A/N: Very special thanks to my lovely beta, the most creative and talented
PuterPatty. She admits to going over this whole thing somewhere in the
neighborhood of three times looking for something to complain about. I
think she was just giggling so hard the first two times that she couldn't
see through the tears in her eyes. She's also responsible for helping me
size the photos for the bio page so that you can enjoy poor "faek me" and
his latest round of torture. Don't miss Legolas' Halloween costume for
this year, posted with this chapter. Thanks, nin-mel!
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Chapter 15 If the Shoe Fits
Jeepers. Not again.
Legolas has got the most incredible knack for disappearing, hasn't he? Sometimes I swear I'm gonna get him a leash.
While Yes Dear clears the old scores and sets up the next game, I start my search. "Did anyone see where Legolas wandered off to?" I ask the neighboring bowlers. Everyone shakes their head no.
"Maybe he went to the bathroom," pipes in one of the cute little girls, the one with the braided pigtails in her dark brown hair.
"Maybe he's playing one of those games you have to put money in, "says the one in the pink 'Hello Kitty' shirt.
"Maybe he went to the snack bar to get some French fries," says the tallest one. "I wouldn't mind having some French fries with ketchup right now."
"Mommy, I gotta go to the bathroom too," says the teeny-tiny little one, tugging on her mother's arm.
I try the snack bar first, since it's closest. Surely by now he's gotten hungry and the smell of chilidogs and popcorn are calling his stomach by name. If he's found out they sell whole dill pickles, there'll be no leaving until the jar is empty, I'm sure.
There's no Legolas at the snack bar. I head over to the adjoining pool room, thinking surely the green felt-covered tables with all the multicolored striped and solid balls would hold his attention if he spotted them. I half-expect to find him stretched out across a table, cue stick in hand, trying some impossible trick shot just like the pros, surrrounded by half-a-dozen female spectators staring blatantly at the display instead of the demonstration.
Still no Legolas.
I catch up with Yes Dear on his way to the check the men's restroom and, after a brief conference, I decide to see if the Prance has mistakenly wandered into the ladies room by accident. No luck for either of us.
"You don't think he went out to the car, do you?" Yes Dear asks.
"Gosh, I hope not," I answer. "It's pouring down rain. Plus his Nike Air's are still sitting underneath his chair. He took so long picking them out, I KNOW he wouldn't walk off and leave those."
As we leave the concession area, I happen to glance back to where Lil' Pip waits for us, sitting there in her chair at Lane #13. There in the seat beside her sits 'Orcbait', pulling off his maroon and navy bowling shoes.
Thinking he's unhappy enough with his performance so far that he's in a hurry to go home, I trot over to our lane to reassure him that everybody takes a bit of time to get the knack of rolling a ball 60 feet and knocking down a row of pins. Except when I get to the chairs, I realize he's not given up quite yet. Not in the least.
On the seat beside him sits a pair of the most hideous rental bowling shoes ever created. Not only are they neon green, orange, yellow, and pink, but they're patterned in HOUNDSTOOTH CHECK.
"Luuk at da shoez da maen at da daesk foewnd jest fur me!" he crows, holding the putrid things aloft. "Noew u bedder wach owt, 'Arwen'," he teases. "Wonse my shoez an my baell maech, u ar noet gunna bea aebul tu beet me!"
Gads, he's positively giddy.
Lil' Pip rolls first, me second, Yes Dear third, and suddenly it's fashion conscious 'Orcbait's' turn. Proud as a peacock, he struts to the ball return, making sure to nod and smile at each of the little ladies watching enraptured to his left. He turns to the right and gives a wink to the tourney couple. Picks up the ball. Inserts his fingers. Begins his preparatory stance. Bobs, shuffles, and then adds a move of his own.
He clicks his heels together, three times, just like Dorothy with her ruby red slippers in "The Wizard of Oz".
The hot pink bowling ball rolls dead center down the aisle, hooking just slightly as it approaches the end, and proceeds to knock down six pins.
"Whoooooe Hoooooe!" shouts the Prance. "Dey deed it! Da shoez wurk!" After a couple of seconds, he amends his previous statement with, "Oeh, coepierite Celeborn!"
Yeah, I think he'd better not forget that, lest the Lord of the Galadhrim finds out he's guilty of copyright infringement.
He goes on to repeat the intricate dance in the horrible bowling shoes, and this time from my place sitting just to the right and behind him I can actually read his lips as they form the words, "Thur'z noe plaese lik hoem." He clicks his heels together, one. . . two. . .three, then completes the first frame by taking down three more pins, giving him an opening score of nine.
"Gosh, Legolas," breathes Lil' Pip. "That's more than your whole score last time, considering that last time you used the bumpers."
"Noe it'z noet!" counters the Prance in typical big brother fashion. "Laest tiem I goet tweentie-foar."
"Like I said. . . ," Lil' Pip mutters under her breath.
His next frame gives him a first roll of four and a second roll of five pins down. He comes hurrying back to stare at the computer monitor overhead, only to be disappointed that it continues showing only the scoreboard.
"What's the matter, Leggy?" Yes Dear asks.
"Whut haeppind tu da leedle kaertuun peepul dat daense arond whin u nock da peenz doewn?" he asks plaintively.
"You have to knock ALL of them down to get the cartoon guys to come dance for you, man," Yes Dear answers him, clapping him on the back and smirking.
"Oeh. . . ," mutters the Prance in his mystical bowling shoes.
Hey, that sounds like the name of a rock group. Prance Legolas and the Magical Mystical Absolutely Disgustingly Horrible Houndstooth Check Bowling Shoes.
Or maybe not.
Anyway, the third frame with the new magical but disgustingly awful bowling shoes is a combination of two pins on the first throw and seven in the second. Not doing too badly this time. Well, not until this point anyway. This point is where I look up to see him sitting in the chair beside me, swallowing hard with tears in his eyes.
"Legolas! For heaven's sake, what's the matter?" I exclaim, thinking the miracle of actually scoring is becoming too much for him, or maybe he's upset because he can't make that last pin drop so that the cartoon characters will perform their antics when it's his turn. Maybe he's afraid that when he returns to Middle-earth there will be a bright green neon- colored tattoo across his forehead that says, 'I Went to Modern-earth and All I Got Was a Gutterball'.
He swallows again, hard and slow, like he's all choked up or something. I follow his gaze over to the lane next to us.
"I waent won of doze," he gulps.
The little girl with the braided brown pigtails in the lane beside us is currently sucking on the biggest dill pickle I think I have ever seen. The juice is running out of the wax paper wrapped around it and trickling down her arm. She's got her face all screwed up and her eyes are full of tears from the sour taste. My elfboy Legolas is tearing up as well.
"Alright. Take a break and go get one," I tell him, handing him some money. He's out of his seat and bolting across the slick floor and onto the carpet and into the snack bar in a heartbeat.
Ten minutes, five napkins, two tissues from my backpack, and a handwashing that includes scrubbing all the way to the elbows brings us to the fourth frame. His first throw leaves him with the dreaded baby split. For those who've never had the opportunity to face this, I'll explain. A single pin stands on the spot closest to the gutter on one side, with a pair of pins all the way across at the edge of the other gutter. It's next to impossible to knock all three of those remaining pins down in a single throw. Legolas steps aside to consult with the expert.
"You go for the pair over there on the left, hit 'em real hard, and hope one will bounce over across with the momentum and take out the single #10 pin," Lil' Pip whispers into his long pointed ear, shielding her words from everyone else who's eavesdropping by holding the thumb side of her hand against her cheek and the pinky finger side just behind his tender flesh. He flinches with each puff of air from her words, especially the ones starting with the letter 'p'. "That's how all the pros do it, just like it says in the book."
He takes his best shot, but the god-awful wizardly bowling shoes are good only for the #7/ #4 combo. The #10 still stands, mocking the ability of the shoes.
Legolas mutters what sounds like an elven curse under his breath and returns to his seat.
He bowls a three in the fifth with roll number one and knocks down six on the second roll. For the sixth frame, he knocks down nine pins with a fantastic throw that leaves the #7 pin wobbling in its track. Everyone holds their breath except Lil' Pip, who runs past him and begins jumping frantically up and down on the pine wood, stomping with both feet in an effort to increase the sway on the still-wriggling pin.
No such luck. The pin setter moves down into place and resets #7, which mocks the bewitched bowling shoes just as its predecessor #10 did three frames ago.
He mutters the elvish curse again.
"What did you say?" I whisper as he comes to sit beside me.
"Vys n'vanima ar' vys atara lanneina," he answers.
"And . . . ?" I inquire.
"An whut?" he replies, growling a bit as he avoids eye contact, crossing his arms over his chest with a grunt.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I prod.
"It meanz 'Ur ueglee an ur muthur draessiz u fuennie'," he says with a smirk.
I'm beginning to think he's enjoying himself entirely too much.
The Prance's seventh frame includes six pins down followed by three more on the second roll, and he's soon stepping onto the approach for the eighth frame. Suddenly, things go awry. Legolas throws the first gutter ball of the second game.
"Whut wuz DAT??!!" he exclaims to himself. Looking over at him, I realize that he has his head down between his knees and he's actually talking to the Magical Horrible Bowling Shoes. He sighs dejectedly when they fail to answer him. He manages to pull off nine pins on the next throw, so maybe it was just a fluke.
It isn't until the ninth frame when the ball rolls down to the very end, hugging the outermost top edge of the gutter to clip the #10 pin by an elf- hairs breadth, that I realize what's gone wrong. He's changed his routine. He added a fourth beat to the heel click.
"Daeng," he mutters as he steps back to pick up his hot pink ball for the ninth frame second roll. "I neuw I shuldn't haev chaenged dat."
Following his earlier ritual to exacting specifications, he manages eight pins down on the next roll.
"Dat'z bedder," he says to the shoes as he steps off the platform. He then turns to Yes Dear and asks, "Ar we dun yaet? I wuld like tu goe sea dat taebul en dere wid all da leedle culurd baellz oen it . . . ."
Remembering my thoughts about demonstrations and displays earlier, I'm quick to interrupt. "I think we should all go to Baskin-Robbins and celebrate Legolas' first time bowling with an ice cream."
"Whooooe Hoooooe! Coepierite Celeborn!" shouts the Prance. His total score for his second game ever in almost three thousand years is a grand total of ninety. Prance Legolas and the Magical Mystical Absolutely Disgustingly Horrible Houndstooth Check Bowling Shoes have enchanted a nine out of every single frame.
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Lub Ledders frum Legolas
Chan: Dere u ar! I meesd u tu! I dunnoe whut it iz abot doze leedle peenz - I kin git all buet won ebery tiem! *huegglz u bak*
SarWolfe Snape: al sez thaenkz fur da huegz. I deed hav a guud tiem boewleeng. I lub doze shoez, doen't u?? *bloewz keesiz*
JastaElf: *droepz tu won nee oen da floar, haed bowed, beafoar leepeeng tu my feat an hueggin u maedlee* Suilad, Ada! Hannon le fur da LBS! Dey wear vary guud. Iz Jasta teecheeng u hoew tu kuuk? Duz she leat u likk da beederz? al leatz me due it, an datz da baest paert. *slydz tu da floar en a pueddil of Elf spooege* *moemintz paess . . . .* Ai, Ada, 'tis trew . . .it iz aelmoest tiem fur me tu reaturn, eben tho I noe dat meenz I muest reapoart tu Arwen abot Araporn an heez hueman waeyz. Dwaerf pursun? *luukz at da bueg dere oen da seeling* I dunnoe whut Saeros ez taelkin abot . . . . Az fur a reaward fur al an da faemilee, I weel hav tu theenk oen dat. I theenk da oenlee thaeng dat wuld maek al haeppie wuld bea da saem thaeng she goet fur Chreestmus laest yeer, an I dunnoe hoew tu giv her dat. *seandz beeg huegz an keesiz tu u an Jasta*
daw the minstrel: Yaes Deer iz a vary spaeshul huezbaend. He puetz uep wid a loet of thaengz dat moest huemanz wuldn't. I dunnoe whoe culd dowbt my Elflinaess, due u? *geeglz*
The Two Princesses: Hae, due dey hav boewleeng doewn uendur whur u liv? Whitch waey duez da baell roell whin u throew it? Iz it baekwurdz like da wader en da toewlit? Woew. I thank ur rite - I culd hav dun bedder if I head my vary oewn baell an shoez. *xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo!!!!*
Laura: Luuk hoew muech bedder I deed whin eberythaeng mached! U goet tu luuk ur baest tu bea ur baest. *seandz loetz of huegz an keesiz rite bak tu u!!!!*
Dragon-of-the-north:*huegz u* Whur deed u goe? Deed u hav a guud tiem? Dat Yaes Deer theenkz he'z fuennie, duzn't he, naemin me 'Orkbayt'. *groewlz at YD*
Writer from Rivendell: Hear iz a kemical foermula fur u: if u puet 3 droepz of read fuud culuring en a teespuun of wader an den riense it ober ur tung an den druul doewn ur cheen an oentu ur shiert, u kin giv al a fizeologikal reeakshun dat ez a loet of fuen tu wach! Jest kuvur ur eerz furst. *chueklz like a mayniak*
That is SOOOO not funny, Legolas.
I thot it wuz. . . .
Michelle6: I culdn't git da leenk tu wurk. Whoe duz Matt luuk like? Iz it Araporn?? *smuuch*
Nilmandra: Doze leedle gurlz hav krownz an boewaz? Oeh, boey!!! Abot dat boewleeng thaeng, luuk hoew much bedder I deed whin my baell an my shoez mached! I theenk my balaence wuz jest oeff. Due u eber hav doze kiend of dayz? *gievz u a loeng sweat keez oen da leepz*
Katiani Petitedra: U hav Eureka?? Iz dat guud? Shuld I caell an aembuelanse? *wurriez abot u*
Phoenix Flight: I deed bedder dis tiem. Roellin a baell iz noet az ezy az it luukz. *skweeziz u*
Sperry Dee: Woew! Threa strikz! Woew! Iz ur leag fealeeng bedder? Leat me sea dat . . . . *puelz ur laeg entu my laep an gievz u a geantul fuut maessage *Hoewz dat?
LandosStar: Deed u sea my shoez?? Dat nise maen fownd dem jest fur me. Thaenkz fur da cuukeez! *huegz u*
Space-Case 7029: I deed fianully git 50 peenz. Yaes Deer steel caelz me 'Orkbayt' tho sumtiemz. al sez tu tael u thaenk u vary muech fur da beast weeshz. *snuegglz u*
Lady Peredhel: Wael, whut due u thaenk? Hulloe? Hulloe??? I gess u an Haldir ar noet dun wid dat lawndree yaet . . . .
Deb: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) Dey hav gudder gardz. An kuet leedle dukz tuu. Yaes Deer steel calz me 'Orkbayt' sumtiemz. (al duzn't hav a. . . uhmm. . . a skar, buet she saeyz fur sum peepul dat wuz TMI, whuteber dat meenz) *Smuuchez u bak*
Fadesintothewest: Haveeng shoez an a baell dat goe tugethur haelpz a hoel loet, az u kin sea. U hav tu luuk guud tuu, u noe! *bloewz u a kees*
Lady Silence: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) Boewleeng iz FUEN! An Haelowean iz eben BEDDER! *hoeldz uep da growshuree baeg fuell of kaendee I goet* Hear, hav sum!
Vladimir's Angel: I em glaed tu hear ur bedder! I haed tu wate awile tu git doez spaeshul majik shoez. Mebbe if u aeskd reel nise dey mite hav a pare hieddin awae sumwhare u culd uze? I deedn't git a hoet dawg, buet da peekulz ar deelishus *snuegglz*
Newmoon: U deafinitlee nead da neaown shoez. Dey maek boewleeng a loet moer toalerabul. I culdn't due a thaeng wid doez othur shoez. *huegz an keesiz fu u*
Holly :o) : Bean wid fraendz dat u lub maekz a loet of deefurense, duzn't it? I doen't thaenk it matturz whut ur skor iz if u hav a guud time wid ur fraendz. Due u like dese shoez bedder? *weenkz at u*
The Karenator: Dat'z rite, an noew dat my shoez mach, luuk hoew muech bedder I em duen! Due u like my Taellie Tuebbie koestum? Thaenk u fur da ideea! An speekeeng of Galadriel, I neber deed like dat miend reedeen thaeng she duz. I meen, iz nuthin prievit??? Du u thaenk if I ware da eer pluegz mebbe she culdn't git ensied my haed? *taekz eer pluegz n givez u a beeg kees*
Magical Rachel: Oeh noe, mellon-nin. I theenk boewleeng iz FUEN! Wonse I goet eberythaeng coo-oerdinadid, I deed muech bedder! I am glaed u ar dueng bedder an dat Unie iz goeng waell. *seandz u sum elbin lub*
elbee: I baeg ur paerdun?!! I doen't smaell peatulint! Dat'zx huennysuekl ur smaelleeng. *al whispers in the pointed ear that petulant means the Prance . . .uh, FELT annoyed, yes . . . .* Oeh, okae. . . . *skweazes u*
Grammar Laedee: Oeld aege muest meen dat da reevew bowrd iz aelloweeng u tu mueltipul poest tu. Noet eberybuddie gitz tu due dat. Elves git oeld, we jest doen't reenkul-eggsept Elrond, buet dat peredhel iz haf hueman whitch iz moestlee oen heez foarhaed. *gievz u a beeg hueg*
anna: Hae dere! Deed u like my Haellowean koestum? I hoep u ar steel haevin a guud weak! *bloez u a kees*
Pineapple Princess: Woew! Dat'z a loet of daensing praktise! Mebbe u shuld puet dat akshun feegur uendur da coevurz wid doze nivez an sea whut haeppinz tu dat baed spydur. *seandz u a smuuch*
rakoiel: Thaenkz fur da shoez, buet u sea I aelfedy hav sum! Al sed tug iv da cleetz bak tu; she duzn't wtaent tu taek a chaense I weel waelk oen her kitchen floar wid dem. *cueddlz*
PuterPatty: *groawlz* U hav goetten tu sea me due a loet of thaengz fur da furst tiem, hueh amelamin?? Due I baend ober like dis? *baendz ober like I em roellin da baell an wreeglz my heepz uentil my jeenz fiet bedder* Iz dat guud? Hoew abot dis move? Due u like dat? *skoopz u uep an snoegz da braeth odda u*
Lil' Pip: Dat'z okae, I em noet speekin tu u eethur. I dunnoe whie u deedn't seand me a ledder fur chaeptur 13. I due noe whie I deedn't seand u won. I deedn't seand u won beacuz u deedn't seand me won. If u seand me won, I kin seand u won. Den u kin seand me anuthur won, an I weel seand u anuthur won tu. I em soerrie if u deedn't git dat, buet den I kin't eggsplain it tu u beacuz I em noet speekin tu u, reamimbur? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's enough of that. You did a nice job, Prance.
I noe. Thaenkz, al. *sieghz deejektidlee*
What's the matter?
I dunnoe abot dat boewleeng. Luuk at whut haeppind tu my feengurnalez. Dere all toern uep.
*rolls eyes at the ceiling, sighs, and then hands the Prance the nailclippers*
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Chapter 15 If the Shoe Fits
Jeepers. Not again.
Legolas has got the most incredible knack for disappearing, hasn't he? Sometimes I swear I'm gonna get him a leash.
While Yes Dear clears the old scores and sets up the next game, I start my search. "Did anyone see where Legolas wandered off to?" I ask the neighboring bowlers. Everyone shakes their head no.
"Maybe he went to the bathroom," pipes in one of the cute little girls, the one with the braided pigtails in her dark brown hair.
"Maybe he's playing one of those games you have to put money in, "says the one in the pink 'Hello Kitty' shirt.
"Maybe he went to the snack bar to get some French fries," says the tallest one. "I wouldn't mind having some French fries with ketchup right now."
"Mommy, I gotta go to the bathroom too," says the teeny-tiny little one, tugging on her mother's arm.
I try the snack bar first, since it's closest. Surely by now he's gotten hungry and the smell of chilidogs and popcorn are calling his stomach by name. If he's found out they sell whole dill pickles, there'll be no leaving until the jar is empty, I'm sure.
There's no Legolas at the snack bar. I head over to the adjoining pool room, thinking surely the green felt-covered tables with all the multicolored striped and solid balls would hold his attention if he spotted them. I half-expect to find him stretched out across a table, cue stick in hand, trying some impossible trick shot just like the pros, surrrounded by half-a-dozen female spectators staring blatantly at the display instead of the demonstration.
Still no Legolas.
I catch up with Yes Dear on his way to the check the men's restroom and, after a brief conference, I decide to see if the Prance has mistakenly wandered into the ladies room by accident. No luck for either of us.
"You don't think he went out to the car, do you?" Yes Dear asks.
"Gosh, I hope not," I answer. "It's pouring down rain. Plus his Nike Air's are still sitting underneath his chair. He took so long picking them out, I KNOW he wouldn't walk off and leave those."
As we leave the concession area, I happen to glance back to where Lil' Pip waits for us, sitting there in her chair at Lane #13. There in the seat beside her sits 'Orcbait', pulling off his maroon and navy bowling shoes.
Thinking he's unhappy enough with his performance so far that he's in a hurry to go home, I trot over to our lane to reassure him that everybody takes a bit of time to get the knack of rolling a ball 60 feet and knocking down a row of pins. Except when I get to the chairs, I realize he's not given up quite yet. Not in the least.
On the seat beside him sits a pair of the most hideous rental bowling shoes ever created. Not only are they neon green, orange, yellow, and pink, but they're patterned in HOUNDSTOOTH CHECK.
"Luuk at da shoez da maen at da daesk foewnd jest fur me!" he crows, holding the putrid things aloft. "Noew u bedder wach owt, 'Arwen'," he teases. "Wonse my shoez an my baell maech, u ar noet gunna bea aebul tu beet me!"
Gads, he's positively giddy.
Lil' Pip rolls first, me second, Yes Dear third, and suddenly it's fashion conscious 'Orcbait's' turn. Proud as a peacock, he struts to the ball return, making sure to nod and smile at each of the little ladies watching enraptured to his left. He turns to the right and gives a wink to the tourney couple. Picks up the ball. Inserts his fingers. Begins his preparatory stance. Bobs, shuffles, and then adds a move of his own.
He clicks his heels together, three times, just like Dorothy with her ruby red slippers in "The Wizard of Oz".
The hot pink bowling ball rolls dead center down the aisle, hooking just slightly as it approaches the end, and proceeds to knock down six pins.
"Whoooooe Hoooooe!" shouts the Prance. "Dey deed it! Da shoez wurk!" After a couple of seconds, he amends his previous statement with, "Oeh, coepierite Celeborn!"
Yeah, I think he'd better not forget that, lest the Lord of the Galadhrim finds out he's guilty of copyright infringement.
He goes on to repeat the intricate dance in the horrible bowling shoes, and this time from my place sitting just to the right and behind him I can actually read his lips as they form the words, "Thur'z noe plaese lik hoem." He clicks his heels together, one. . . two. . .three, then completes the first frame by taking down three more pins, giving him an opening score of nine.
"Gosh, Legolas," breathes Lil' Pip. "That's more than your whole score last time, considering that last time you used the bumpers."
"Noe it'z noet!" counters the Prance in typical big brother fashion. "Laest tiem I goet tweentie-foar."
"Like I said. . . ," Lil' Pip mutters under her breath.
His next frame gives him a first roll of four and a second roll of five pins down. He comes hurrying back to stare at the computer monitor overhead, only to be disappointed that it continues showing only the scoreboard.
"What's the matter, Leggy?" Yes Dear asks.
"Whut haeppind tu da leedle kaertuun peepul dat daense arond whin u nock da peenz doewn?" he asks plaintively.
"You have to knock ALL of them down to get the cartoon guys to come dance for you, man," Yes Dear answers him, clapping him on the back and smirking.
"Oeh. . . ," mutters the Prance in his mystical bowling shoes.
Hey, that sounds like the name of a rock group. Prance Legolas and the Magical Mystical Absolutely Disgustingly Horrible Houndstooth Check Bowling Shoes.
Or maybe not.
Anyway, the third frame with the new magical but disgustingly awful bowling shoes is a combination of two pins on the first throw and seven in the second. Not doing too badly this time. Well, not until this point anyway. This point is where I look up to see him sitting in the chair beside me, swallowing hard with tears in his eyes.
"Legolas! For heaven's sake, what's the matter?" I exclaim, thinking the miracle of actually scoring is becoming too much for him, or maybe he's upset because he can't make that last pin drop so that the cartoon characters will perform their antics when it's his turn. Maybe he's afraid that when he returns to Middle-earth there will be a bright green neon- colored tattoo across his forehead that says, 'I Went to Modern-earth and All I Got Was a Gutterball'.
He swallows again, hard and slow, like he's all choked up or something. I follow his gaze over to the lane next to us.
"I waent won of doze," he gulps.
The little girl with the braided brown pigtails in the lane beside us is currently sucking on the biggest dill pickle I think I have ever seen. The juice is running out of the wax paper wrapped around it and trickling down her arm. She's got her face all screwed up and her eyes are full of tears from the sour taste. My elfboy Legolas is tearing up as well.
"Alright. Take a break and go get one," I tell him, handing him some money. He's out of his seat and bolting across the slick floor and onto the carpet and into the snack bar in a heartbeat.
Ten minutes, five napkins, two tissues from my backpack, and a handwashing that includes scrubbing all the way to the elbows brings us to the fourth frame. His first throw leaves him with the dreaded baby split. For those who've never had the opportunity to face this, I'll explain. A single pin stands on the spot closest to the gutter on one side, with a pair of pins all the way across at the edge of the other gutter. It's next to impossible to knock all three of those remaining pins down in a single throw. Legolas steps aside to consult with the expert.
"You go for the pair over there on the left, hit 'em real hard, and hope one will bounce over across with the momentum and take out the single #10 pin," Lil' Pip whispers into his long pointed ear, shielding her words from everyone else who's eavesdropping by holding the thumb side of her hand against her cheek and the pinky finger side just behind his tender flesh. He flinches with each puff of air from her words, especially the ones starting with the letter 'p'. "That's how all the pros do it, just like it says in the book."
He takes his best shot, but the god-awful wizardly bowling shoes are good only for the #7/ #4 combo. The #10 still stands, mocking the ability of the shoes.
Legolas mutters what sounds like an elven curse under his breath and returns to his seat.
He bowls a three in the fifth with roll number one and knocks down six on the second roll. For the sixth frame, he knocks down nine pins with a fantastic throw that leaves the #7 pin wobbling in its track. Everyone holds their breath except Lil' Pip, who runs past him and begins jumping frantically up and down on the pine wood, stomping with both feet in an effort to increase the sway on the still-wriggling pin.
No such luck. The pin setter moves down into place and resets #7, which mocks the bewitched bowling shoes just as its predecessor #10 did three frames ago.
He mutters the elvish curse again.
"What did you say?" I whisper as he comes to sit beside me.
"Vys n'vanima ar' vys atara lanneina," he answers.
"And . . . ?" I inquire.
"An whut?" he replies, growling a bit as he avoids eye contact, crossing his arms over his chest with a grunt.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I prod.
"It meanz 'Ur ueglee an ur muthur draessiz u fuennie'," he says with a smirk.
I'm beginning to think he's enjoying himself entirely too much.
The Prance's seventh frame includes six pins down followed by three more on the second roll, and he's soon stepping onto the approach for the eighth frame. Suddenly, things go awry. Legolas throws the first gutter ball of the second game.
"Whut wuz DAT??!!" he exclaims to himself. Looking over at him, I realize that he has his head down between his knees and he's actually talking to the Magical Horrible Bowling Shoes. He sighs dejectedly when they fail to answer him. He manages to pull off nine pins on the next throw, so maybe it was just a fluke.
It isn't until the ninth frame when the ball rolls down to the very end, hugging the outermost top edge of the gutter to clip the #10 pin by an elf- hairs breadth, that I realize what's gone wrong. He's changed his routine. He added a fourth beat to the heel click.
"Daeng," he mutters as he steps back to pick up his hot pink ball for the ninth frame second roll. "I neuw I shuldn't haev chaenged dat."
Following his earlier ritual to exacting specifications, he manages eight pins down on the next roll.
"Dat'z bedder," he says to the shoes as he steps off the platform. He then turns to Yes Dear and asks, "Ar we dun yaet? I wuld like tu goe sea dat taebul en dere wid all da leedle culurd baellz oen it . . . ."
Remembering my thoughts about demonstrations and displays earlier, I'm quick to interrupt. "I think we should all go to Baskin-Robbins and celebrate Legolas' first time bowling with an ice cream."
"Whooooe Hoooooe! Coepierite Celeborn!" shouts the Prance. His total score for his second game ever in almost three thousand years is a grand total of ninety. Prance Legolas and the Magical Mystical Absolutely Disgustingly Horrible Houndstooth Check Bowling Shoes have enchanted a nine out of every single frame.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledders frum Legolas
Chan: Dere u ar! I meesd u tu! I dunnoe whut it iz abot doze leedle peenz - I kin git all buet won ebery tiem! *huegglz u bak*
SarWolfe Snape: al sez thaenkz fur da huegz. I deed hav a guud tiem boewleeng. I lub doze shoez, doen't u?? *bloewz keesiz*
JastaElf: *droepz tu won nee oen da floar, haed bowed, beafoar leepeeng tu my feat an hueggin u maedlee* Suilad, Ada! Hannon le fur da LBS! Dey wear vary guud. Iz Jasta teecheeng u hoew tu kuuk? Duz she leat u likk da beederz? al leatz me due it, an datz da baest paert. *slydz tu da floar en a pueddil of Elf spooege* *moemintz paess . . . .* Ai, Ada, 'tis trew . . .it iz aelmoest tiem fur me tu reaturn, eben tho I noe dat meenz I muest reapoart tu Arwen abot Araporn an heez hueman waeyz. Dwaerf pursun? *luukz at da bueg dere oen da seeling* I dunnoe whut Saeros ez taelkin abot . . . . Az fur a reaward fur al an da faemilee, I weel hav tu theenk oen dat. I theenk da oenlee thaeng dat wuld maek al haeppie wuld bea da saem thaeng she goet fur Chreestmus laest yeer, an I dunnoe hoew tu giv her dat. *seandz beeg huegz an keesiz tu u an Jasta*
daw the minstrel: Yaes Deer iz a vary spaeshul huezbaend. He puetz uep wid a loet of thaengz dat moest huemanz wuldn't. I dunnoe whoe culd dowbt my Elflinaess, due u? *geeglz*
The Two Princesses: Hae, due dey hav boewleeng doewn uendur whur u liv? Whitch waey duez da baell roell whin u throew it? Iz it baekwurdz like da wader en da toewlit? Woew. I thank ur rite - I culd hav dun bedder if I head my vary oewn baell an shoez. *xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo!!!!*
Laura: Luuk hoew muech bedder I deed whin eberythaeng mached! U goet tu luuk ur baest tu bea ur baest. *seandz loetz of huegz an keesiz rite bak tu u!!!!*
Dragon-of-the-north:*huegz u* Whur deed u goe? Deed u hav a guud tiem? Dat Yaes Deer theenkz he'z fuennie, duzn't he, naemin me 'Orkbayt'. *groewlz at YD*
Writer from Rivendell: Hear iz a kemical foermula fur u: if u puet 3 droepz of read fuud culuring en a teespuun of wader an den riense it ober ur tung an den druul doewn ur cheen an oentu ur shiert, u kin giv al a fizeologikal reeakshun dat ez a loet of fuen tu wach! Jest kuvur ur eerz furst. *chueklz like a mayniak*
That is SOOOO not funny, Legolas.
I thot it wuz. . . .
Michelle6: I culdn't git da leenk tu wurk. Whoe duz Matt luuk like? Iz it Araporn?? *smuuch*
Nilmandra: Doze leedle gurlz hav krownz an boewaz? Oeh, boey!!! Abot dat boewleeng thaeng, luuk hoew much bedder I deed whin my baell an my shoez mached! I theenk my balaence wuz jest oeff. Due u eber hav doze kiend of dayz? *gievz u a loeng sweat keez oen da leepz*
Katiani Petitedra: U hav Eureka?? Iz dat guud? Shuld I caell an aembuelanse? *wurriez abot u*
Phoenix Flight: I deed bedder dis tiem. Roellin a baell iz noet az ezy az it luukz. *skweeziz u*
Sperry Dee: Woew! Threa strikz! Woew! Iz ur leag fealeeng bedder? Leat me sea dat . . . . *puelz ur laeg entu my laep an gievz u a geantul fuut maessage *Hoewz dat?
LandosStar: Deed u sea my shoez?? Dat nise maen fownd dem jest fur me. Thaenkz fur da cuukeez! *huegz u*
Space-Case 7029: I deed fianully git 50 peenz. Yaes Deer steel caelz me 'Orkbayt' tho sumtiemz. al sez tu tael u thaenk u vary muech fur da beast weeshz. *snuegglz u*
Lady Peredhel: Wael, whut due u thaenk? Hulloe? Hulloe??? I gess u an Haldir ar noet dun wid dat lawndree yaet . . . .
Deb: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) Dey hav gudder gardz. An kuet leedle dukz tuu. Yaes Deer steel calz me 'Orkbayt' sumtiemz. (al duzn't hav a. . . uhmm. . . a skar, buet she saeyz fur sum peepul dat wuz TMI, whuteber dat meenz) *Smuuchez u bak*
Fadesintothewest: Haveeng shoez an a baell dat goe tugethur haelpz a hoel loet, az u kin sea. U hav tu luuk guud tuu, u noe! *bloewz u a kees*
Lady Silence: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) Boewleeng iz FUEN! An Haelowean iz eben BEDDER! *hoeldz uep da growshuree baeg fuell of kaendee I goet* Hear, hav sum!
Vladimir's Angel: I em glaed tu hear ur bedder! I haed tu wate awile tu git doez spaeshul majik shoez. Mebbe if u aeskd reel nise dey mite hav a pare hieddin awae sumwhare u culd uze? I deedn't git a hoet dawg, buet da peekulz ar deelishus *snuegglz*
Newmoon: U deafinitlee nead da neaown shoez. Dey maek boewleeng a loet moer toalerabul. I culdn't due a thaeng wid doez othur shoez. *huegz an keesiz fu u*
Holly :o) : Bean wid fraendz dat u lub maekz a loet of deefurense, duzn't it? I doen't thaenk it matturz whut ur skor iz if u hav a guud time wid ur fraendz. Due u like dese shoez bedder? *weenkz at u*
The Karenator: Dat'z rite, an noew dat my shoez mach, luuk hoew muech bedder I em duen! Due u like my Taellie Tuebbie koestum? Thaenk u fur da ideea! An speekeeng of Galadriel, I neber deed like dat miend reedeen thaeng she duz. I meen, iz nuthin prievit??? Du u thaenk if I ware da eer pluegz mebbe she culdn't git ensied my haed? *taekz eer pluegz n givez u a beeg kees*
Magical Rachel: Oeh noe, mellon-nin. I theenk boewleeng iz FUEN! Wonse I goet eberythaeng coo-oerdinadid, I deed muech bedder! I am glaed u ar dueng bedder an dat Unie iz goeng waell. *seandz u sum elbin lub*
elbee: I baeg ur paerdun?!! I doen't smaell peatulint! Dat'zx huennysuekl ur smaelleeng. *al whispers in the pointed ear that petulant means the Prance . . .uh, FELT annoyed, yes . . . .* Oeh, okae. . . . *skweazes u*
Grammar Laedee: Oeld aege muest meen dat da reevew bowrd iz aelloweeng u tu mueltipul poest tu. Noet eberybuddie gitz tu due dat. Elves git oeld, we jest doen't reenkul-eggsept Elrond, buet dat peredhel iz haf hueman whitch iz moestlee oen heez foarhaed. *gievz u a beeg hueg*
anna: Hae dere! Deed u like my Haellowean koestum? I hoep u ar steel haevin a guud weak! *bloez u a kees*
Pineapple Princess: Woew! Dat'z a loet of daensing praktise! Mebbe u shuld puet dat akshun feegur uendur da coevurz wid doze nivez an sea whut haeppinz tu dat baed spydur. *seandz u a smuuch*
rakoiel: Thaenkz fur da shoez, buet u sea I aelfedy hav sum! Al sed tug iv da cleetz bak tu; she duzn't wtaent tu taek a chaense I weel waelk oen her kitchen floar wid dem. *cueddlz*
PuterPatty: *groawlz* U hav goetten tu sea me due a loet of thaengz fur da furst tiem, hueh amelamin?? Due I baend ober like dis? *baendz ober like I em roellin da baell an wreeglz my heepz uentil my jeenz fiet bedder* Iz dat guud? Hoew abot dis move? Due u like dat? *skoopz u uep an snoegz da braeth odda u*
Lil' Pip: Dat'z okae, I em noet speekin tu u eethur. I dunnoe whie u deedn't seand me a ledder fur chaeptur 13. I due noe whie I deedn't seand u won. I deedn't seand u won beacuz u deedn't seand me won. If u seand me won, I kin seand u won. Den u kin seand me anuthur won, an I weel seand u anuthur won tu. I em soerrie if u deedn't git dat, buet den I kin't eggsplain it tu u beacuz I em noet speekin tu u, reamimbur? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That's enough of that. You did a nice job, Prance.
I noe. Thaenkz, al. *sieghz deejektidlee*
What's the matter?
I dunnoe abot dat boewleeng. Luuk at whut haeppind tu my feengurnalez. Dere all toern uep.
*rolls eyes at the ceiling, sighs, and then hands the Prance the nailclippers*