Satirical misadventures
Disclaimer: I dub thee the stupidest person alive if you believe me to be the deceased genius, J.R.R Tolkein. You fool!
~/*\~/*\~/*\~ Chapter One: Getting there for a start! ~/*\~/*\~/*\~
I would like to take this time in order to introduce the heroine of this series of complete and utter disasters - me! Yes, ah dear, would you look at that? A self-insertion author story of all things! [Gasp]. Oh no, and I bet you believe I'm going to end up as a pretty elf and attempt to get into Legolas' tights (or various other male, female, hermaphrodite figures in the world of Middle Earth.) I can't promise that I won't turn into a nymphomaniac half way through and attempt to jump various characters, but I can promise that I won't be a pretty elf...
Well, technically, I promise nothing at all, since I have to attempt to get into this blasted Middle Earth place first. Now, looking through other stories in which people from 'our' world get sucked into Middle Earth, I find they're all taken in by magic, or some kind of electrocution business. Neither of these appeals to me much...since magic is well [snort] think it through yourself. And being electrocuted doesn't sound...well, nice, if you catch my drift?
Any suggestions on how I can get into Middle Earth then? Maybe if I get drunk...and fall asleep in the middle of some lonely moor in the middle of a snow storm, I'll get there. I suppose it might be worth a try... Shall we go? I think the aptly named 'Prancing Pony' down the road should do well enough. Maybe a place named so could lead me through a drunken stupor towards Middle Earth? If not, then I shall have to try another way, or this series of (mis)adventures will not get very far, will it?
Now, off we go. Do grab your coats on the way out, it is rather a chilly evening, and I wouldn't want you all to catch colds. I will of course be grabbing a sword that is far too heavy for me to heft, and waving it around with mystical ease whilst I'm waiting. Hmm, hah, I challenge you, Master Mist, to a duel. What's that, dog? You are but water vapour, you say? Ah, your fancy words shall not fool me, hyahh, take that!
So, are you ready yet? Do come along, this mist is beginning to build, and we don't want to lose our way tonight. Not when I have enough money on me to drink a whole herd of iron-stomached elephants into a coma. And, well, there are rather a few of you coming along, so I suppose drinks are on me!
I knew that would get you moving. Tally-ho!
*
Here it is everyone, the 'Prancing Pony'. I do apologise for the very un- Tolkein-ish look, what with all those neon lights and rather [blush] scantily clad 'women of the night' upon the corner. I do apologise. Oh, and young men, I would advise against going over to those young ladies... The last man they took on business was found completely drained of blood in a coffin of all things. Funny old world, isn't it? Not going to go? Oh, marvellous, good, good!
Let's go in. Phwoar, it's a lot warmer in here than outside. Again, I will apologise for this place...as far as I know, those pole-dancers weren't here the last time I visited. Oh dear me, I'm not sure we're in the right place at all. You, young man, get back here at once! Don't tou- Too late. Please ladies and gentleman, back away from the lust-daemon, and exit through the swing doors to the left. If you won't follow my instructions, I'm afraid you may find yourselves in danger. Please, stick close now, and don't wander off.
Aha, here it is - the landlord likes to swap residences every so often to keep off the tax rebuttals. It's not bad here, is it? Shame about the pool table taking up so much room though - if you all squish onto that windowsill I think we'll all fit. OK, drinks all round then? What, orange juice! That won't do I'm afraid Miss, it has to be an alcoholic beverage, otherwise this whole exercise will be useless, and you will be left behind here whilst the rest of the drunken masses come with me to Middle Earth. All right, a Bacardi Breezer to ease you into it then? Good, so a Bacardi Breezer, and the rest for beer?
Wonderful! Now, Bert! Bert, hello?
If you'd just put the shotgun down Bert... I'm not a tax collector, I swear! Remember, I'm Soda from down the road. Yes, that's right, you remember. Thank you, I'd love to order. See that party of people over there - they all want beers, but one of them would like a Bacardi Breezer to start off with - Cranberry or Melon my dear? Cranberry. I'll leave you to count them all out; oh, and can you just give me your strongest liquor if you please. Oh no, money is no object. Of course I'm underage! You know that. Now, stop with the silly questions, and start serving man!
Ack, finally. Sorry about the locals, they're all a bit edgy around here. What was that? Why do I get the strongest liquor? I would have thought that was obvious! No? Well, as your guide through all of this, I will need to remain at the front of the party, and, well, not to boast, but I can hold my drink, so I need to have some strong stuff to keep ahead of all of you.
You laugh sir? Well, humph! Oh, thank you Bert. 'Gut-blaster whisky, 1968' - mm, a good year was it? Oh...it wasn't. Oh well, here goes; come and collect your drinks everyone, and get started!
[Glug]. O.O That stuff's strong. By gum, look at that, the ceiling's moving! Am I sexy? Do you think I'm sexy? I think you're sexy. Oh yes I do sir, you're very nice. [Collapsing sound.]
[Snores]
~*~*~*~ The Next Day ~*~*~*~
Oh God...what on Earth did I drink yesterday? OH! Of course, we were trying to get into Middle Earth, weren't we? Did it work?
Hello? Oh dear goodness, where have they all gone? Hello, hello? I know we didn't manage to get in, but there's no reason to hide or run away - surely, there must be another way to get in... Anyone?
Wait a minute... What if... They got in. And I didn't?
Bugger it! That just takes the biscuit! The actual leader doesn't manage to get through, but the rest of them do! Just great that is! ARGH! Why me? How on earth can that be the least bit fair, hmm? Come on, smite me! Smite me damnit, and send me to the weird world of elves, hobbits, dwarves and...other things. Whoa, this hangover is even making me forget about Tolkein!
This isn't fair. [Cries.] I was supposed to be getting in, not them. It was my idea! This is my self-insertion, and here I am, the only one left of the whole group not in. Stupid, stupid magic stuff. I hate it! Stupid, stupid!
Eep! Oh, it's you Miss. Bacardi Breezer, right? What's that you say. You know a way to get there without getting drunk. Well...why didn't you say something earlier! You didn't want to miss out on free drinks... Oh, thanks a bunch, you greedy bi- Oh, what's that shiny thing you're holding.
Don't be absurd, there's no such thing as magic! Now, grow up, and tell me the real way to get to...
Middle Earth! So I did manage to get here after all! Thank you Miss Bacardi Breezer woman! Miss? What the hell is it with people disappearing all around me? Is this the effect that self-insertion fiction really has? How odd...oh well, I'd best take this sword which is about twice my height and far too heavy, and try to beat up Aragorn or something.
Wait a minute...
Twice my height.
Opposed to just being too heavy for me to lift. No. I have to be imagining this. I knew I wouldn't get to choose which race I would be part of, but this can't be. This wouldn't be at all fair if what I think is true. I must find myself a pool of water or a mirror or something! (Let's make that I must find something with a reflective surface, that will show me without distorting the image or using any kind of magic to trick me and so on and so-forth).
Here we are, a nice conveniently placed mirror on this here tree. Oh, there's Rivendell over there - what a waterfall! Much better in person than I thought it would be. I wonder if Frodo is already awake and talking to Bilbo about his book, or if Gandalf has even arrived yet... Hmm, anyway, back to this weirdly placed mirror.
I know it's only five foot off the ground, but I can't see in it. How odd. I was sure I'd grown a bit in the past year... Oh, a set of steps, how quaint! Let's ascend them, and see whether I really am a... Oh dear, I am.
Marvellous. Spiffing.
I'm a hobbit. A bloody hobbit! Of all the races (the pretty ones at least), I had to be a hobbit! Well, I suppose one must look on the bright side. At least I'm not a dwarf [flinches, as if expecting to be turned into a dwarf at any moment]. Curses. It looks like this completely unfeasible weapon is even more unfeasible for use by a now very short girl. I'll have to leave it behind.
Now, to get to Rivendell, and use the magical powers I'm sure I will of course discover in order to save the world. Maybe I'm actually the long- lost sister of Frodo (since I'm a hobbit and all), and together we will save the world. Or, maybe I will in fact be the real bearer of the ring, and will then discover an unheard of ring and use it's powers to beat Sauron and all his dark forces with one hand tied behind my back!
We shall see, we shall see...
~/*\~/*\~/*\~
Parodies are made for the sole use of the strange enjoyment of the author. However, if you actually found any of this funny, the author would be interested in a kindred spirit of humour to talk to. So review...or I'll...actually, just review...or not...whatever you like really...bye now.
Disclaimer: I dub thee the stupidest person alive if you believe me to be the deceased genius, J.R.R Tolkein. You fool!
~/*\~/*\~/*\~ Chapter One: Getting there for a start! ~/*\~/*\~/*\~
I would like to take this time in order to introduce the heroine of this series of complete and utter disasters - me! Yes, ah dear, would you look at that? A self-insertion author story of all things! [Gasp]. Oh no, and I bet you believe I'm going to end up as a pretty elf and attempt to get into Legolas' tights (or various other male, female, hermaphrodite figures in the world of Middle Earth.) I can't promise that I won't turn into a nymphomaniac half way through and attempt to jump various characters, but I can promise that I won't be a pretty elf...
Well, technically, I promise nothing at all, since I have to attempt to get into this blasted Middle Earth place first. Now, looking through other stories in which people from 'our' world get sucked into Middle Earth, I find they're all taken in by magic, or some kind of electrocution business. Neither of these appeals to me much...since magic is well [snort] think it through yourself. And being electrocuted doesn't sound...well, nice, if you catch my drift?
Any suggestions on how I can get into Middle Earth then? Maybe if I get drunk...and fall asleep in the middle of some lonely moor in the middle of a snow storm, I'll get there. I suppose it might be worth a try... Shall we go? I think the aptly named 'Prancing Pony' down the road should do well enough. Maybe a place named so could lead me through a drunken stupor towards Middle Earth? If not, then I shall have to try another way, or this series of (mis)adventures will not get very far, will it?
Now, off we go. Do grab your coats on the way out, it is rather a chilly evening, and I wouldn't want you all to catch colds. I will of course be grabbing a sword that is far too heavy for me to heft, and waving it around with mystical ease whilst I'm waiting. Hmm, hah, I challenge you, Master Mist, to a duel. What's that, dog? You are but water vapour, you say? Ah, your fancy words shall not fool me, hyahh, take that!
So, are you ready yet? Do come along, this mist is beginning to build, and we don't want to lose our way tonight. Not when I have enough money on me to drink a whole herd of iron-stomached elephants into a coma. And, well, there are rather a few of you coming along, so I suppose drinks are on me!
I knew that would get you moving. Tally-ho!
*
Here it is everyone, the 'Prancing Pony'. I do apologise for the very un- Tolkein-ish look, what with all those neon lights and rather [blush] scantily clad 'women of the night' upon the corner. I do apologise. Oh, and young men, I would advise against going over to those young ladies... The last man they took on business was found completely drained of blood in a coffin of all things. Funny old world, isn't it? Not going to go? Oh, marvellous, good, good!
Let's go in. Phwoar, it's a lot warmer in here than outside. Again, I will apologise for this place...as far as I know, those pole-dancers weren't here the last time I visited. Oh dear me, I'm not sure we're in the right place at all. You, young man, get back here at once! Don't tou- Too late. Please ladies and gentleman, back away from the lust-daemon, and exit through the swing doors to the left. If you won't follow my instructions, I'm afraid you may find yourselves in danger. Please, stick close now, and don't wander off.
Aha, here it is - the landlord likes to swap residences every so often to keep off the tax rebuttals. It's not bad here, is it? Shame about the pool table taking up so much room though - if you all squish onto that windowsill I think we'll all fit. OK, drinks all round then? What, orange juice! That won't do I'm afraid Miss, it has to be an alcoholic beverage, otherwise this whole exercise will be useless, and you will be left behind here whilst the rest of the drunken masses come with me to Middle Earth. All right, a Bacardi Breezer to ease you into it then? Good, so a Bacardi Breezer, and the rest for beer?
Wonderful! Now, Bert! Bert, hello?
If you'd just put the shotgun down Bert... I'm not a tax collector, I swear! Remember, I'm Soda from down the road. Yes, that's right, you remember. Thank you, I'd love to order. See that party of people over there - they all want beers, but one of them would like a Bacardi Breezer to start off with - Cranberry or Melon my dear? Cranberry. I'll leave you to count them all out; oh, and can you just give me your strongest liquor if you please. Oh no, money is no object. Of course I'm underage! You know that. Now, stop with the silly questions, and start serving man!
Ack, finally. Sorry about the locals, they're all a bit edgy around here. What was that? Why do I get the strongest liquor? I would have thought that was obvious! No? Well, as your guide through all of this, I will need to remain at the front of the party, and, well, not to boast, but I can hold my drink, so I need to have some strong stuff to keep ahead of all of you.
You laugh sir? Well, humph! Oh, thank you Bert. 'Gut-blaster whisky, 1968' - mm, a good year was it? Oh...it wasn't. Oh well, here goes; come and collect your drinks everyone, and get started!
[Glug]. O.O That stuff's strong. By gum, look at that, the ceiling's moving! Am I sexy? Do you think I'm sexy? I think you're sexy. Oh yes I do sir, you're very nice. [Collapsing sound.]
[Snores]
~*~*~*~ The Next Day ~*~*~*~
Oh God...what on Earth did I drink yesterday? OH! Of course, we were trying to get into Middle Earth, weren't we? Did it work?
Hello? Oh dear goodness, where have they all gone? Hello, hello? I know we didn't manage to get in, but there's no reason to hide or run away - surely, there must be another way to get in... Anyone?
Wait a minute... What if... They got in. And I didn't?
Bugger it! That just takes the biscuit! The actual leader doesn't manage to get through, but the rest of them do! Just great that is! ARGH! Why me? How on earth can that be the least bit fair, hmm? Come on, smite me! Smite me damnit, and send me to the weird world of elves, hobbits, dwarves and...other things. Whoa, this hangover is even making me forget about Tolkein!
This isn't fair. [Cries.] I was supposed to be getting in, not them. It was my idea! This is my self-insertion, and here I am, the only one left of the whole group not in. Stupid, stupid magic stuff. I hate it! Stupid, stupid!
Eep! Oh, it's you Miss. Bacardi Breezer, right? What's that you say. You know a way to get there without getting drunk. Well...why didn't you say something earlier! You didn't want to miss out on free drinks... Oh, thanks a bunch, you greedy bi- Oh, what's that shiny thing you're holding.
Don't be absurd, there's no such thing as magic! Now, grow up, and tell me the real way to get to...
Middle Earth! So I did manage to get here after all! Thank you Miss Bacardi Breezer woman! Miss? What the hell is it with people disappearing all around me? Is this the effect that self-insertion fiction really has? How odd...oh well, I'd best take this sword which is about twice my height and far too heavy, and try to beat up Aragorn or something.
Wait a minute...
Twice my height.
Opposed to just being too heavy for me to lift. No. I have to be imagining this. I knew I wouldn't get to choose which race I would be part of, but this can't be. This wouldn't be at all fair if what I think is true. I must find myself a pool of water or a mirror or something! (Let's make that I must find something with a reflective surface, that will show me without distorting the image or using any kind of magic to trick me and so on and so-forth).
Here we are, a nice conveniently placed mirror on this here tree. Oh, there's Rivendell over there - what a waterfall! Much better in person than I thought it would be. I wonder if Frodo is already awake and talking to Bilbo about his book, or if Gandalf has even arrived yet... Hmm, anyway, back to this weirdly placed mirror.
I know it's only five foot off the ground, but I can't see in it. How odd. I was sure I'd grown a bit in the past year... Oh, a set of steps, how quaint! Let's ascend them, and see whether I really am a... Oh dear, I am.
Marvellous. Spiffing.
I'm a hobbit. A bloody hobbit! Of all the races (the pretty ones at least), I had to be a hobbit! Well, I suppose one must look on the bright side. At least I'm not a dwarf [flinches, as if expecting to be turned into a dwarf at any moment]. Curses. It looks like this completely unfeasible weapon is even more unfeasible for use by a now very short girl. I'll have to leave it behind.
Now, to get to Rivendell, and use the magical powers I'm sure I will of course discover in order to save the world. Maybe I'm actually the long- lost sister of Frodo (since I'm a hobbit and all), and together we will save the world. Or, maybe I will in fact be the real bearer of the ring, and will then discover an unheard of ring and use it's powers to beat Sauron and all his dark forces with one hand tied behind my back!
We shall see, we shall see...
~/*\~/*\~/*\~
Parodies are made for the sole use of the strange enjoyment of the author. However, if you actually found any of this funny, the author would be interested in a kindred spirit of humour to talk to. So review...or I'll...actually, just review...or not...whatever you like really...bye now.