Disclaimer: I've said it before...I do not own LOTR or any of its characters, or any giant theme parks. I do own a pencil, but the lead is broken.
Chapter 2 It's A Small World
Their guide led them to the forecourt of a four-story structure. White concrete was carved into a bricked castle, complete with miniature turrets, drawbridge, and stained glass windows. Golden spires graced the top tower. Turning toward them, the still perky guide beamed her electric smile and chirped, "This is the centerpiece of Middle Earth World - our very own Minas Tirith!" She clearly expected "ooohs" and "ahhhs," or at very least a "wow," instead of the guffaws let loose by her trainees, because her million-dollar smile slipped just a notch.
"This is Minas Tirith? You must be mistaken, milady," Aragorn laughed. "Minas Tirith is a city! A beautiful, gleaming, enormous city! This is...this is..." Overcome with laughter, he couldn't finish.
Legolas tried to be diplomatic. "This cannot be Minas Tirith, milady. It is much, much too small and delicate! Why, the Urak Kai would have only had to sneeze to blow down those walls! And there seems to be a hole right through the middle of it!"
"This IS our Minas Tirith, it is the ONLY Minas Tirith in the COUNTRY, and please refrain from laughing like hyenas." Little Miss Tour Guide was becoming slightly bitchy as she began to lose patience. "Of course there is a hole in the middle...that is how we pass into Rivendell! Please remember that you must always preserve our guests' experience. DO NOT LAUGH AT THE PROPS!" she said, rather loudly, stamping her little tour guide foot.
The Walkers tried to control their laughter, settling down into sporadic snorts.
Boromir whispered to Aragorn, "What does she mean, pass into Rivendell? Rivendell is many days journey from Minas Tirith!"
Aragorn simply shrugged. "I am more confused with each passing moment, my friend. After all we have seen, I doubt not that what she calls Rivendell may very well lie just beyond this atrocity."
"Have none of you read the material we gave you on Middle Earth Park? Even glanced at it? If you had, you would have learned that Middle Earth Park is built like a wagon wheel. Minas Tirith is the centerpiece," the guide pouted, pointedly looking the Walkers in the eye as if daring them to start laughing again. "Each other area branches off from it. Rivendell, The Shire, Fangorn Forest, Isengard, and Mordor are the spokes on the wheel and are all connected to Minas Tirith. The park was built this way to keep the tourists from getting lost!"
The not-so-perky-anymore guide closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Out came that blindingly white smile again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't lose my temper like that. I'm sure that you will all read the material tonight, right?"
"Certainly, milady, certainly," Gandalf said, elbowing Boromir, who was still chuckling, in the ribs.
"Fine. Let's continue on, shall we? We don't have much time before the park opens to the guests! Now, Lord Aragorn, this is where you, of course, will be stationed. Your job is very important, because you will be one of the first characters the guests encounter. You, and the actress playing Arwen, will stand here at the entrance to Minas Tirith, greeting guests, taking photos with them, signing autographs and acting lovey-dovey." The guide turned and began to walk through the arch that led through the heart of "Minas Tirith," beckoning for the group to follow.
"Actress playing Arwen? Methinks you are in serious trouble, Aragorn," chuckled Gimli as they followed behind the guide.
"I can hardly wait to see what they have in store for you, Master Dwarf," Aragorn replied, blushing furiously. "Perhaps being buried under a pile of wargs?"
"Now, now, Laddie, I'm sure Arwen will understand your taking up with another woman and calling her 'wife'..." Gimli shot back.
"Gimli, if you ever breathe a word of this in Arwen's presence, so help me, by Valar, I'll have you and your entire family close shaved!" Aragorn threatened, bending to stand nose to nose with Gimli.
"Are ye a wee bit jealous of me beard, Aragorn?" Gimli, stretching up to meet Aragorn's stare, "I can understand, with your own being so small and mine so long and thick!"
Gandalf pulled the two apart, whispering, "Enough! Must I knock some heads together? You will antagonize the guide. She doesn't seem to be right in the head, and I fear the consequences! Just let us humor her."
Sheepishly, Aragorn and Gimli nodded, and as they hurried to catch up with the rest of the group, Aragorn asked Gimli, "What do you suppose 'autographs' are? She said I'm supposed to sign them. And what would be a photo? Why would I wish to take it? "
"I don't know, Laddie. You'll probably know them when you see them, though."
Walking through the archway that cut through the castle, the Walkers were amazed to see that the sides of the arch were covered in intricately laid tile. The mosaic pictured what could only be themselves!
"Look Sam! Here we are crouched on the side of Mt. Doom with Golem! And this is Merry and Pippin riding on the broad branches of Treebeard! Look at Aragorn commanding the Elf archers at Helm's Deep! And Gandalf riding Shadowfax!" Frodo exclaimed, rather out of breath.
"Amazing, Mr. Frodo! Look here, it is Legolas bringing down the Oliphant at Minas Tirith! And Boromir...why are there so many arrows stuck in Boromir?" Sam asked, looking at Frodo. They both turned to look at Boromir, who had stepped up behind them.
"Must be some error...I'd be dead!" Boromir gave a halfhearted chuckle, but paled a bit.
"Come along now," sang the tour guide, "We've got a lot to see yet and not much time!"
Chapter 2 It's A Small World
Their guide led them to the forecourt of a four-story structure. White concrete was carved into a bricked castle, complete with miniature turrets, drawbridge, and stained glass windows. Golden spires graced the top tower. Turning toward them, the still perky guide beamed her electric smile and chirped, "This is the centerpiece of Middle Earth World - our very own Minas Tirith!" She clearly expected "ooohs" and "ahhhs," or at very least a "wow," instead of the guffaws let loose by her trainees, because her million-dollar smile slipped just a notch.
"This is Minas Tirith? You must be mistaken, milady," Aragorn laughed. "Minas Tirith is a city! A beautiful, gleaming, enormous city! This is...this is..." Overcome with laughter, he couldn't finish.
Legolas tried to be diplomatic. "This cannot be Minas Tirith, milady. It is much, much too small and delicate! Why, the Urak Kai would have only had to sneeze to blow down those walls! And there seems to be a hole right through the middle of it!"
"This IS our Minas Tirith, it is the ONLY Minas Tirith in the COUNTRY, and please refrain from laughing like hyenas." Little Miss Tour Guide was becoming slightly bitchy as she began to lose patience. "Of course there is a hole in the middle...that is how we pass into Rivendell! Please remember that you must always preserve our guests' experience. DO NOT LAUGH AT THE PROPS!" she said, rather loudly, stamping her little tour guide foot.
The Walkers tried to control their laughter, settling down into sporadic snorts.
Boromir whispered to Aragorn, "What does she mean, pass into Rivendell? Rivendell is many days journey from Minas Tirith!"
Aragorn simply shrugged. "I am more confused with each passing moment, my friend. After all we have seen, I doubt not that what she calls Rivendell may very well lie just beyond this atrocity."
"Have none of you read the material we gave you on Middle Earth Park? Even glanced at it? If you had, you would have learned that Middle Earth Park is built like a wagon wheel. Minas Tirith is the centerpiece," the guide pouted, pointedly looking the Walkers in the eye as if daring them to start laughing again. "Each other area branches off from it. Rivendell, The Shire, Fangorn Forest, Isengard, and Mordor are the spokes on the wheel and are all connected to Minas Tirith. The park was built this way to keep the tourists from getting lost!"
The not-so-perky-anymore guide closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Out came that blindingly white smile again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't lose my temper like that. I'm sure that you will all read the material tonight, right?"
"Certainly, milady, certainly," Gandalf said, elbowing Boromir, who was still chuckling, in the ribs.
"Fine. Let's continue on, shall we? We don't have much time before the park opens to the guests! Now, Lord Aragorn, this is where you, of course, will be stationed. Your job is very important, because you will be one of the first characters the guests encounter. You, and the actress playing Arwen, will stand here at the entrance to Minas Tirith, greeting guests, taking photos with them, signing autographs and acting lovey-dovey." The guide turned and began to walk through the arch that led through the heart of "Minas Tirith," beckoning for the group to follow.
"Actress playing Arwen? Methinks you are in serious trouble, Aragorn," chuckled Gimli as they followed behind the guide.
"I can hardly wait to see what they have in store for you, Master Dwarf," Aragorn replied, blushing furiously. "Perhaps being buried under a pile of wargs?"
"Now, now, Laddie, I'm sure Arwen will understand your taking up with another woman and calling her 'wife'..." Gimli shot back.
"Gimli, if you ever breathe a word of this in Arwen's presence, so help me, by Valar, I'll have you and your entire family close shaved!" Aragorn threatened, bending to stand nose to nose with Gimli.
"Are ye a wee bit jealous of me beard, Aragorn?" Gimli, stretching up to meet Aragorn's stare, "I can understand, with your own being so small and mine so long and thick!"
Gandalf pulled the two apart, whispering, "Enough! Must I knock some heads together? You will antagonize the guide. She doesn't seem to be right in the head, and I fear the consequences! Just let us humor her."
Sheepishly, Aragorn and Gimli nodded, and as they hurried to catch up with the rest of the group, Aragorn asked Gimli, "What do you suppose 'autographs' are? She said I'm supposed to sign them. And what would be a photo? Why would I wish to take it? "
"I don't know, Laddie. You'll probably know them when you see them, though."
Walking through the archway that cut through the castle, the Walkers were amazed to see that the sides of the arch were covered in intricately laid tile. The mosaic pictured what could only be themselves!
"Look Sam! Here we are crouched on the side of Mt. Doom with Golem! And this is Merry and Pippin riding on the broad branches of Treebeard! Look at Aragorn commanding the Elf archers at Helm's Deep! And Gandalf riding Shadowfax!" Frodo exclaimed, rather out of breath.
"Amazing, Mr. Frodo! Look here, it is Legolas bringing down the Oliphant at Minas Tirith! And Boromir...why are there so many arrows stuck in Boromir?" Sam asked, looking at Frodo. They both turned to look at Boromir, who had stepped up behind them.
"Must be some error...I'd be dead!" Boromir gave a halfhearted chuckle, but paled a bit.
"Come along now," sang the tour guide, "We've got a lot to see yet and not much time!"