(A/N- I AM SO SORRY! I'm an idiot! I'l try SOOO hard to get another chapter
up sooner! Pwease forgive me!)
The boys all kept shooting me weird looks after my comment on Boromir's sexual activities with Orcs. Particularly since they seemed to be absolutely clueless as to what sucking Orc dick entailed. People in Middle- Earth were so pure it was unnerving.
"Pretty Elfy," I said in my singsongiest (well, it's a word now!!!) tone, braiding his long blond hair. Yeah, we were still waiting for Merlin to get jazzed enough on his weed to decide where to go. Note to self: establish Middle-Earth rehab system. Gandalf's way too dependent on his pot.
"Pleeeeeeeeease, can I kill her?" Boromir begged.
"No," Aragorn said firmly. Boromir scowled.
"She said your hair was greasy, I'll have you know," he grumbled, slumping down.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts," I informed, glaring at him. Hey, it's hard to say that without laughing! And all I got was a few lousy confused stares! I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue at Boromir, then figured it was a good time to motivate Gandalf to move his ancient ass.
"Hey, old guy!" I called. "Can we go now? It's that way, ya know," I added, pointing down the path they'd gone into in the movie. I was well rested, and I now felt woozy from food deprivation, so this was as good a time as any to hightail it to Lothlorien. Where there are Elves, there are tall, thin, beautiful people and food. Food was the motivation, as the only attractive Elf in The Lord of The Rings was already in my vacinity. And I was too hungry to even drool over him! Curse this wretched fate! Uh, anyway...
"Hmm. So it is," Gandalf agreed, eyeing me suspiciously.
"WHAT?! The Elf told you I was psychic!" I pointed dramatically at the old wizard. "Thou shalt not doubt the word of Legolas! Or me. So let's get off our idealistic asses and go down that there tunnel." Nobody moved. "Do I have to get PMS on y'all? MOVE OUT!" NOW the boys scampered. Maybe having one's period isn't such a bad thing... Certainly get's things done.
***
"I'm hungry," I whined as we made our way through that big old...place with...lotsa pillars. Okay, so I wasn't exactly LISTENING to Gandalf when he told us what it was called. I was paying too much attention to my empty stomach and dry mouth.
"If you continue to complain, I can't promise that I won't put a gag on you," Boromir grumbled. "Annoying little brat."
"Yeah? Well...well, in a few minutes I'll come up with a very clever, biting retort, and THEN you'll be sorry," I informed, waiting for the said brilliant comeback to pop into my head. My mind was empty.
"Well? Where's your sarcastic remark?" he taunted. I scowled and kicked him in the shin.
"I'm too hungry and dehydrated to think at the moment, thank you," I grumbled. "Oohhhh, I need something to eeeeaaaaat," I moaned. "Can't Gandalf magic us up some food?"
"No," the wizard replied.
"What's the use of a wizard if he can't conjure a pizza?" I sulked, crossing my arms over my chest and stomping my foot. Hey, if they were already convinced that I was immature and bratty, I may as well have fun acting the part.
"What's a pizza?" Pippin chirped. I have a feeling my eyes glazed over with longing.
"Pizza is food from my homeland," I informed. "You've got this crust, then you smother it with tomato sauce, and cheese, and sausages, and olives, and pepperoni, and basically whatever the hell you want. Ooohhh, I'd do just about anything for a pizza right now... or a cheeseburger... or a steak and cheese sub...or-"
"You're making the rest of us hungry," Merry groaned miserably. "Stop talking about food."
"Not my fault you guys packed everything BUT non-perishable food," I accused. "Wait, I take that back. You didn't pack soap, either, resulting in a few of us - who shall remain nameless - carrying with them the pleasant odor of wet dog," I added, glaring pointedly at Boromir. He glared back. I made a face at him. He drew his sword, and had it wrestled away from him by my boys Aragorn and Legolas.
"Oh, come on, would you miss her?" Boromir demanded. "Just let me cut an arm off, please? A hand? A finger?" And, to add insult to ego-injury,
"You're such a child, Boromir," Aragorn sighed, shaking his head. I chuckled evilly as Boromir sulked.
"You gonna cry, Boromir?" I taunted quietly, poking him. "You gonna cry? You gonna cry? You gonna cry?"
"You'd better sleep with one eye open, you little monster," he growled. I faked a whimper and clung to Aragorn.
"He's threatening me, Master Chief, sir," I pouted. He glared at Boromir, who now looked as though his rights had been severely violated.
"Haha, you suck!" I mouthed, pointing at him behind Aragorn's back. More glaring. Hoo boy, this was fun. I more or less skipped along, occasionally pulling someone's hair (hey, they all have it long! The temptation was too great!), until we got to the room where Gimli has his emotional breakdown. And break down he did. Man, it is UGLY to see a grown Dwarf cry. So ugly, in fact, that looking at Frodo's buggy eyes, chipmunk cheeks, and thick neck would have been more appealing. But, only hypothetically, because my time was much better spent babysitting our resident dumbass, Pippin.
"Don't touch that," I commanded over and over again, as Gandalf read his little passage out of that book. I, personally, would not wish to touch anything a decaying Dwarf had been clutching, but to each his own.
"'Drums, drums in the deep,'" Gandy read off, with unnecessary dramatic inflection. "'We cannot get out. They are coming.'" The boys (excepting the still-weeping Gimli) stared at him in...I dunno, reverence or something.
"Nice bedtime story, old guy," I said. "Thanks." He gave me a look, and I turned around just in time to grab Pippin's chubby little hand away from that skeleton he was supposed to knock down. "You are one stupid little shit," I informed. He gave me this wide-eyed, innocent look.
"But, I just wanted to see what-"
"You know what would have happened as soon as you touched that?" I quizzed. "It would have fallen down that well, and made a big bang. Then the drumming would start, then the Orcs would come along with their huge- ass cave troll - who Elfy would take out with an arrow in the mouth, but not before it tried to skewer Frodo - and we'd be running from Orcs, right? Then, we'd get into this big pillary place, and - OH NO! - the ugly bastards would catch up to us, and get around us in this big pack and then you'd be one SAD LITTLE HOBBIT!" I took a few deep breaths (having said all that in only one), and noticed that everyone was staring at me, and Pippin looked absolutely terrified.
"Go on," Gandalf prompted.
"...Okay, did that, or did that not prompt you guys in the slightest to get out of here before Pippin does something else worthy of a Stupid Award?" The taller members of the group discussed this, while the Hobbits did their respective 'sad' faces and Gimli kept sniffling over the death of his cousin-dude.
"I do think it would be in our best interest to leave this place as soon as possible," Aragorn stated. Well, somebody listened to me.
"Good decision," I replied, applauding silently. "Now, let's pack up the short guys and shove off, shall we?"
"I still hold that we should gag the child," Boromir growled.
"We will do nothing of the sort," Gandy informed in his 'tough' voice. "She has supplied us with valuable information. I am sure that her visions will continue to assist us." I was confused for a minute, then remembered that I was supposed to be a psychic.
"Oh, yeah! Yeah, totally, visions. 'Cause, you know, that's what we clairvoyants do, right? Uh, let's go now, okay?"
And with that frantically babbled lie, we set off toward (drumroll) Khazad-Dum.
(A/N- again, I apologize, but...yeah. Heh, cliffhanger of sorts, see?)
The boys all kept shooting me weird looks after my comment on Boromir's sexual activities with Orcs. Particularly since they seemed to be absolutely clueless as to what sucking Orc dick entailed. People in Middle- Earth were so pure it was unnerving.
"Pretty Elfy," I said in my singsongiest (well, it's a word now!!!) tone, braiding his long blond hair. Yeah, we were still waiting for Merlin to get jazzed enough on his weed to decide where to go. Note to self: establish Middle-Earth rehab system. Gandalf's way too dependent on his pot.
"Pleeeeeeeeease, can I kill her?" Boromir begged.
"No," Aragorn said firmly. Boromir scowled.
"She said your hair was greasy, I'll have you know," he grumbled, slumping down.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts," I informed, glaring at him. Hey, it's hard to say that without laughing! And all I got was a few lousy confused stares! I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue at Boromir, then figured it was a good time to motivate Gandalf to move his ancient ass.
"Hey, old guy!" I called. "Can we go now? It's that way, ya know," I added, pointing down the path they'd gone into in the movie. I was well rested, and I now felt woozy from food deprivation, so this was as good a time as any to hightail it to Lothlorien. Where there are Elves, there are tall, thin, beautiful people and food. Food was the motivation, as the only attractive Elf in The Lord of The Rings was already in my vacinity. And I was too hungry to even drool over him! Curse this wretched fate! Uh, anyway...
"Hmm. So it is," Gandalf agreed, eyeing me suspiciously.
"WHAT?! The Elf told you I was psychic!" I pointed dramatically at the old wizard. "Thou shalt not doubt the word of Legolas! Or me. So let's get off our idealistic asses and go down that there tunnel." Nobody moved. "Do I have to get PMS on y'all? MOVE OUT!" NOW the boys scampered. Maybe having one's period isn't such a bad thing... Certainly get's things done.
***
"I'm hungry," I whined as we made our way through that big old...place with...lotsa pillars. Okay, so I wasn't exactly LISTENING to Gandalf when he told us what it was called. I was paying too much attention to my empty stomach and dry mouth.
"If you continue to complain, I can't promise that I won't put a gag on you," Boromir grumbled. "Annoying little brat."
"Yeah? Well...well, in a few minutes I'll come up with a very clever, biting retort, and THEN you'll be sorry," I informed, waiting for the said brilliant comeback to pop into my head. My mind was empty.
"Well? Where's your sarcastic remark?" he taunted. I scowled and kicked him in the shin.
"I'm too hungry and dehydrated to think at the moment, thank you," I grumbled. "Oohhhh, I need something to eeeeaaaaat," I moaned. "Can't Gandalf magic us up some food?"
"No," the wizard replied.
"What's the use of a wizard if he can't conjure a pizza?" I sulked, crossing my arms over my chest and stomping my foot. Hey, if they were already convinced that I was immature and bratty, I may as well have fun acting the part.
"What's a pizza?" Pippin chirped. I have a feeling my eyes glazed over with longing.
"Pizza is food from my homeland," I informed. "You've got this crust, then you smother it with tomato sauce, and cheese, and sausages, and olives, and pepperoni, and basically whatever the hell you want. Ooohhh, I'd do just about anything for a pizza right now... or a cheeseburger... or a steak and cheese sub...or-"
"You're making the rest of us hungry," Merry groaned miserably. "Stop talking about food."
"Not my fault you guys packed everything BUT non-perishable food," I accused. "Wait, I take that back. You didn't pack soap, either, resulting in a few of us - who shall remain nameless - carrying with them the pleasant odor of wet dog," I added, glaring pointedly at Boromir. He glared back. I made a face at him. He drew his sword, and had it wrestled away from him by my boys Aragorn and Legolas.
"Oh, come on, would you miss her?" Boromir demanded. "Just let me cut an arm off, please? A hand? A finger?" And, to add insult to ego-injury,
"You're such a child, Boromir," Aragorn sighed, shaking his head. I chuckled evilly as Boromir sulked.
"You gonna cry, Boromir?" I taunted quietly, poking him. "You gonna cry? You gonna cry? You gonna cry?"
"You'd better sleep with one eye open, you little monster," he growled. I faked a whimper and clung to Aragorn.
"He's threatening me, Master Chief, sir," I pouted. He glared at Boromir, who now looked as though his rights had been severely violated.
"Haha, you suck!" I mouthed, pointing at him behind Aragorn's back. More glaring. Hoo boy, this was fun. I more or less skipped along, occasionally pulling someone's hair (hey, they all have it long! The temptation was too great!), until we got to the room where Gimli has his emotional breakdown. And break down he did. Man, it is UGLY to see a grown Dwarf cry. So ugly, in fact, that looking at Frodo's buggy eyes, chipmunk cheeks, and thick neck would have been more appealing. But, only hypothetically, because my time was much better spent babysitting our resident dumbass, Pippin.
"Don't touch that," I commanded over and over again, as Gandalf read his little passage out of that book. I, personally, would not wish to touch anything a decaying Dwarf had been clutching, but to each his own.
"'Drums, drums in the deep,'" Gandy read off, with unnecessary dramatic inflection. "'We cannot get out. They are coming.'" The boys (excepting the still-weeping Gimli) stared at him in...I dunno, reverence or something.
"Nice bedtime story, old guy," I said. "Thanks." He gave me a look, and I turned around just in time to grab Pippin's chubby little hand away from that skeleton he was supposed to knock down. "You are one stupid little shit," I informed. He gave me this wide-eyed, innocent look.
"But, I just wanted to see what-"
"You know what would have happened as soon as you touched that?" I quizzed. "It would have fallen down that well, and made a big bang. Then the drumming would start, then the Orcs would come along with their huge- ass cave troll - who Elfy would take out with an arrow in the mouth, but not before it tried to skewer Frodo - and we'd be running from Orcs, right? Then, we'd get into this big pillary place, and - OH NO! - the ugly bastards would catch up to us, and get around us in this big pack and then you'd be one SAD LITTLE HOBBIT!" I took a few deep breaths (having said all that in only one), and noticed that everyone was staring at me, and Pippin looked absolutely terrified.
"Go on," Gandalf prompted.
"...Okay, did that, or did that not prompt you guys in the slightest to get out of here before Pippin does something else worthy of a Stupid Award?" The taller members of the group discussed this, while the Hobbits did their respective 'sad' faces and Gimli kept sniffling over the death of his cousin-dude.
"I do think it would be in our best interest to leave this place as soon as possible," Aragorn stated. Well, somebody listened to me.
"Good decision," I replied, applauding silently. "Now, let's pack up the short guys and shove off, shall we?"
"I still hold that we should gag the child," Boromir growled.
"We will do nothing of the sort," Gandy informed in his 'tough' voice. "She has supplied us with valuable information. I am sure that her visions will continue to assist us." I was confused for a minute, then remembered that I was supposed to be a psychic.
"Oh, yeah! Yeah, totally, visions. 'Cause, you know, that's what we clairvoyants do, right? Uh, let's go now, okay?"
And with that frantically babbled lie, we set off toward (drumroll) Khazad-Dum.
(A/N- again, I apologize, but...yeah. Heh, cliffhanger of sorts, see?)