Boromir of the Halitosis
Froggy; 2004
Disclaimer: Boromir is not mine. In fact, none of the characters are mine. What a shame! Oh, well. It seems that Boromir had his own reasons for wanting the Ring.
Once upon a time, there lived in Gondor, a man named Boromir. Boromir lived a good life and was fairly happy, but he had a small problem. You see, he had a tremendously serious case of halitosis. His breath was so putrid, if he came within miles of a town, people would slam their doors and shut their windows to keep out the smell. This offended our hero greatly, and so, he decided to try to correct his one horrendous flaw. He went to see a doctor. After the doctor clamped a clothespin on his own nose, he gave Boromir some medicine and told him to pour three tablespoons down his throat every five minutes. After this, he handed him a great big, jumbo-sized container of Altoids.
Boromir did what the doctor ordered. It didn't help. Neither did the Altoids. Also, Boromir ran out of medicine after two doses. He was going to get some more, and he was almost in the door when he noticed the sign in the window. In print so small Boromir had to fish around to find a magnifying glass, it read, "Within these walls practices a quack physician."
Boromir never went back again. In fact, he was so disgusted by the physician's display, he left Gondor and traveled far and wide to see famous doctors that might be able to cure him. However, each time he was disappointed. One day, he heard about an amazing doctor who lived in a place called Rivendell.
"Rivendell?" Boromir wondered aloud. "I've never been there. Might make a lovely vacation."
Therefore, he went. At least it was worth a try.
When he arrived, he was just in time for a meeting of some type. He sat listening in for a while. Then, he grew bored and decided he would argue. Maybe then, the meeting would adjourn sooner. He argued long, saying things that were not relevant because he did not know about what they were talking. During this meeting, everyone wore extremely plastic smiles. What they all were thinking was, "Whoa! This guy stinks! I have to get out of here! I'm gonna hurl!"
However, before everyone made a run for it, this little short dude stood up and said something about a ring. Boromir was surprised. Then he noticed that there was a ring sitting on a little pedestal and he was even more surprised. He thought it was the Magic Wishing Ring that was in the bedtime story that Lord Denethor used to read to him when he was young. That ring would give the wearer one wish, but after each wish, something was taken from the wisher. Boromir had to have it. His mind was formulating a plan. He couldn't just go up and grab it. The Elves would have him stuck so full of arrows, he'd make a pincushion look bad. So after people started volunteering to go with said little short dude, he decided to sign up too, much to the others' chagrin.
"Ya better stock up on clothespins," advised a hairy little dude with an axe (discreetly) to a tall elf dude.
To make a long story short, he joined up, traveled through untold danger and hardship over Caradhras, the Mines of Moria, Lothlórien, and down the Anduin. He was going insane with madness to get the Magic Wishing Ring, but the tall elf dude with a longbow had an eye on him and that would be bad. He had to get the little short dude alone somewhere and get it then. Finally, they got to shore and set up a camp.
"Hey, little short dude," called our hero, "what say you and me go for a walk in the woods?"
"The name's Frodo," said the little short dude, "and for what purpose should we go for a walk in the orc-infested woods?"
"I smell adventure just waiting in the woods!" replied Boromir.
At once, everyone and their dog dashed into the woods.
"Okay," said Boromir. "Not exactly the response I expected, but we can work it that way too." Boromir grabbed the Magic Wishing Ring from the little short dude and put it on. Before he could make a wish, he disappeared. However, he wished anyway. "I wish that my halitosis breath was gone forever!" His wish came true! He whooped and hollered for joy. His breath was as fresh as the winter breeze. He whooped and hollered some more. Unfortunately, he whooped and hollered a little too loudly.
Suddenly, a bunch of Uruk-hai charged out of the trees and went berserk. They fired off millions of arrows randomly at the little short dude. However, since Boromir was standing in front of said little short dude, he was skewered a thousand times and fell over dead.
And that, my friend, concludes our story. At least he died happy.
Finis