A/N: If you haven't been to see Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey's
Circus, you haven't truly seen The Greatest Show on Earth. Their
performances are outstanding. No, Legolas won't be in the one you get to
see, for once is truly enough for me to watch THAT, but I promise you will
enjoy it all the same. My disclaimer is that to see marvelous acts like
those mentioned here, you will just have to go and see their fantastic
show. I make no money or profit from promoting them shamelessly in this
chapter.
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Chapter 5 The Show Must Go On
The tall clown in the rainbow stripes gives me a wink, followed by a perfect imitation of the Thranduil eyebrow.
Well, he's certainly not missing the show, is he?
With the act completed, off they go in a cloud of fog.
"Well?" says Yes Dear.
"Yeah, what're you gonna do about THIS, Mom?" asks Little Pip.
I contemplate for awhile before concluding, "I'm going to watch the rest of the show," settling down and leaning back in my seat.
"Really?" says Yes Dear, giving me his own version of the Thranduil eyebrow.
Ignoring them both, I return my attention to the three rings. There are a dozen or so Chinese Lions leaping and weaving throughout the arena. Each "lion" is made up of two acrobats with a colorful costume of gold, orange, and fiery red connecting them together. They are fierce looking, and capable of some awesome feats of flexibility and balance. The most impressive thing is when two of the lion pairs climb upon two giant blue balls, rolling them to meet each other, and then another lion pair leaps on top way up high and they all roll around the ring. The act is absolutely fascinating, and is over much sooner than I want it to be.
The next act to come out to the three rings is an equestrian one. All three rings are filled with jet black and snow white horses, dressed in glittering turquoise blue trappings and headpieces with tall plumy feathers on them. Three trainers dressed in white tuxedos with matching turquoise accessories and glittering top hats are present, one in the center of each ring. Two of the trainers have long whips they are using to signal the horses. Occasionally the horses' ears flick backward and they toss their heads, appearing to be a bit irritated with each other.
The third trainer, the one with the fringe of blond hair peeking out from underneath his top hat in the ring directly in front of our seats, has no whip. In fact, he holds nothing at all in his hands. The four white and four black horses under his command are watching him with rapt attention, ears perked forward and eyes glued to him.
I watch mesmerized as the horses weave in and out amongst each other in elaborate patterns, all the while keeping an ear cocked toward the trainer. He, in contrast, stands perfectly still. Without a single visible clue, all of the horses suddenly line themselves up with their front hooves on the foot-high ring railing facing outwards. That is, all but one.
The prettiest snow white mare, the one who has been stepping the highest and perking her ears the most, stands facing her trainer. Almost imperceptibly, he dips his head to her and motions with it toward the other horses. Just as subtly, she shakes her head side to side, "No". Even with the glittering turquoise top hat on I can see him give her the Thranduil eyebrow. She shakes her head again, "No."
He sighs.
She stares, waiting.
He puts his hands together in a prayer of supplication.
She continues gazing at him, then dips her head, nodding toward her feet and looking at the ground in front of her.
His eyes widen as if he can't believe what she is asking of him.
She bats her long eyelashes at him.
He rolls his eyes heavenward, throws up his hands and shrugs his shoulders. The shoulders then fall in a slump. He drops to one knee in front of her. If she were two-legged, I would swear he was asking for her hoof in marriage.
After a very pregnant pause, I swear she smiles and winks at him. Then she turns and joins the other horses at the ring railing.
As he rises to his feet again, the horses break rank and begin processing around the ring once more, stopping every four hoofbeats to spin around in a circle. As the performance comes to an end, one by one the horses each circle around and head out of the ring. The last to leave is the beautiful white mare. She stops center-ring and faces him once again.
He smiles encouragingly at her, his big blue eyes asking nicely for her cooperation.
She holds her ground.
The blue eyes change, the facial expression becomes more of a plea.
She shakes her head, "No, I'm having WAY too much fun with this," she seems to say.
The other two rings are now empty. The arena is darkening; the next act is waiting. The spotlight operator seizes this opportunity and focuses the sole remaining light on the relationship in the only occupied ring. The two of them are bathed in the light like lovers in the moon's glow.
She waits.
He watches.
She tosses her pretty head, her mane bouncing, making a 'come-hither' motion to him with her nose.
He raises his right hand, pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes," she nods, batting her eyelashes faster. She side-steps slightly, sashaying her hips and swishing her tail.
Obediently, he steps forward until they are a mere foot apart.
She shakes her head, "No."
"What?" he mouths, hands spread wide and shoulders shrugging.
Raising her head, she gently takes the brim of his glittering turquoise top hat in her teeth, lifting it from his head and allowing his long blond hair to fall to his shoulders. She lowers the hat and taps it against his left hand, indicating that he should take it from her.
He blushes, bowing his head and whispering, "Sorry, I forgot."
She smiles, and then takes one step forward to bump her forehead against his. He brings his arms up, locking them around her neck in a tender embrace, and then, eyes closed, he lowers his lips to kiss her ever so gently and tenderly between her big brown eyes.
She shudders from nose to tail.
He lifts his head and laughs aloud, delighting in her response.
She lowers herself with her right foreleg daintily outstretched and her left foreleg bent in the prettiest princess curtsey I have ever seen, paying homage to the love of her life. Rising, she winks at him before spinning her hindquarters around and giving him another close up look at her tail-swishing maneuver. He responds by giving her a little smack on the hindquarters with the top hat, and then joins her in running from the ring into the waiting darkness.
The stagehands have been working quickly to assemble a large wire mesh ball, close to twelve feet in diameter, which they push into the center ring. A group of motorcyclists are zipping around the perimeter of the arena, and soon they line up facing the gigantic wire cage. A door opens out from its side, creating a ramp, and three of the motorcyclists file in. Once the door is closed, they begin to ride inside the ball, around and around and even upside down across the top. They are so close together it's a wonder they don't knock helmets with each other as one of them takes a turn to break out of line and circle overhead.
They slow to a crawl and come to rest together at the bottom of the ball. Amid thunderous applause, the door opens, but rather than change riders, a fourth motorcyclist enters the ball. Soon four of them are spinning madly inside the metal wire ball. Once again they crawl to a stop and huddle together at the bottom of the ball. The door opens again, and one cyclist exits. Two more enter, and in an insane display of ability, there are now five cyclists madly whirling inside the giant ball. The tires of the bikes are mere centimeters from each other, and there doesn't seem to be a square inch of interior space of the mesh that hasn't been covered. If one of them misses by a fraction of an inch, there will be a disaster.
The audience, though appreciative, seems disappointed there was no wreck when they come to a stop again. That is, until the curtain at the entrance of the arena opens and yet another motorcyclist comes riding out.
"You don't think. . . ," Little Pip starts to say.
"No way!" exclaims Yes Dear. "He hasn't even tried to ride Pip's regular bike at home yet!"
The cyclist roars up to the wire cage ball and rolls up the ramp, squeezing in amidst the other five riders. They rev the engines, moving slightly forward and back until each nods his readiness to the others.
"This is totally insane," mutters Yes Dear.
"Dad, you think that might be. . . ," the rest of Little Pip's sentence is drowned out by the ear splitting rumble of six motorcycles traveling at high speed, all within a twelve-foot diameter metal wire-mesh ball.
I am shell shocked and totally speechless. One small slip up and total disaster is at hand, right in front of my eyes. Visions of glass doors and Sea Pee Ar, cockroach attacks, and dodging cars while running after the ice cream truck flash before my eyes. How much luck can the life of one immortal hold?
Unable to stand it anymore, I bury my head in my hands, fearing to watch any further lest my heart stop beating in my chest.
When the blast of engine sounds fades to a mild drone, I chance a peek through my fingers to see all six of the cyclists lined up before the cheering audience. I am no longer certain which one is the tallest and thinnest, for in my panic I have taken my eyes off the last one to enter, and now their body sizes are far too similar for me to distinguish one from the other. I watch, holding my breath, as the six of them begin to take off their helmets and wave to the crowd. One, two, three, four with short black hair and Hispanic features. Two to go. . . .
Neither of them is Legolas.
My heart has had all it can take. I just wish he'd come safely back to his seat now. No such luck, for as the lights dim and the cyclists leave, the tiger act takes over.
Snarling teeth, slashing claws, and fiery hoops later, there is still no further sign of the Prance. I cannot tell you how relieved I am.
The stage hands have covered the ring in front of us with some type of blue plastic matting, and inside the ring now sits a picnic table and a longer table with what looks like a double-bowled kitchen sink. Both of the bowls are filled to the rim with some type of white liquid substance that looks like marshmallow crème. There is also a bright yellow fifty-five gallon trash container full of the same stuff sitting just inside the ring, and a couple of one-gallon metal buckets sitting beside it. I suppose the little buckets are for refilling the sink bowls with whatever is contained in the industrial sized bucket.
Once again, they send in the clowns.
Dressed alike in black and white striped referee shirts and black pants with whistles around their necks, four of them come running and bouncing into the ring, blowing their whistles and generally making as much noise and havoc as possible. While they run around acting more like cheerleaders than referees, the oversized lady clown once again makes her appearance. This time she is dressed to play the part of the Headmistress of the Clown Referee Training School. Her referee dress is covered with very wide stripes to match her extra size, and her bright red wig is covered with a matching baseball cap. Emblazoned across the back where the player's name goes is the title "The Training Instructor" and around her neck is the biggest whistle I think I have ever seen. When she blows it, it dominates the arena, making the other whistles look like the plastic child's toys that they are.
"Time for lunch!" the narrator announces in perfect lip synch with The Training Instructor.
The four students crowd and rush each other at the picnic table, fighting over the seats and pulling each other's hair. When she blows the whistle a second time, they sit like little angels at the table, all proper manners and folded hands in laps.
The Training Instructor turns her back and goes to the kitchen sink table to pick up a stack of lunch trays. As she turns away, the chaos at the table begins anew.
She stops.
They stop, frozen in place.
She continues, and they take turns pushing and shoving and dashing around until none of them is sitting in the same place that they were before. When she turns around, lunch trays in hand, there they sit, hands folded in laps, angelic smiles in place.
She gives each of them a lunch tray, which actually looks more like an oblong sheet cake pan about 3 inches deep. Per her excellent instructions, they proceed to line up and process over to the kitchen sink area. Every time she looks away, no matter where she looks, one of them takes some advantage of the other, pushing or shoving, tapping on shoulders, or something. Legolas is the second one in line, and he takes a mighty jerk to one of his long pigtails from one of them, hard enough to pull him out of line, but he seems unfazed.
The Training Instructor takes a large soup ladle from a drawer in the table with the kitchen sink and proceeds to ladle the white liquid into each of the lunch trays. She motions with the ladle for each of the students to return to their places at the picnic table as she fills the trays up.
I know what you're thinking. Fat chance of that going along smoothly, right?
Right.
The first student makes it safely to the picnic table, but Legolas gets tripped by the third and before long there is total melee going on. His lunch tray flips into the air and the contents land sloppily right in the lap of the first clown. The third clown finds this funny, so Legolas reaches out and tips that tray up to splash him in the face. The fourth clown is engaging The Training Instructor in a heated argument about how much of the liquid stuff is too much to put into his tray, and is effectively buying time for the first clown to grab Legolas by the collar and toss him sliding down the length of the picnic table through the slippery mess they have made. He rolls off the end of the table and bounds back into the fray. That is about the time the audience realizes that the white liquid is really soap bubbles.
By this time, there enough liquid in the ring and bubbles in the air to send everyone sprawling. The Training Instructor is trying to gain the upper hand by blowing the huge whistle around her neck, but no such luck. Before long, the kitchen sink liquid is gone, and the four students have each grabbed a metal bucket and are having the time of their lives scooping soap bubbles out of the 55 gallon container and soaking each other good.
With one last ear-splitting blow on the giant whistle, suddenly everyone freezes. They stand, dripping and staring at each other. Without warning, two of the students grab The Training Instructor and toss her upside down into the liquid that is left in the industrial sized container, revealing her bright red hot pants hidden underneath her referee dress. The third clown joins Legolas in snatching up one of the metal buckets sitting on the side of the ring, and both of them run headlong at the audience. Legolas heads straight for me, and I can see the mischievous devilment in his merry elven eyes as he cocks the bucket back, aiming straight at my head.
"NOOOOO!!!" I hear myself scream as he tosses the contents of the bucket at me.
A cloud of white paper confetti rains down on me. Legolas laughs gleefully, then leans over to give me a soggy hug.
"Dere'z a paertie fur all da kloewnz aftur da shoew!" he says in my ear. "Wate hear an I weel com git u, okae?"
Before I can ask how he got invited in the first place, he is gone.
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A/N: Now, don't all of you want to come live at my house??
Thanks go to PuterPatty, Grammar Laedee, and TreeHugger for their help with this one. You guys rock!
*al runs through the crowd, handing out paper towels and drool cups* Ok, let the show really begin!
INTRODUCING, FOR YOUR PLEASURE:
LUB LEDDERS FRUM LEGOLAS
Hae eberybuddie! Skuze me a sekont . . . * pueshz refeel roell oentu tikit dispaensur* I dunno hoew meeny tiemz I hav feeled dis thaeng dis weak! PuterPatty, u bedder giv sum of dose tikits bak! Hearz a tikit fur eech of u neu faengurlz. . . * haendz ouet tikitz* *smakz PP'z ouetstraetchd haend AGIN! * Noew, on wid da shoew!
Michelle: * haendz u sum moer of my choklit* U doen't luuk week, mel nin. *keesez u * Hoew abot noew?
Newmoon: Ar dose ur baybee Balrog breechiz? I lub dem! We ar duein Annie dis suemmr tu! * cueddlz*
Vladimirs Angel: * huegz* Hae! Dat'z my koemb! Giv dat bak!
Angaloth: I lub u tu! U doen't hav tu bea soerrie, u ar hear noew and datz whut kowntz. *skweeze *
Magical Rachel: * ketchez keesiz* Buet I DUE nead dese keesiz, melethrin! I deed like bean a kloewn fur a dae, buet it'z a worrierz lief fur me. * Smuuch!*
The Whisperer: * eyez glaezin ovr* MMMmmmmm . . .choklit. Deed u noe dis slave taestz jest like choklit tu? That's "salve" Legolas. Datz noet hoew TreeHugger spaellz it. *weenkz an huegz u *
Lina Skye: Hae thaer! *waevz * I deed noet noe dat beain a veergeen meent dat I wuz broek? * geeglez an flaexz fur u*
Yuffie-Girl: Kloewnz ar fuen! Dey'r jest peepl wid maekup oen, soert of like akturz reely. *huegglz u *
Arilyn: I em soe glaed u seant a lub ledder tu me. I tuuk ur adviese an gaev al sum of my choklitz. Dat deed hep. *huegz an keesiz *
Sperry Dee: Oeh, Boy! Charlie da Naezbuennie culd bea en da seerkus wid me! *snoegz u *
Stimpy aka Amber: Noe der noet. Nuf sed. * beeg huegz u!*
Scars On A Scribbler's Heart: It tuuk me awile tu git da kaefeen ouetda my syestim frum dat Staerbuekz choklit frapacheeno, buet it shur wuz guud! Hannon le! * smuuch!*
IRENA: BUET I LIKE DA KLOEWN STUEF!! I THOT U LIKD FUR ME TU WARE TITEZ? Dey wuld keap me frum gittin da ruegbuern, wuldn't dey?? U deedn't agrie tu shaer me wid PP soe u culd git a tuern dat muech faestr, deed u? MMMMmmmmm. . . due dat sum moer. . . dat fealz guud. . . * straetchez katlike an den snuegglz u uep tite*
miao-miao: Mae Govannen! Vys ume quel! Deed u meen "tella" tho? al theenkz dat ez fuenny. Amin n'rangwa omenta. Namarie! * cueddlez*
gershwin: I em glaed tu heer u ar bedder. U reely met da tiegr traener? WOEW! *squeesh tu u tu! *
JastaElf: * draegz sef entu chaer AGIN!* Grate Valar, Jasta, u hav goet tu stoep duein dat tu me! Yaes, steem frum Ada'z eerz uzuelly meenz he weel bea doneen Celeb Baud. Sumbuddie ez en trubel den (uzeuelly urz trewlee). I dunno abot Theoden, buet Eomer wuz shur luukin at me fuennie whin we wear en Rohan. Hearz a * smuuch* fur u, Jasta, and a *hueg! * fur Ada!
leail: *SNOEG! * LEAIL!! *blueshz * I deedn't noew I wuz da Gratest Shoew oen Erth! Da beeg red shoez deed noet fit me, soe I tuuk anuthr pare dat deed. Hannon le fur all u due fur me! *snoegz u agin fur guud luk! *
Laura: I thaenk al iz deevaelopin an eemunitee tu haert attakz. Bean a kloewn iz fuen! *Keesiz u *
Lady Silence: Imp 13 deedn't stae loeng. Seand Sigmund nekz tiem, okae? He souwndz like a paertie anamel! Deed u noe dat if u tern ur Twiezzlr an luuk doewn da end it luukz like it haz sum X an O's en it? Hearz sum xtrae fur u * xoxoxoxoxoxoxox*
Lily Frost: I hav neber haed red pealing toez beafour. Gimli uzed tu git a raesh arond heez eyez tho. If I deedn't hav lub ledderz, I wuld hav tu reed da pone buuk I gess! Dat wuld noet bea neer az muech fuen. *elbin lub fur u! *
Dunrosiel: Sumtiemz I weesh TreeHugger deedn't tael eberythaeng she noez! She culd furgit abot da draess and da piepwead enitiem. * beeg hueg fur u*
anna: Bean a kloewn iz loetz of wurk, buet loetz of fuen tu! *skweeazes u tite! *
Digital Jessie: Kloewnin around iz Guud! Ar u tierd of reedin yaet? al an I hav a loet moer stoerriez tu tael! I em glaed u ar hear noew! * nise loeng kees fur u az a reawaerd*
Max Jive: Trubel? I wuz noet en trubel. I deed git sum soaep en alz hare, tho . . . *weenkz an huegz u *
Lady Peredhel: Elvis chaerm *weenkz * Bea karefull faelling oen da grownd dat wae! Deed u lern dat en kloewn skool? Dat guy whoe thaenkz he iz me wuz waerin jeenz oen da TV komershul. Deed u sea heem? * gloempz u*
Sake: I deed mees u! Kloewnz ar noet soe skeerie at all! * snuegglz*
Legolana Greenleaf: Hannon le fur dose choklitz! I lub da hoers shaepd wonz baest. Speidrz? En ur bed? *shueddrz * I theenk I nead a hug! *huegz u *
TreeHugger: U souwnd like dat raebbit en Alise en Wundurlaend. al deed noet sae I haed to stae dere. She jest sed she wuld bea rite bak. I wuz reely guud at dat kloewn thaeng, doen't u thaenk?? * cueddlz an snuegglz wid u wile Mr. Ron ez noet luukin*
borednhyper: Leedle Peep uzed tu hav won of dose leesh thaengz fur her fraend Shadow, buet it iz peenk! Due u thaenk I wuld luuk guud wid a peenk leesh oen? I kin ax if I culd boerroe it. * huegz an keesiz u *
Mickie: al sez she saew dat X-filez an it WUZ skeerie! I hoep u ar fealin bedder noew. I seeng teanor moest of da tiem, unlaess we ar shoert sum soapraenoz. * gloempz u! *
Chelsey: I em an elf worrier, u noe! I em vary braev! *bloewz u a keez *
bizzy: Me? Git en trubel? Tea hea!! * smuuch!*
Dragon-of-the-north: Luuk, al, luuk! I goet a neu faen! Rite dere, luuk! *waevz * Hae! Kin I caell u Dragon? * huegz u fur wurkin soe haerd! *
Katani Petitedra: al sez dat she theenkz sumtiemz da kloewnz hav aelredy taekn ober, buet dey furgoet dere maekup. * cueddlz u*
Goddess-Isis-112: due u lub akting? I due! Mebbe I weel goe tu Holliewuud sumdae. I culd bea a pierate, oer a soeldjur, oer eben a meelkmaen/bokzer! Yaeh! *Keesez u fur dat guud ideea! *
Seaweed: Whie iz Gimli ouet kold oen da grownd? U deedn't ruin heez red draess en da lawndrie, deed u? I hoep noet, buet it wuz a leedle tite arond da chaest . . . . * sweat keesiz u oen da cheak, soe Gimli weel noet hit me wid dat akz. *
Aftem: Hoew beeg iz ur ruum? Mine haz goet ruum fur a rokin hoers en it beeg enuf fur me to ried! * flaexez my bisepz fur u*
ithinkineedanewname: Dose kloewnz ar loetz of fuen! I deed git guusepeemplz at da end whin all da peepl klaeppd dere haendz! *beeg hueg fur u *
PuterPatty: U noe, whin dis skreen saevr coemz oen, I kin sea misef! *gitz ouet koemb, sleekz hare bak * Goetta luuk guud fur my gurlz! Dere, datz bedder. I doent nead a whip, baybee, I kin taelk dose gurlz entu anithaeng I waent. . . BWAHHAHHAAHAA!! Shuet uep, al! . . . Deed u win enithaeng at da loetterie? U shur haed a loet of tikitz. Danse wid me, meleth. . . * staendz bak tu bak an duz da sheemie, sheemie, den speenz u around an snoegz u saensleass agin*
Dagmar of Avalon: Hae! I em fien, hoew abot u? Ar u ober bean hiepr yaet? * huegz*
Grammar Laedee: Dat ez da haet frum da koettin kaendie dat Leedle Peep wuz waerin at da seerkus. It sez "Da Gratest Shoew oen Erth" buet it luukz like it sez MOM en da pikshur. Wate teel u sea my nekz haet! *Huegs an keesiz! *
Fades into the west: WOEW! U lib en LA? Bie Holliewuud? Ar u an aktur? Dat guy whoe thaenkz he iz me livz der sumtiemz. * skweazez u *
Thuriniel: al neber remimberz tu braeng da kamera. She neadz tu aed it tu da poket chaek rooteen. * kueddlez u*
The Two Princesses: al haz 12 tikitz frum TTT noew. Leedle Peep'z skool duz noet alloew thim tu breeng dere mobeelz. Dey muest leev dem at hoem. Hearz sum moer abot da seerkus fur u-an dere iz a leedle moer tu com! * XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO! *
Hiro-tyre: U shuld goe won tiem if u git da chaence. It wuz furn, buet I thaenk al neadz me hear tu taek kaer of her moer. Wate teel u sea whut aelse haz haeppind! * snoeg*
Andy'sPrincess: Ar u bedder yaet? Hear iz sum of dat Elvis meadasin *snuegglz an kueddlz *
Holly: I lub dese beedz, buet whut ez dis deavilree? * hoeldz uep leedle blak peese of cloeth* Iz dis fur floessin my teath? al sez YD iz noet alloewd tu smuuch u bak, buet he deed like da ideea. *beeg kees fur u! *
JaguarKitty2006: *chewz meentz * Aktin iz noet soe haerd if u pertind tu toetully bea ur karaktur. U jest furgit dat peepl ar wachin an goe at it! * gloempz*
Anon: Hae, al! Luuk! Dere'z anuthur neu faengurl dere-rite dere, sea? *waevz * Glaed u ar hear! Hoew abot a kees tu git staerted? *keesez u swaetlee *
Blume: I thot kloewnz wear skeerie, buet dey ar a loet of fuen! I gess u have tu waelk a miel en sumwon ealsez shoez tu sea whare dey ar komin frum. * huegglz u*
Campy Oh: Deed u like dis chaeptr? *throez elbin lub tu u * I haed a guud Vaelentimz Dae, dat iz, AFTUR al hepd me rap her praesent bak up. --Did it have your name on the tag? -Noe, buet it DEED fiet me!-Doesn't matter. Besides, pink is sooooo NOT your color.-Buet, al, I jest straetchd it a leedle, soe noew it weel fiet bedder.-Thanks A LOT, elfboy. It was supposed to be tight!
laure: I wuz een disguyz. Dat wae noe won wuld noe it wuz me en da kloewn kostuem! Wuzn't dat cleaver? * smuuch*
Becky Greenleaf: Soe u caem ouet of da kloesit tu, deed u? LOL! I reemembir u! *deapz u an givz u a beeg kees * Reemembir me??? *weenkz *
Psychoman 364: Dose faengurlz lub me, doen't dey??!! *weenkz *
Nilmandra: Iz dis faest enuf? I wuz watein oen u tu reeveew! Thaenkz fur da envitashun tu veesit u. Deed PP eber giev u a tikit? Hearz a beeg kees fur u * deeeeap an looooeennnggg smuuuuch *
Rebecca: Wekkom! I wuz jest abot tu tael al dat I wuz doen wid my lub ledderz whin she sed, "Legolas! U hav anuthr neu faengurl todae!" I wuz soe eggsited I aelmoest haed an aksident! U muest bea tierd aftur all dat reedin. I em glaed u joend us! * givz u a wekkom hueg an kees * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What will Legolas do next? Will Little Pip eat all the cotton candy all by herself? How much will this end up costing Yes Dear this time? Will al ever get the soap bubbles out of her hair? Will PuterPatty give up all the tickets she took? Will TreeHugger ever figure out what happened to the slave with the salve? What will Irena do without her massage this time? Will Ada ever find where Legolas hid Celeb Baud? Stay tuned for the next amazing episode of "Lego's Tales"!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 5 The Show Must Go On
The tall clown in the rainbow stripes gives me a wink, followed by a perfect imitation of the Thranduil eyebrow.
Well, he's certainly not missing the show, is he?
With the act completed, off they go in a cloud of fog.
"Well?" says Yes Dear.
"Yeah, what're you gonna do about THIS, Mom?" asks Little Pip.
I contemplate for awhile before concluding, "I'm going to watch the rest of the show," settling down and leaning back in my seat.
"Really?" says Yes Dear, giving me his own version of the Thranduil eyebrow.
Ignoring them both, I return my attention to the three rings. There are a dozen or so Chinese Lions leaping and weaving throughout the arena. Each "lion" is made up of two acrobats with a colorful costume of gold, orange, and fiery red connecting them together. They are fierce looking, and capable of some awesome feats of flexibility and balance. The most impressive thing is when two of the lion pairs climb upon two giant blue balls, rolling them to meet each other, and then another lion pair leaps on top way up high and they all roll around the ring. The act is absolutely fascinating, and is over much sooner than I want it to be.
The next act to come out to the three rings is an equestrian one. All three rings are filled with jet black and snow white horses, dressed in glittering turquoise blue trappings and headpieces with tall plumy feathers on them. Three trainers dressed in white tuxedos with matching turquoise accessories and glittering top hats are present, one in the center of each ring. Two of the trainers have long whips they are using to signal the horses. Occasionally the horses' ears flick backward and they toss their heads, appearing to be a bit irritated with each other.
The third trainer, the one with the fringe of blond hair peeking out from underneath his top hat in the ring directly in front of our seats, has no whip. In fact, he holds nothing at all in his hands. The four white and four black horses under his command are watching him with rapt attention, ears perked forward and eyes glued to him.
I watch mesmerized as the horses weave in and out amongst each other in elaborate patterns, all the while keeping an ear cocked toward the trainer. He, in contrast, stands perfectly still. Without a single visible clue, all of the horses suddenly line themselves up with their front hooves on the foot-high ring railing facing outwards. That is, all but one.
The prettiest snow white mare, the one who has been stepping the highest and perking her ears the most, stands facing her trainer. Almost imperceptibly, he dips his head to her and motions with it toward the other horses. Just as subtly, she shakes her head side to side, "No". Even with the glittering turquoise top hat on I can see him give her the Thranduil eyebrow. She shakes her head again, "No."
He sighs.
She stares, waiting.
He puts his hands together in a prayer of supplication.
She continues gazing at him, then dips her head, nodding toward her feet and looking at the ground in front of her.
His eyes widen as if he can't believe what she is asking of him.
She bats her long eyelashes at him.
He rolls his eyes heavenward, throws up his hands and shrugs his shoulders. The shoulders then fall in a slump. He drops to one knee in front of her. If she were two-legged, I would swear he was asking for her hoof in marriage.
After a very pregnant pause, I swear she smiles and winks at him. Then she turns and joins the other horses at the ring railing.
As he rises to his feet again, the horses break rank and begin processing around the ring once more, stopping every four hoofbeats to spin around in a circle. As the performance comes to an end, one by one the horses each circle around and head out of the ring. The last to leave is the beautiful white mare. She stops center-ring and faces him once again.
He smiles encouragingly at her, his big blue eyes asking nicely for her cooperation.
She holds her ground.
The blue eyes change, the facial expression becomes more of a plea.
She shakes her head, "No, I'm having WAY too much fun with this," she seems to say.
The other two rings are now empty. The arena is darkening; the next act is waiting. The spotlight operator seizes this opportunity and focuses the sole remaining light on the relationship in the only occupied ring. The two of them are bathed in the light like lovers in the moon's glow.
She waits.
He watches.
She tosses her pretty head, her mane bouncing, making a 'come-hither' motion to him with her nose.
He raises his right hand, pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes," she nods, batting her eyelashes faster. She side-steps slightly, sashaying her hips and swishing her tail.
Obediently, he steps forward until they are a mere foot apart.
She shakes her head, "No."
"What?" he mouths, hands spread wide and shoulders shrugging.
Raising her head, she gently takes the brim of his glittering turquoise top hat in her teeth, lifting it from his head and allowing his long blond hair to fall to his shoulders. She lowers the hat and taps it against his left hand, indicating that he should take it from her.
He blushes, bowing his head and whispering, "Sorry, I forgot."
She smiles, and then takes one step forward to bump her forehead against his. He brings his arms up, locking them around her neck in a tender embrace, and then, eyes closed, he lowers his lips to kiss her ever so gently and tenderly between her big brown eyes.
She shudders from nose to tail.
He lifts his head and laughs aloud, delighting in her response.
She lowers herself with her right foreleg daintily outstretched and her left foreleg bent in the prettiest princess curtsey I have ever seen, paying homage to the love of her life. Rising, she winks at him before spinning her hindquarters around and giving him another close up look at her tail-swishing maneuver. He responds by giving her a little smack on the hindquarters with the top hat, and then joins her in running from the ring into the waiting darkness.
The stagehands have been working quickly to assemble a large wire mesh ball, close to twelve feet in diameter, which they push into the center ring. A group of motorcyclists are zipping around the perimeter of the arena, and soon they line up facing the gigantic wire cage. A door opens out from its side, creating a ramp, and three of the motorcyclists file in. Once the door is closed, they begin to ride inside the ball, around and around and even upside down across the top. They are so close together it's a wonder they don't knock helmets with each other as one of them takes a turn to break out of line and circle overhead.
They slow to a crawl and come to rest together at the bottom of the ball. Amid thunderous applause, the door opens, but rather than change riders, a fourth motorcyclist enters the ball. Soon four of them are spinning madly inside the metal wire ball. Once again they crawl to a stop and huddle together at the bottom of the ball. The door opens again, and one cyclist exits. Two more enter, and in an insane display of ability, there are now five cyclists madly whirling inside the giant ball. The tires of the bikes are mere centimeters from each other, and there doesn't seem to be a square inch of interior space of the mesh that hasn't been covered. If one of them misses by a fraction of an inch, there will be a disaster.
The audience, though appreciative, seems disappointed there was no wreck when they come to a stop again. That is, until the curtain at the entrance of the arena opens and yet another motorcyclist comes riding out.
"You don't think. . . ," Little Pip starts to say.
"No way!" exclaims Yes Dear. "He hasn't even tried to ride Pip's regular bike at home yet!"
The cyclist roars up to the wire cage ball and rolls up the ramp, squeezing in amidst the other five riders. They rev the engines, moving slightly forward and back until each nods his readiness to the others.
"This is totally insane," mutters Yes Dear.
"Dad, you think that might be. . . ," the rest of Little Pip's sentence is drowned out by the ear splitting rumble of six motorcycles traveling at high speed, all within a twelve-foot diameter metal wire-mesh ball.
I am shell shocked and totally speechless. One small slip up and total disaster is at hand, right in front of my eyes. Visions of glass doors and Sea Pee Ar, cockroach attacks, and dodging cars while running after the ice cream truck flash before my eyes. How much luck can the life of one immortal hold?
Unable to stand it anymore, I bury my head in my hands, fearing to watch any further lest my heart stop beating in my chest.
When the blast of engine sounds fades to a mild drone, I chance a peek through my fingers to see all six of the cyclists lined up before the cheering audience. I am no longer certain which one is the tallest and thinnest, for in my panic I have taken my eyes off the last one to enter, and now their body sizes are far too similar for me to distinguish one from the other. I watch, holding my breath, as the six of them begin to take off their helmets and wave to the crowd. One, two, three, four with short black hair and Hispanic features. Two to go. . . .
Neither of them is Legolas.
My heart has had all it can take. I just wish he'd come safely back to his seat now. No such luck, for as the lights dim and the cyclists leave, the tiger act takes over.
Snarling teeth, slashing claws, and fiery hoops later, there is still no further sign of the Prance. I cannot tell you how relieved I am.
The stage hands have covered the ring in front of us with some type of blue plastic matting, and inside the ring now sits a picnic table and a longer table with what looks like a double-bowled kitchen sink. Both of the bowls are filled to the rim with some type of white liquid substance that looks like marshmallow crème. There is also a bright yellow fifty-five gallon trash container full of the same stuff sitting just inside the ring, and a couple of one-gallon metal buckets sitting beside it. I suppose the little buckets are for refilling the sink bowls with whatever is contained in the industrial sized bucket.
Once again, they send in the clowns.
Dressed alike in black and white striped referee shirts and black pants with whistles around their necks, four of them come running and bouncing into the ring, blowing their whistles and generally making as much noise and havoc as possible. While they run around acting more like cheerleaders than referees, the oversized lady clown once again makes her appearance. This time she is dressed to play the part of the Headmistress of the Clown Referee Training School. Her referee dress is covered with very wide stripes to match her extra size, and her bright red wig is covered with a matching baseball cap. Emblazoned across the back where the player's name goes is the title "The Training Instructor" and around her neck is the biggest whistle I think I have ever seen. When she blows it, it dominates the arena, making the other whistles look like the plastic child's toys that they are.
"Time for lunch!" the narrator announces in perfect lip synch with The Training Instructor.
The four students crowd and rush each other at the picnic table, fighting over the seats and pulling each other's hair. When she blows the whistle a second time, they sit like little angels at the table, all proper manners and folded hands in laps.
The Training Instructor turns her back and goes to the kitchen sink table to pick up a stack of lunch trays. As she turns away, the chaos at the table begins anew.
She stops.
They stop, frozen in place.
She continues, and they take turns pushing and shoving and dashing around until none of them is sitting in the same place that they were before. When she turns around, lunch trays in hand, there they sit, hands folded in laps, angelic smiles in place.
She gives each of them a lunch tray, which actually looks more like an oblong sheet cake pan about 3 inches deep. Per her excellent instructions, they proceed to line up and process over to the kitchen sink area. Every time she looks away, no matter where she looks, one of them takes some advantage of the other, pushing or shoving, tapping on shoulders, or something. Legolas is the second one in line, and he takes a mighty jerk to one of his long pigtails from one of them, hard enough to pull him out of line, but he seems unfazed.
The Training Instructor takes a large soup ladle from a drawer in the table with the kitchen sink and proceeds to ladle the white liquid into each of the lunch trays. She motions with the ladle for each of the students to return to their places at the picnic table as she fills the trays up.
I know what you're thinking. Fat chance of that going along smoothly, right?
Right.
The first student makes it safely to the picnic table, but Legolas gets tripped by the third and before long there is total melee going on. His lunch tray flips into the air and the contents land sloppily right in the lap of the first clown. The third clown finds this funny, so Legolas reaches out and tips that tray up to splash him in the face. The fourth clown is engaging The Training Instructor in a heated argument about how much of the liquid stuff is too much to put into his tray, and is effectively buying time for the first clown to grab Legolas by the collar and toss him sliding down the length of the picnic table through the slippery mess they have made. He rolls off the end of the table and bounds back into the fray. That is about the time the audience realizes that the white liquid is really soap bubbles.
By this time, there enough liquid in the ring and bubbles in the air to send everyone sprawling. The Training Instructor is trying to gain the upper hand by blowing the huge whistle around her neck, but no such luck. Before long, the kitchen sink liquid is gone, and the four students have each grabbed a metal bucket and are having the time of their lives scooping soap bubbles out of the 55 gallon container and soaking each other good.
With one last ear-splitting blow on the giant whistle, suddenly everyone freezes. They stand, dripping and staring at each other. Without warning, two of the students grab The Training Instructor and toss her upside down into the liquid that is left in the industrial sized container, revealing her bright red hot pants hidden underneath her referee dress. The third clown joins Legolas in snatching up one of the metal buckets sitting on the side of the ring, and both of them run headlong at the audience. Legolas heads straight for me, and I can see the mischievous devilment in his merry elven eyes as he cocks the bucket back, aiming straight at my head.
"NOOOOO!!!" I hear myself scream as he tosses the contents of the bucket at me.
A cloud of white paper confetti rains down on me. Legolas laughs gleefully, then leans over to give me a soggy hug.
"Dere'z a paertie fur all da kloewnz aftur da shoew!" he says in my ear. "Wate hear an I weel com git u, okae?"
Before I can ask how he got invited in the first place, he is gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Now, don't all of you want to come live at my house??
Thanks go to PuterPatty, Grammar Laedee, and TreeHugger for their help with this one. You guys rock!
*al runs through the crowd, handing out paper towels and drool cups* Ok, let the show really begin!
INTRODUCING, FOR YOUR PLEASURE:
LUB LEDDERS FRUM LEGOLAS
Hae eberybuddie! Skuze me a sekont . . . * pueshz refeel roell oentu tikit dispaensur* I dunno hoew meeny tiemz I hav feeled dis thaeng dis weak! PuterPatty, u bedder giv sum of dose tikits bak! Hearz a tikit fur eech of u neu faengurlz. . . * haendz ouet tikitz* *smakz PP'z ouetstraetchd haend AGIN! * Noew, on wid da shoew!
Michelle: * haendz u sum moer of my choklit* U doen't luuk week, mel nin. *keesez u * Hoew abot noew?
Newmoon: Ar dose ur baybee Balrog breechiz? I lub dem! We ar duein Annie dis suemmr tu! * cueddlz*
Vladimirs Angel: * huegz* Hae! Dat'z my koemb! Giv dat bak!
Angaloth: I lub u tu! U doen't hav tu bea soerrie, u ar hear noew and datz whut kowntz. *skweeze *
Magical Rachel: * ketchez keesiz* Buet I DUE nead dese keesiz, melethrin! I deed like bean a kloewn fur a dae, buet it'z a worrierz lief fur me. * Smuuch!*
The Whisperer: * eyez glaezin ovr* MMMmmmmm . . .choklit. Deed u noe dis slave taestz jest like choklit tu? That's "salve" Legolas. Datz noet hoew TreeHugger spaellz it. *weenkz an huegz u *
Lina Skye: Hae thaer! *waevz * I deed noet noe dat beain a veergeen meent dat I wuz broek? * geeglez an flaexz fur u*
Yuffie-Girl: Kloewnz ar fuen! Dey'r jest peepl wid maekup oen, soert of like akturz reely. *huegglz u *
Arilyn: I em soe glaed u seant a lub ledder tu me. I tuuk ur adviese an gaev al sum of my choklitz. Dat deed hep. *huegz an keesiz *
Sperry Dee: Oeh, Boy! Charlie da Naezbuennie culd bea en da seerkus wid me! *snoegz u *
Stimpy aka Amber: Noe der noet. Nuf sed. * beeg huegz u!*
Scars On A Scribbler's Heart: It tuuk me awile tu git da kaefeen ouetda my syestim frum dat Staerbuekz choklit frapacheeno, buet it shur wuz guud! Hannon le! * smuuch!*
IRENA: BUET I LIKE DA KLOEWN STUEF!! I THOT U LIKD FUR ME TU WARE TITEZ? Dey wuld keap me frum gittin da ruegbuern, wuldn't dey?? U deedn't agrie tu shaer me wid PP soe u culd git a tuern dat muech faestr, deed u? MMMMmmmmm. . . due dat sum moer. . . dat fealz guud. . . * straetchez katlike an den snuegglz u uep tite*
miao-miao: Mae Govannen! Vys ume quel! Deed u meen "tella" tho? al theenkz dat ez fuenny. Amin n'rangwa omenta. Namarie! * cueddlez*
gershwin: I em glaed tu heer u ar bedder. U reely met da tiegr traener? WOEW! *squeesh tu u tu! *
JastaElf: * draegz sef entu chaer AGIN!* Grate Valar, Jasta, u hav goet tu stoep duein dat tu me! Yaes, steem frum Ada'z eerz uzuelly meenz he weel bea doneen Celeb Baud. Sumbuddie ez en trubel den (uzeuelly urz trewlee). I dunno abot Theoden, buet Eomer wuz shur luukin at me fuennie whin we wear en Rohan. Hearz a * smuuch* fur u, Jasta, and a *hueg! * fur Ada!
leail: *SNOEG! * LEAIL!! *blueshz * I deedn't noew I wuz da Gratest Shoew oen Erth! Da beeg red shoez deed noet fit me, soe I tuuk anuthr pare dat deed. Hannon le fur all u due fur me! *snoegz u agin fur guud luk! *
Laura: I thaenk al iz deevaelopin an eemunitee tu haert attakz. Bean a kloewn iz fuen! *Keesiz u *
Lady Silence: Imp 13 deedn't stae loeng. Seand Sigmund nekz tiem, okae? He souwndz like a paertie anamel! Deed u noe dat if u tern ur Twiezzlr an luuk doewn da end it luukz like it haz sum X an O's en it? Hearz sum xtrae fur u * xoxoxoxoxoxoxox*
Lily Frost: I hav neber haed red pealing toez beafour. Gimli uzed tu git a raesh arond heez eyez tho. If I deedn't hav lub ledderz, I wuld hav tu reed da pone buuk I gess! Dat wuld noet bea neer az muech fuen. *elbin lub fur u! *
Dunrosiel: Sumtiemz I weesh TreeHugger deedn't tael eberythaeng she noez! She culd furgit abot da draess and da piepwead enitiem. * beeg hueg fur u*
anna: Bean a kloewn iz loetz of wurk, buet loetz of fuen tu! *skweeazes u tite! *
Digital Jessie: Kloewnin around iz Guud! Ar u tierd of reedin yaet? al an I hav a loet moer stoerriez tu tael! I em glaed u ar hear noew! * nise loeng kees fur u az a reawaerd*
Max Jive: Trubel? I wuz noet en trubel. I deed git sum soaep en alz hare, tho . . . *weenkz an huegz u *
Lady Peredhel: Elvis chaerm *weenkz * Bea karefull faelling oen da grownd dat wae! Deed u lern dat en kloewn skool? Dat guy whoe thaenkz he iz me wuz waerin jeenz oen da TV komershul. Deed u sea heem? * gloempz u*
Sake: I deed mees u! Kloewnz ar noet soe skeerie at all! * snuegglz*
Legolana Greenleaf: Hannon le fur dose choklitz! I lub da hoers shaepd wonz baest. Speidrz? En ur bed? *shueddrz * I theenk I nead a hug! *huegz u *
TreeHugger: U souwnd like dat raebbit en Alise en Wundurlaend. al deed noet sae I haed to stae dere. She jest sed she wuld bea rite bak. I wuz reely guud at dat kloewn thaeng, doen't u thaenk?? * cueddlz an snuegglz wid u wile Mr. Ron ez noet luukin*
borednhyper: Leedle Peep uzed tu hav won of dose leesh thaengz fur her fraend Shadow, buet it iz peenk! Due u thaenk I wuld luuk guud wid a peenk leesh oen? I kin ax if I culd boerroe it. * huegz an keesiz u *
Mickie: al sez she saew dat X-filez an it WUZ skeerie! I hoep u ar fealin bedder noew. I seeng teanor moest of da tiem, unlaess we ar shoert sum soapraenoz. * gloempz u! *
Chelsey: I em an elf worrier, u noe! I em vary braev! *bloewz u a keez *
bizzy: Me? Git en trubel? Tea hea!! * smuuch!*
Dragon-of-the-north: Luuk, al, luuk! I goet a neu faen! Rite dere, luuk! *waevz * Hae! Kin I caell u Dragon? * huegz u fur wurkin soe haerd! *
Katani Petitedra: al sez dat she theenkz sumtiemz da kloewnz hav aelredy taekn ober, buet dey furgoet dere maekup. * cueddlz u*
Goddess-Isis-112: due u lub akting? I due! Mebbe I weel goe tu Holliewuud sumdae. I culd bea a pierate, oer a soeldjur, oer eben a meelkmaen/bokzer! Yaeh! *Keesez u fur dat guud ideea! *
Seaweed: Whie iz Gimli ouet kold oen da grownd? U deedn't ruin heez red draess en da lawndrie, deed u? I hoep noet, buet it wuz a leedle tite arond da chaest . . . . * sweat keesiz u oen da cheak, soe Gimli weel noet hit me wid dat akz. *
Aftem: Hoew beeg iz ur ruum? Mine haz goet ruum fur a rokin hoers en it beeg enuf fur me to ried! * flaexez my bisepz fur u*
ithinkineedanewname: Dose kloewnz ar loetz of fuen! I deed git guusepeemplz at da end whin all da peepl klaeppd dere haendz! *beeg hueg fur u *
PuterPatty: U noe, whin dis skreen saevr coemz oen, I kin sea misef! *gitz ouet koemb, sleekz hare bak * Goetta luuk guud fur my gurlz! Dere, datz bedder. I doent nead a whip, baybee, I kin taelk dose gurlz entu anithaeng I waent. . . BWAHHAHHAAHAA!! Shuet uep, al! . . . Deed u win enithaeng at da loetterie? U shur haed a loet of tikitz. Danse wid me, meleth. . . * staendz bak tu bak an duz da sheemie, sheemie, den speenz u around an snoegz u saensleass agin*
Dagmar of Avalon: Hae! I em fien, hoew abot u? Ar u ober bean hiepr yaet? * huegz*
Grammar Laedee: Dat ez da haet frum da koettin kaendie dat Leedle Peep wuz waerin at da seerkus. It sez "Da Gratest Shoew oen Erth" buet it luukz like it sez MOM en da pikshur. Wate teel u sea my nekz haet! *Huegs an keesiz! *
Fades into the west: WOEW! U lib en LA? Bie Holliewuud? Ar u an aktur? Dat guy whoe thaenkz he iz me livz der sumtiemz. * skweazez u *
Thuriniel: al neber remimberz tu braeng da kamera. She neadz tu aed it tu da poket chaek rooteen. * kueddlez u*
The Two Princesses: al haz 12 tikitz frum TTT noew. Leedle Peep'z skool duz noet alloew thim tu breeng dere mobeelz. Dey muest leev dem at hoem. Hearz sum moer abot da seerkus fur u-an dere iz a leedle moer tu com! * XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO! *
Hiro-tyre: U shuld goe won tiem if u git da chaence. It wuz furn, buet I thaenk al neadz me hear tu taek kaer of her moer. Wate teel u sea whut aelse haz haeppind! * snoeg*
Andy'sPrincess: Ar u bedder yaet? Hear iz sum of dat Elvis meadasin *snuegglz an kueddlz *
Holly: I lub dese beedz, buet whut ez dis deavilree? * hoeldz uep leedle blak peese of cloeth* Iz dis fur floessin my teath? al sez YD iz noet alloewd tu smuuch u bak, buet he deed like da ideea. *beeg kees fur u! *
JaguarKitty2006: *chewz meentz * Aktin iz noet soe haerd if u pertind tu toetully bea ur karaktur. U jest furgit dat peepl ar wachin an goe at it! * gloempz*
Anon: Hae, al! Luuk! Dere'z anuthur neu faengurl dere-rite dere, sea? *waevz * Glaed u ar hear! Hoew abot a kees tu git staerted? *keesez u swaetlee *
Blume: I thot kloewnz wear skeerie, buet dey ar a loet of fuen! I gess u have tu waelk a miel en sumwon ealsez shoez tu sea whare dey ar komin frum. * huegglz u*
Campy Oh: Deed u like dis chaeptr? *throez elbin lub tu u * I haed a guud Vaelentimz Dae, dat iz, AFTUR al hepd me rap her praesent bak up. --Did it have your name on the tag? -Noe, buet it DEED fiet me!-Doesn't matter. Besides, pink is sooooo NOT your color.-Buet, al, I jest straetchd it a leedle, soe noew it weel fiet bedder.-Thanks A LOT, elfboy. It was supposed to be tight!
laure: I wuz een disguyz. Dat wae noe won wuld noe it wuz me en da kloewn kostuem! Wuzn't dat cleaver? * smuuch*
Becky Greenleaf: Soe u caem ouet of da kloesit tu, deed u? LOL! I reemembir u! *deapz u an givz u a beeg kees * Reemembir me??? *weenkz *
Psychoman 364: Dose faengurlz lub me, doen't dey??!! *weenkz *
Nilmandra: Iz dis faest enuf? I wuz watein oen u tu reeveew! Thaenkz fur da envitashun tu veesit u. Deed PP eber giev u a tikit? Hearz a beeg kees fur u * deeeeap an looooeennnggg smuuuuch *
Rebecca: Wekkom! I wuz jest abot tu tael al dat I wuz doen wid my lub ledderz whin she sed, "Legolas! U hav anuthr neu faengurl todae!" I wuz soe eggsited I aelmoest haed an aksident! U muest bea tierd aftur all dat reedin. I em glaed u joend us! * givz u a wekkom hueg an kees * ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What will Legolas do next? Will Little Pip eat all the cotton candy all by herself? How much will this end up costing Yes Dear this time? Will al ever get the soap bubbles out of her hair? Will PuterPatty give up all the tickets she took? Will TreeHugger ever figure out what happened to the slave with the salve? What will Irena do without her massage this time? Will Ada ever find where Legolas hid Celeb Baud? Stay tuned for the next amazing episode of "Lego's Tales"!