, lacking in limbs and drained dry of whisky. Frodo started to cry. Again.
Legolas leapt up, brushing his hair wildly, crying "Fear not, Brief Mortals, for I know how to drive!" Legolas donned his bus driving costume and they drove away into the setting sun. Well, they would have done if they hadn't crashed into the nearest lamppost. Eventually, after much argument, they decided to scrap the bus and hire a taxi. It then took about five days to trek back to Rivendell to find a telephone book. Elrond was paralytic by this time, having drunk too much booze on his 'Gandalf's- finally-gone!' binge. Arwen was bashing her head against the wall and making plans for her own execution.
Following this diversity, Frodo stole Elrond's pension fund and booked himself a five-star weekend in Paris with Sam and a trip to Disneyland.
Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn went on a boy's night out, got plastered and woke up in the morning in compromising positions on the sofa with a distinct lack of clothing. The National Hero Defence League hushed this up. Arwen, contrary to belief, really didn't care, as she had never been in love with Aragorn, but she dumped him anyway, just to break his heart.
Pippin and Merry went on to win several Nobel prizes and invent all scientific laws known today. This was also hushed up, this time by the world's leading scientists. Pippin and Merry had a clear disadvantage on the case, being fictional characters and extremely short.
Gandalf won numerous prizes for his abnormally long toenails.
Boromir suffered from Greasilitus, before getting shot by a stray bulle.arrow when he was crossing the road one day.
Arwen herself went to Mordor, destroyed the Ring, and subsequently saved Middle Earth. She then settled down to a quiet life killing people, uncovering crooked governments and saving lives as the top agent at the FBI and numerous other secret organisations. She refused to be seduced by James Bond, but that's another story.
And they all lived happily ever to the end of their days ............................... ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ........................................................ What the hell am I talking about? They all got ripped off, became gay icons, were sued for fraud, repulsed by all and kicked out of their various clubs.
Arwen was the only one who had a happy ending. Think of her as you disconnect from the Internet. She will be gracefully ramming her gun somewhere dark that will make it impossible for her enemy to walk, while the setting sun picks out the ramshackle and polluted beauty spots of Middle Earth.
The Road Goes Ever On And On..Especially If You Are A Female Elf With Attitude.
Have a nice day! ^_^
Oh, and REVIEW PLEASE!(
So, please read and review! Enjoy (
By the way: Disclaimer: Don't own Lotr, its characters, or any other copyrights infringed upon in this . ahem . story. *runs away from rabid crowd of lawyers* AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What Really Happened in The Lord of the Rings
It was a dark and stormy night and the sun was shining bright as Frodo, Hero of the west ..hang on. .the sun was shining bright? Oh no it was just a dream!
Frodo Baggins opened his eyes and stared for a while at the Thomas the Tank engine ceiling of his pink bedroom on the 7th floor of his 2nd cousin's uncle's brother's niece's 57th cousin's (twice removed and long- tailed on his grandmother's side) house Bag End. It was as his dream had suggested, a lovely sunny day in the Shire, or to be more precise, Hobbiton in the Shire, a rural backwater known to very few.
Frodo was a hobbit. And since you're looking at me as though I'd gone completely bananas and suggested that Celine Dion could actually sing, I had better explain what a hobbit is or rather was. Hobbits were figments of J.R.R. Tolkien's imagination that he put onto paper and spread into our world. To cut a long story short, hobbits are short, have hairy feet, a tendency to run at the mouth and overfondness for their food, or grub as they say.
Samwise Gamgee, devoted hobbit servant and nursemaid to Frodo, bustled in, gave him breakfast in bed, combed his feet, hoovered the room and left, dusting Frodo's nose as he went and politely informing him; "Your bath will be ready in 2.4 seconds Mr Frodo!" Frodo ate the 600 courses and, after a little confusion as to how the door worked, made his way to the bathroom, and fell headfirst into the tub. Sam, with a world-weary sigh, pulled him upright and proceeded to give him a good scrub and five star polish. Frodo somehow managed to get out of the tub, after a brief moment of panic that he would be eaten by the soap monster, and went to his room to be 'ceremonially' dressed by Sam.
By this time, Bilbo, crotchety old hobbit with many eccentricities, had got up and was complaining loudly about the state of the sink.
There came a loud knock at the door, followed by loud cursing on Bilbo's behalf as he grumbled about the inconvenience of uninvited people. The door exploded. "Must be someone important," Frodo remarked to Sam, "Only important visitors bother knocking the door down."
They walked in on a large argument. "Why can't you open the door like normal people instead of blowing my door to bits! It's the 579th this year!" bellowed Bilbo, covered in plaster.
"It's not my fault you don't have the decency to let the most powerful wizards in Middle earth in!" retorted the ugly and slightly bent form of Gandalf the Grey, a wizard. Gandalf was an old 'friend' of Bilbo, seeing as how he was constantly bringing dwarves with dragon-related problems to do with abandoned treasure and income tax for Bilbo to sort out.
He had come with a large cart full of various mystical/pointless items like the Holy Grail, Excaliber, the Golden fleece, a piece of the true cross, the Goblet of Fire, The Philosopher's Stone and several reprints of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. But the thing that caught Frodo's innocent and childish eyes were the large boxes with the brand name; 'Gandalf the Grey INC' written on them with a price tag going well into 6 figures.
"Gandalf, you brought fireworks!" Sam fussed, "What a terribly dangerous thing to bring! What if Mr Frodo gets hold of one! He might break himself!"
While he was saying this, Sam was keeping tight hold of Frodo's scruff to prevent him from trying to eat one of the fireworks or read the totally awful excuses for books. Gandalf and Bilbo, by this time, had already settled down in the living room, lit their pipes and were having a heated debate about which was better, robes or hobbit shorts.
They also were discussing plans for Bilbo's eleventyfirst (111) birthday party, which was to take place later on that evening. All the hobbits in the Shire were invited as long as they gave him a decent present. It promised to be an evening of fun, food and hobbits getting completely and utterly blasted. Even Frodo's intellectual cousins, Merry and Pippin the legendary walking science dictionaries were invited, but only with gags.
******
It was night and the loud, disturbing and extremely annoying sound of hobbits partying was booming throughout the Shire. Bilbo welcomed those who brought expensive presents and avoided those who didn't. Frodo got his bad self down on the dance floor, attracting many coy looks from the hobbit- girls and jealous looks from Sam, who couldn't dance to save his life or, more importantly, Mr Frodo's. The fact that he did everything else for Frodo did not cancel this out, no matter how hard he tried.
The only female who was not trying to seduce Frodo was Arwen Undomiel, elf princess extraordinaire. Arwen was the millennia old beauty, daughter of Elrond and the only woman for the front of Vogue. She had the looks, style and breasts of a woman who knows how to wow the fashion world. She was sharply intelligent and the best fighter that the world has ever seen, and it will probably stay that way. She was there to make sure the Ring of Power was not lost and to get cheap credit on her mobile.
The Ring of Power, to tell you a brief history, was made by the Dark Lord Sauron to rule Middle Earth. It was made in his dark kingdom of Mordor in the Cracks of Doom (a very bad holiday destination). He almost succeeded but was inconveniently defeated and disembodied by the Last Alliance of Postmen and Dustbinelves. It was supposed to be the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, but they were too busy watching Coronation Street and crying over the death of Ashley Moorecross.
******
Sauron, by this time, had gathered his forces together and was massing in the east, but the hobbits didn't know this, and frankly they didn't care either.
Arwen however did know and did care. "Blasted heels!" she growled as she tripped yet again over her 12 inch stilettos as she attempted the most complicated manoeuvre in the history of dance, the Tripleflipple Gronsendbongle Doublebelly-flip. Considering the fact that she was she was supposed to be saving the world the almost-but-not-quite-indecent miniskirt she was wearing was definitely not practical. It looked like someone had attempted to make it out of virtually no leather at all. As for her top, imagine weaving mercury into material and making it into a loose flighty garment that lifted with the slightest summer breeze.
The hobbits carried on with their merrymaking, seducing and getting well and truly drunk as a skunk old boy! In the background Gandalf slaved away over a hot firework display, whilst trying to seduce any of the eligible females. Actually, any females. None of them were interested in his pointy hat tricks however as they were either busy trying to seduce Frodo or committing murder on the dance floor, cos Gandalf killed the groove, DJ, . . . . What, sorry got a little distracted there for a minute.
Whilst everyone was busy seducing, being drunk or yelling lewd rugby songs, the intellectual Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took had removed their gags in the most scientifically correct way possible (this includes gunpowder, calcium sulphate, 2 volcanoes and orange-flavoured lipstick) and were having a perfectly normal conversation.
"I'm telling you Pippin old boy the reason the explosive quality of the potassium oxide used in the outer coating causes the chemical reaction of ethanol zinc sulphate is that the cocamidopropyl betaine in the hydrochloric acid has solidified state," Merry argued, running out of breath.
"No Merry old chum, that is totally scientifically incorrect because any close friend of Gandalf's would know that he uses the more alkaline solution of 4-chloro-2,4-dibromo-5,5-diiodo-2,3-dimethyl pentanal to enforce a state of salicycline sodium tetraborate in the liquid stored in the calciumated undercoat," Pippin was fighting back!
"Now you're just making it up!"
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
This went on for 30 minutes or so, before they decided to test their theories on the largest and most dangerous firework that Gandalf had. Unfortunately, they had no experience of fireworks which was the main reason this happened:
"Pippin old fruit I rather fancy that the more spikeular end of this scientific investigation should be forced into an orifice in the ground!"
"But Merry old duck I think your good self will discover that the end of this object has been forced into an orifice in the ground, due to the exertion of force I placed upon it to unbalance the forces and enable it to go in the floor!"
"No my dear old chum, I meant outside the vicinity of this canvas covering referred to by the illiterate as a 'tent'. It should not be setting off its chemical reaction in here!"
"I must say my dear old duck-billed platypus that I believe it was your general theory to conduct this experiment!"
While they argued it out, the firework went off and sent a ferocious red dragon that quite unintentionally managed to burn up 12 of the hobbits present before fizzling out. Merry and Pippin turned away from their long and frankly bewildering scientific debate to say; "I say Pippin old ink eraser, that was rather spectacular and in more ways than a scientific view would take it."
"I quite agree my dear old rusty monkey. Let us proceed to partake of another test and this time let us observe it and make notes more conscientiously."
A scabbed and diseased wrinkly old hand clamped around 1 of each of their ears. "Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. I might have known!" Gandalf declared triumphantly, dragging them off to the worst punishment in history. Giving Gandalf's feet a massage!!!!!!!!
***
After 6 hours partying when all the hobbits were either unconscious or inarticulate due to the vast amounts of alcohol they had consumed, Bilbo decided to make his speech, a clever move because everyone was so drunk they wouldn't care what he said.
"My friends, family, and hobbit who's guts I hate," he began, the hobbits all cheered, "I have some things to tell you. One, I hate you all, two, I love 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban', three, I'm drunk doncha know, and finally four, I am leaving!" After dropping his pants in acknowledgement of them all (which was greeted with loud cheers) Bilbo put on the Ring of Power, which he found lying around in a cave once, and disappeared with a loud and very fake ping. Gandalf looked guilty and hid his ping machine behind his back. The hobbits looked slightly confused and then cheered again. It seemed the right thing to do in the situation.
Bilbo then appeared with another ping and said; "I forgot to say: 'I don't know one fifth of you two tenths as a monkey's bum could 3 quarters multiplied by five sixtieths divide 23 by fifty-six one hundredths' and quite frankly I don't care, because apart from Frodo you're all gits. Frodo is just a babyish imbecile with less sense than Britney Spears! Humph!" There was another loud fake ping from Gandalf as Bilbo disappeared again and the crowd proceeded to cheer again and go into another round of lewd songs.
Frodo, not looking too bothered that his favourite relative had referred to him as an imbecile, looked extremely puzzled and said "Britney Spears?" He then went into a loud and very embarrassing tantrum because the hobbit-lass had left make-up all over his mouth. Sam, with various cooing noises, despite looking outrageously jealous due to the fact that Frodo snogged every young girl at the party and he had only got the crazy old bag from Crickhollow, comforted his bawling master.
**************
17 years later, when Frodo had an extensive criminal record (from his continual sweet shop robberies), 25 ex-girlfriends, an enormously inflated sense of pride and still less brains than a fly, Gandalf, that brave old drunk came by for another visit. He drank all the alcohol in Bag End, covered the bath with pondweed, pipeweed and various other weeds and exploded it several times.
One evening, Frodo was sitting in his favourite thinking chair contemplating suicide. And it wasn't because he was seriously depressed or enraged. He just liked the word. It was the very longest word he knew and Sam had uneasily explained it as "Why his parents where in hobbit heaven." After much thought, he had come to the conclusion that Gandalf was feeling a little tense due to the sweat pouring off him in buckets, the continual tears and weeping tantrums and the unusual shrieking noise he was making every 5 minutes.
Suddenly, Gandalf leapt up, streaked into the corridor, hit his head on the chandelier and knocked himself out. "Good," thought Arwen, who was currently perched on the window ledge peering in, "Now we might get some peace!"
Frodo ambled out of the living room, looked down at Gandalf's prostrate form in mild surprise and muttered, "I knew I should have asked Sam to move that thing," before screaming for Sam to get him ready for bed.
With no warning Gandalf leapt five feet in the air and shouted, "DOOM!" in what would have been a very impressive show, had he not staggered, tripped over his robes and fallen headlong into the stack of dirty washing Sam had just lobbed out of the kitchen. Then, for no apparent reason Merry and Pippin stormed in and began having a loud and very heated scientific argument.
"I'm telling you, Merry me old gherkin, the reason that pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconosis affects the indescribably scientifically challenged doofus's that persist in the pointless exercise of mining is that they get carbon molecules trapped in the cavities of the alveoli."
"No, no my dear old monkey nut I believe that the reason that pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconosis affects the indescribably scientifically challenged doofus's that persist in the pointless exercise of mining is that they carry the species marvoliities constromagon into the maw of siliconisis."
"I'm telling you, me old pickled onion...."
This went on for some time, before they agreed to disagree and proceeded to ask Frodo if they could stay for the evening. Considering it was past midnight, this was a bit late coming but they stayed anyway for the booze- up.
******
Eventually, after 2 weeks and a lot of heavy whisky treatment, Gandalf came to his senses. "Frodo, I have something to tell you that is very important."
Frodo totally ignored him and, pulling out a large stick, proceeded to wave it around making various swishing noises. "The Force is with me! Take that Darth Vader! Woohoo!" he yelled and gave Gandalf a good few prods in the unmentionables. Gandalf, with much screaming, crying and whistles, looked at Sam in a rather confused way and scratched his head.
"Do 'ee 'ave loice Mr Gandalfy?" Sam asked producing a large bottle of lice shampoo. He then gave Gandalf's hair and beard such a good scrub that any onlookers would immediately joined the National Lice Defense League.
"No Sam, I'm slightly confused about Frodo's actions, but then I have always had doubts his sanity. Since it is a matter of immense importance I'd better tell you it to give him in a way he will understand. When you do explain it, use puppets to make it clearer. Anyway, that ring that Bilbo gave him is the Ring of Power and it must be taken to Rivendell as soon as possible and discreetly. The spies of Sauron are everywhere."
A loud and ominous chord sounded through the room and the bent evil- looking hunchback who walked like he had a hip problem stood up, dusted the crumbs off his black robes, blinked his red eyes, straightened the neon sign around his neck that said; "Serve Sauron, He's our tyrant, If he can't conquer, No-one.er.will!", and guiltily stalked out the room with a great and unnecessary amount of hissing, taking his cup of tea with him.
Sam glared. "That were moi best choina that was! No-good evil servant of Sauron's darkness!"
Arwen sighed, shook her head in disbelief and hopped off the window ledge to walk off a cramp. "Well that didn't take very long did it now?" If her voice had had any more sarcasm in it, it would have been able to drill its way to Australia. Even though Australia was in a completely different time and reality.
After a large amount of time, and many boring deeds like paying the bill of ownership that you get when you inherit the odd extremely powerful world shattering thing like a Ring of Power, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin got to Bree, via a dodgy taxi service, that Gandalf had recommended. Normally everything that Gandalf recommended was dodgy and if it wasn't you had to beware because it was then either evil, run by a load of perverts, expensive or, more often than not, some kind of cruel joke. Gandalf was like that.
Gandalf had managed to skip all of this by going for a walk and getting kidnapped (or wizardnapped) by Saruman, a fellow wizard who had been corrupted (mind you, most people in Middle-Earth where either evil, imbeciles or continuously drunk and approximately half the population were gay)
*****
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Frodo and his harem of pint-sized boyfriends, er, 'chums' had got to the -5 star inn, The Nancing Pony. They entered and were immediately set upon by 60 or more lawyers. You will notice that we have not bothered to put 'dodgy' because all lawyers are dodgy. If they aren't they have been bribed, drugged, are drunk, or have gone even more mad than other lawyers. Sam shook off the lawyers by offering them some tea. They took this as an insult and began to write arguments to present in court to prosecute him.
Frodo and Sam sat down and ate some dubious cheese, that to the experienced and Arwen's eyes was obviously well past it's sell by date, not to mention stuffed with drugs. Merry and Pippin decided to see how much alcohol intake it would need for then to get totally and utterly blasted. After the first pint, they were up on the table with their underwear on their heads dancing round and singing 'The Grand Old Duke Of York' in scientific terms. We will not even attempt to repeat it or explain it because it was too slurred and too scientifically bewildering for us or anyone else with half a brain to understand.
Frodo looked over to the corner where the dark and mysterious stranger should have been lurking. He wasn't there. He had thrown off his black cape and was dancing on the table. He was wearing a glittery blue body suit and glittery red high-heeled shoes, which clashed dreadfully. His name was Aragorn. You could tell this, by the neon sign that he wore on top of the large union jack hat, which read "Hey you cats! Aragorn, son of Arathorn here! Rightful heir to the throne of Middle-Earth! Oh, and Frodo, I know about the Ring of Power and can help you on your journey to Rivendell! Don't tell anyone! Hang loose man!" It was a very large sign. He was singing a version of Night Fever, it was barely recognisable due to the fact that the name 'Arwen' was mentioned every two words.
Arwen sighed and proceeded to give Aragorn..er..the mysterious stranger a good kicking (which he enjoyed immensely) before throwing him back in his dark corner with his previously cast aside black cloak complaining about men who stole her shoes.
"Oh look at all the pretty bunnies," Frodo commented, staring at Merry, who was crying about the fact the cat wouldn't go on a date with him. Obviously the drugs that had been slipped into their drinks/cheese were beginning to take effect.
Aragorn stood up, weaved his way over to Sam and shouted, "Come on dudes! Let's go and party on!!!" Arwen glared at him from her own patented dark corner (she had refused to share Aragorn's, due to the leather underwear he was waving at her) and he immediately melted. "I mean..come on, let's You- know-what about the you-know-what!"
"What you-know-what?"
"The you-know-what that what's the you!"
"Know?"
"What?"
"You?"
"Who?"
"Yoo-hoo!!!!!" shouted Pippin, who was beginning to lose his grip on reality and his drinks.
After much pointless 'You-know-what'-ing , they finally got up to Aragorn's room. I must now ask you to remove your minds from the gutter. They are NOT doing anything dodgy (but the occupants of the room next-door were getting seriously..OOOOWWW!..sorry, my lawyers tell me I'm not allowed to use language like that in a PG. Even though this is a U. And it's not a film. I'll stop blabbering now and continue the story.)
Aragorn and Merry were dancing a waltz and Frodo and Sam were unconscious on the floor. Pippin was doing the Full Monty. Arwen cut the whole scene and put them all to bed with a mug of warm milk and a pleasant bedtime story. The fact this story explained what had to be done with the Ring has nothing to do with anything. Two hours later, 5 extremely embarrassed wraiths in black tip- toed out the room and ominously, but quietly, stormed away on their demonic steeds, grumbling about "Why can't we ever be on time these days. Fri..er..blasted she-elves."
***********
In the morning, after a hearty breakfast of cocoa beans and myrrh, the company walked out the inn. They then walked back in to pick up their packs, clothes, dolphins and ice skates. Don't ask. They're men. They set off in a North-Easterly direction. After 10 hours of travelling, they reached a pleasant little village with a nice inn called 'The Nancing Pony'. It seemed strangely familiar.
Arwen looked irritated and carried them to Rivendell, having only three problems:- 1. Aragorn misplaced his neon pink underwear. 2. They didn't have enough curry, not that it had been invented or anything and even if it had Arwen wouldn't have been particularly interested, but Frodo refused to eat anything else. Sam solved this problem with the old 'Train-in-the-tunnel' method. 3. The Ringwraiths were stalking Frodo. The companions couldn't turn around without treading on one of the them. The black robes ended up having foot marks all over them. Arwen, after getting fed up with them, chucked sixty-odd plastic rings at them and shot them constantly with a machine gun. We know that's an anachronism but we don't care for technical details and neither does Arwen. If it makes you feel better, it had Elvish inscriptions on it. But it could have been the philosophical writings of a drunk (coughcoughFrodocoughcough).
After some unpleasant dealings with the horses of Ford Bruinen who thought Aragorn was a Wraith, they entered Rivendell. Arwen finally managed to discover the reason for the curry shortage. Frodo had eaten it all. In one night. With too much lager. And apple juice. Oh dear. Obviously he was suffering from severe indigestion. Arwen was fed up with the useless bunch of men and abandoned them at the foyer of Rivendell Hotel with some indigestion tablets.
Rivendell was a beautiful Elvish metropolis. Well, it would be if there were no elves in it. Litter covered muddy pavements and drunks were as common as illegitimate children (who were as common as rain in Britain). The hotel where our..erm..heroes were lodging was a shabby run-down place which over-charged dramatically. Not surprising really since there were no visitors to Rivendell anymore. Come to think of it there never were in the first place.
The..ahem..leader of Rivendell was a half-elf called Smellrond. Did I say that? I meant Elrond, but Smellrond suited him better. He was a really bad leader and only managed to stay in charge because he often ran 'Respect for Gay Elves' campaigns and gave lots of money to Loreal hair products and Maybelline make up factories. He was an old 'friend' of Gandalf's . That means he ran a dodgy night club, overcharged and perved on everybody and was a well-known supplier of cocaine. He was very wise. No, I tell a lie, he wasn't. But he had half a brain cell, which was half a brain cell more than all the other males in this historic event. He called a council to decide the fate of the Ring. He got them there by telling them it was a disco with free drinks and strippers. Male strippers.
The people who attended represented the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. Or at least, the Drug-Addicted and Gay People of Middle Earth. There was Gimli, the whisky freak who constantly moaned about how his wife had left him. After 3 minutes of talking to him, they understood why. Also: Legolas Greenleaf, the gayest gay elf who ever nanced down the pike with all of his beauty kit. Imagine 5 neon pink suitcases with Barbie on them. Boromir from Gondor, a snobbish, smelly, drug crazed and surprisingly greasy haired man with the charm and intellectual capacity of an artichoke. A sad Star Trek watching artichoke. Ignore the anachronism again. Aragorn, glitzy seventies, shoe-stealing, Arwen-obsessed weirdo. Gandalf, wheeler-dealer cheap-magician extraordinary. Frodo, imbecile. Sam, mother hen. Merry and Pippin, scientific geniuses. And Arwen, the best thing that happened in Middle Earth since sliced bread (which, incidentally, she invented.) Arwen was hiding in a dark corner. She favoured the whole dark corner thing. She had no difficulty in not being seen. Then again, neither would an orange dragon with scurvy. Arwen had been forbidden to attend the council. The men had decided it was too intellectual for a girl. They were wrong. Obviously. Her IQ was approximately 556743984628345628465. All of the 8 men above, Legolas and Elrond had the brains of a boiled potato. And that's put together. Scary.
The council opened with Elrond saying, "DOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!" in an ominous voice with much gesturing and pointless staring at all present. Gandalf glared at him. "That's MY phrase. I copyrighted that phrase."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!"
"You startin' something big guy?"
"So what if I am?"
"Sod off!"
"Why don't you?"
This little spar lasted for some time, during which Frodo complained, Sam cooed over Frodo comfortingly, Gimli fell off his chair, Legolas completed his make-up and started giving Gimli a make-over, Merry and Pippin debated about Einstein's theory of Relatively, Aragorn informed Boromir about how wonderful Arwen was and Boromir and Arwen got seriously pissed off about this. Boromir was dying to tell Aragorn about another elf crumpet he'd met and Arwen was embarrassed at how the conversation was veering towards her underwear. No, I tell a lie once again (naughty me!), it was past her underwear. We won't go into detail. You're all dirty enough to know what we're talking about.
Eventually, Elrond and Gandalf finished their argument. Gandalf won, but only because he watched too many John Wayne films and had learned all the catchphrases. Elrond kicked Gimli awake and everyone gasped in surprise. Instead of his normal matted braids of ginger hair (well we think it's hair) and greasy wrinkly skin, a Madonna lookalike with bright pink hair in a miniskirt blinked up from his whisky flooded sleep. Jaws dropped and drooling commenced (Except from Legolas, he was drooling over his own reflection and Arwen, of course, who was disgusted by the display.)
Following six hours of discussion/drooling, the council decided to order several cream teas, whisky, mascara and a pizza. Then they got down to planning about how to get rid of the Ring.
The Suggestions were:- Gimli suggested whisky therapy. He had had one too many, or, to be more precise, 300454302442129 too many. Legolas suggested giving it a make over because it was tacky, predictable and had too little pink floral patterns. His comment was greeted with blinks. Aragorn wanted to use it as a wedding ring for him and Arwen and teach it how to dance. Arwen was flattered but annoyed by her 'fiancé's' idea and hit him with a random statue. Boromir wanted to use it's evil powers to wash his hair, the hair that not even Legolas could clean. Frodo cried and told Sam to get rid of the nasty wasty Ring and get him a new Thomas the Tank Engine toy. Sam said why didn't they melt it down and make a statue of Mr Frodo sir. Merry and Pippin made several plausible suggestions but these were ignored because not one word had less than seven syllables. Gandalf was too busy gloating over how long his toenails were, to everyone's disgust. At the end of this, Arwen was ill with loathing at how daft they were.
They came to the conclusion that all of them, except Arwen because she was a girl and they didn't know she was there no matter how many times she had hit them, and Elrond because he didn't want to and was still pissed off with Gandalf, would go to Mount Doom and get rid of it that way.
The Day of Departure dawned bright and sunny in a kind of foggy rainy kind of a way. Arwen was relieved that the romance scene had been skipped. Frodo took one look outside and sat down, complaining that his nosey-wosey would get cold. Sam cooed over his master. Constantly. We mean ALL day. Very loudly.
So instead, the next day they set out. After 2 yards they sat down to rest, complaining of blisters. Boromir, in a surprising moment of cleverness, announced that they should see what each had brought that could help them on their quest. The Fellowship emptied their pockets.
The list ran thus: Legolas- Only the bare essentials; All his skin care products All his make-up All the 10000000 copies of Vogue with him in All 60 pairs of shoes His neon pink tights All his hair products
Gimli- Whisky Whisky And more Whisky
Boromir- Porn magazines Razor to do his legs Waxing equipment The 'How to Kill Ringbearer and Steal Ring' handbook
Aragorn- Pictures of Arwen Arwen's sexy underwear (Arwen blushes and slaps her fiance) His fluffy kitten, Bob
Frodo- All his Thomas the Tank engine toys, books and videos His pet spoon, Archibald A bag of Wotsits Hobbit-lass's underwear. One of the more desperate hobbit lasses had left it with him at the party. He didn't know what to do with it.
Sam- Sandwiches- Whisky for Gimli Make-up for Legolas Shampoo for Boromir (He fervently believed it would clean his hair) Arwen's toenail clippings for Aragorn (She was being sick at this point) Thomas the Tank Engine shaped curry for Frodo Scientific dictionaries for Merry and Pippin Something dodgy looking labelled 'Toenail lengthener' and firework insides for Gandalf Frodo's hair clippings for himself.
Merry and Pippin- All their scientific supplies
Gandalf was last to show them his supplies. He pulled down his trousers/robes and yanked a leaflet out of one of the concealed pockets in his thong. He examined it carefully and stood up, lifting the leaflet above his head, proclaiming, "We shall take the..BUS!!!"
The Fellowship backed away from the wizard, who pulled up his trousers/pullled down his robes and started to run South. After a few minutes they shrugged and followed the loony..I mean wizard.
Their paths led them to a run-down and (den den DEEEN!) dodgy looking bus shelter. Gandalf was sat outside, leering over his toenails again. Aragorn struck a pose and cried, "Verily, we forsooth thine road for a pompernickle!"
Arwen cringed and slapped he forehead in despair. She had been following the company since Riverndell and was, by now, wishing she could kill herself. She can't. Not because of a lack of weapons, but because we, with our authoress powers (Powers..powers..powers..) have decided to keep her in the story.
A creaky bus rattled its way into view. The driver was dressed in black robes and had a suspiciously high screaming voice and a black horse with a neon sign saying 'Property of Ringwraith number 6' was sat on the back row, grinning insanely.
Gandalf gaily trotted over and shouted, "Hail, jolly evil driver! We need a lift to (Gandalfs voice gets deep and spooky) MORDOR!!!!!!!"
The driver took a ciggarette out of his mou..erm..hood and leered (which of course is impossible if you are a faceless demon, but he managed quite well) "I can give you a lift to (Voice goes deep and spooky) MORDOR!!!!"
"Then we want 9 tickets to (Gandalfs voice gets deep and spooky yet again) MORDOR!!!!"
"All aboard for (Voice goes.oh sod it, you get the point!) MORDOR!!!!"
Arwen was fed up of the whole 'deep voice' thing and threw the Fellowship into the bus before elegantly leaping onto the roof. She was perfectly well aware that the driver was a Ringwraith, but the burned hand teaches best. And anyway, she was annoyed with Aragorn for forgetting their anniversary (Well..she wasn't ..but you've got to be mad sometimes) and couldn't stand listening to their conversations again. She had more enjoyment being forced to talk to death lawyers and door-to-door salesmen. She was also fed up of saving their butts everytime they got into trouble.
The bus driver soon got tired of them singing 'The wheels on the bus' (Frodo had insisted) and revealed his true self. The deadly leader of the Rabid Killer Maths Teachers Association Trademark Patent Applied For (From now on know as the RKMTA, because I really can't be bothered to type it again). He was also Nazgul number 6. He made a reach to steal the Ring off Frodo, only to have Sam clobber him with a whisky sandwich.
At the sight of this, Gimli's heart did break, or at least mildly shatter in several small ways. He leapt at his foe with a terrifying roar/sob/slur/cry of "My whisky!!!". When Gimli had finished with him, Nazgul number 6 was no more than an empty pile of robes with no soul, lacking in limbs and drained dry of whisky. Frodo started to cry. Again.
Legolas leapt up, brushing his hair wildly, crying "Fear not, Brief Mortals, for I know how to drive!" Legolas donned his bus driving costume and they drove away into the setting sun. Well, they would have done if they hadn't crashed into the nearest lamppost. Eventually, after much argument, they decided to scrap the bus and hire a taxi. It then took about five days to trek back to Rivendell to find a telephone book. Elrond was paralytic by this time, having drunk too much booze on his 'Gandalf's- finally-gone!' binge. Arwen was bashing her head against the wall and making plans for her own execution.
Following this diversity, Frodo stole Elrond's pension fund and booked himself a five-star weekend in Paris with Sam and a trip to Disneyland.
Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn went on a boy's night out, got plastered and woke up in the morning in compromising positions on the sofa with a distinct lack of clothing. The National Hero Defence League hushed this up. Arwen, contrary to belief, really didn't care, as she had never been in love with Aragorn, but she dumped him anyway, just to break his heart.
Pippin and Merry went on to win several Nobel prizes and invent all scientific laws known today. This was also hushed up, this time by the world's leading scientists. Pippin and Merry had a clear disadvantage on the case, being fictional characters and extremely short.
Gandalf won numerous prizes for his abnormally long toenails.
Boromir suffered from Greasilitus, before getting shot by a stray bulle.arrow when he was crossing the road one day.
Arwen herself went to Mordor, destroyed the Ring, and subsequently saved Middle Earth. She then settled down to a quiet life killing people, uncovering crooked governments and saving lives as the top agent at the FBI and numerous other secret organisations. She refused to be seduced by James Bond, but that's another story.
And they all lived happily ever to the end of their days ............................... ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ............................................................................ ........................................................ What the hell am I talking about? They all got ripped off, became gay icons, were sued for fraud, repulsed by all and kicked out of their various clubs.
Arwen was the only one who had a happy ending. Think of her as you disconnect from the Internet. She will be gracefully ramming her gun somewhere dark that will make it impossible for her enemy to walk, while the setting sun picks out the ramshackle and polluted beauty spots of Middle Earth.
The Road Goes Ever On And On..Especially If You Are A Female Elf With Attitude.
Have a nice day! ^_^
Oh, and REVIEW PLEASE!(