Title: Lord of the Things
Rating: PG-13 (for sexual references, violence and mild language.)
Summary: In a time of peril, many characters converge with a common goal in mind.
What is this goal? Who cares, there's lots of violence, silliness, and downright
oddities which can never be explained. What's not to like?
Disclaimer: See first chapter.
Part I: The Fellowship of the Thing
A beautiful grassy knoll, in the middle of a beautiful Nobbiton summer. Birds are chirping, dogs barking, and a couple of jack rabbits were goin at it like...well, uh...jackrabbits. Mojo Scraggins was sitting by a tree reading People Magazine. Wait, where is he? Yo Mojo!!! Where you at? Oh, there he is. He's kinda hairy...dude get a razor and shave yoself! Anywoo, he's reading and here comes Randolf the Maroon...right about...NOW!
Randolf singing very fast
cried Mojo.
Shut up, I'm not done!!!!! LALALALALALALALALALALAAAAAAA la!
There was a long pause.
Go ahead, lumpy.
You're late, Randolf.
A wizard is never...uh...oh where is my g.d. script?!
Right here, Mr. the Maroon.
Who the hell are you?
I'm Pete! They wouldn't let me in the movie, so I'm a Grip now.
Grip this, you boob! Randolf replied.
Ok this scene is really gay from here on. Let's just skip to the good stuff. Ah, here's a beauty. Elbow and Randolf meet to discuss the long expected kegger.
Randolf...dude, it's been like so long! Let's get lit and put on my magic oven mitt! Hey, I'm a poet and didn't know it! said Elbow.
Sounds righteous! So what's with Mojo? He's such a hoser!
I know, he's such a douchebag. I don't know why I put up with him anymore.
Cause he makes your sandwiches.
Oh yeah! Can't live without my ham and swiss on rye!
Elbow...you must give me the oven mitt.
said Elbow, dissapointedly. What for?
I'm baking cookies next week.
Oh, well, then you'll need it, or else you'll burn your hand, you naughty boy!
Say what?
Nothing. So how's Mrs. the Maroon?
That ol' bag? She's making it with the pool boy every day. Randolf said, disgusted.
Who's your pool boy?
I am, but I get really tired after a while. It sucks. He grinned.
Well, I'm turning 1,284 this month.
Wow, a milestone! Really?
Nah, I'm 48, but it wow's the tourists. I got boils on my feet older than me!
Well this should be a night to remember.
Not really. I'll be so bombed I won't even remember any of this.
*R/R, please.
