Narrator: There was Eru, The One, who in Arda is called Iluvatar…and he made the Ainur, and he propounded unto them themes of music… and there was shown unto them a vision of Ea, the World that Is. And many of them left…um…this watchama call it…cool floaty place, and went to Ea. Now the Ainur took unto them physical form. There were two really, really, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY important Ainur called Manwe and Ulmo. No, not Elmo. Ulmo.
Manwe: What a ripoff!
Ulmo: What is?
Manwe: THERE'S NOTHING HERE! Eru's tricked us! We came to this vision, and there isn't anything here!
Ulmo: Not so hasty, Manwe. I've been reading the script and it says right here that if we want anything, we've gotta come and claim it…oops, wrong script shuffles papers ah, here we are, it says that if we want anything here in Arda we must make it ourselves. So what are we waiting for, let's get busy!
Manwe: Whatever.
Narrator: So the Ainur recruited some friends, called themselves the Valar, which is High-elven for "floaty angel people," and made a bunch of cool stuff, like the word. Anyway, one of the Valar named Melkor turned nasty...
Melkor: Hey! I don't wanna be nasty!
Narrator: …quiet up Melkor! It's a vital plot device!
Melkor: Why do I have to be a plot device? It's not fair.
Narrator: Quit whining, Melkor! As I was saying, everything was quite alright, or would have been if it weren't for Melkor going around tearing down everything the Valar made. Eventually, the Valar finished making the world in spite of Melkor. Time went on, and since Melkor had messed up the world, which at that time was called Middle-earth, the Valar made a nice pretty beautiful place to live called Valinor on a different continent. More time went on, and Eru made some people called Elves that showed up all of a sudden in Middle-earth. The Valar brought the Elves to Valinor, and everything was perfect. An Elf called Feanor made three glittery sparkly jewels called Silmarils, and, since we all know what happens when Melkor sees glittery sparkly jewels, trouble began.
Melkor: Thinking to self I sure wish I had some glittery sparkly jewels like what Feanor made. Then I could become an evil Dark Lord with a subterranean throne, gazillions of orcs and wolves and balrogs in my service, and everyone would hate me and fight against me. Heeeey, not a bad plan!
Ungoliant: Hey, what's up, Melkor buddy?
Melkor: Startled Oh, heh heh, nothing, I was just thinking how cool it would be if I were the Dark Lord. And hey, you just gave me an idea Ungoliant; I could use a super huge evil spider thingy like you in my intimidation program.
Ungoliant: Sure boss, I'll do anything you want. Just you be sure and pay me well!
Narrator: So Melkor the nasty Ainur and Ungoliant the super big evil spider thingy did something really nasty. They snuck up on the Elves and the Valar in Valinor while they were having a big party, and Ungoliant killed the Two Trees that gave light to Valinor.
Partying Elf #1: Whoa! There go the lights.
Partying Elf #2: Hey Manwe, did you forget to pay the electric bill?
Manwe: AAAAAACCCCCKKKKK! Ungoliant killed the Two Trees! Call the National Guard!
Enjolras: Oh it's easy to sit here and swat 'em likeflies, but the National Guard will be harder to catch. We need a sign to rally the people to call them to arms to bring them in line. Marius you're late.
Narrator: Hey! Enjy, what are you doing here? Grantaire, what are you doing here? Joly leave that mirror alone! Clear out, move on! Go back to Paris!
Ulmo (talking into loudspeaker): EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! URGENT! ALL ELVES MUST EVACUATE THE SCENE OF THE DISASTER. REPEAT, EMERGENCY, CODE RED, CLEAR THE SCENE.
Narrator: The partying Elves and the Valar were in a state of panic. The only one to keep a clear head was Tulkas, one of the Valar.
Tulkas: I'll bet Melkor's at the bottom of this. He always was a nasty one.
Narrator: But he couldn't find Melkor, he was long gone. Coward. Anyway, messages came that Melkor had killed Feanor's father Finwe and stolen the Silmarils. This news didn't sit too well with Feanor, who was really possessive of his glittery, sparkly jewels. Meanwhile, Melkor (who was now called Morgoth because of his not-niceness) and Ungoliant were high-tailing it away.
Morgoth: Tee hee, those elves don't even know what hit them.
Ungoliant: Mm hm, but what about my pay, Boss?
Morgoth: Erm, I'd rather not talk about that right now…
Ungoliant: YOU LIAR! I'LL SETTLE WITH YOU! YOU SAID YOU'D PAY ME WELL! GIMME THOSE SHINY, SPARKLY JEWELS, OR ELSE!
Morgoth: T-t-take it easy, n-n-nice l-l-l-little s-s-s-spider, c-c-c-calm d-d-d-down, here, you can have this, and this, and these, and maybe you'd like these…
Ungoliant: HAND OVER THE SILMARILS!
Morgoth: NO! They're mine, they came to me, my own, my birthday present, my preciousssssssssssss….
Narrator: Ungoliant got fed up with Morgoth, so she started wrapping him up in spider silk…
Morgoth: HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPPP! I'M DYING! THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! HELP, WOLVES, BALROGS, ORCS, BATS, DRAGONS, SOMEONE HELP!
Narrator: Fortunately for Morgoth, a band of Balrogs came to his rescue.
Balrog: Begone, spider!
Narrator: So Morgoth escaped to Middle-earth, and became the Dark Enemy of the World. Let's return to the scene of the crime, back in Valinor, and hear an interview with a very upset Feanor.
Interviewer: So Feanor, I understand your dad's been murdered, your shiny, bright, sparkly jewels have been stolen, the electricity is out, and the future doesn't look good. What are you going to do about it?
Feanor: ….
Interviewer: Well, I say don't be too hasty. Don't make any major decisions now while you're all worked up. Wait. Sleep on it. Give it time. I'm sure everything will be cleared up in the morning. What do you think?
Feanor: ….
Interviewer: Yeah, definitely don't worry yourself about it. Don't do anything you'll regret. Don't think you can trust your judgement now when--
Feanor: COME AWAY! LET THE COWARDS KEEP THIS CITY!
Narrator: With those words, Feanor started a great rebellion of elves that, against the will of the Valar (and the interviewer), returned in exile to Middle-earth to make war on Morgoth and recover their stolen Silmarils. Manwe was not at all happy about this…
Manwe: Don't go, guys, you'll never win. Morgoth is too strong for you. Hey! Wait! Come back! They never learn….
Narrator: When the troops of elves led by Feanor made it to the shore of Valinor, it suddenly occurred to them that they would need boats to sail back to Middle-earth. When the Telerin elves that lived by the seashore refused to give them ships, Feanor's elves started killing the Teleri and manning the ships.
Feanor: With blood from the Elves he's killed dripping off him When people don't give you what you want, sometimes you have to take drastic measures.
Narrator: The elves finally made it to Middle-earth. But their trouble was not over yet. There were a bunch of elves already in Middle-earth who had never made it to Valinor, either because they didn't want to go or because they had gotten lost on the way. Feanor's followers were called the Noldor, which means "mad at Morgoth" and the elves that were already in Middle-earth were called the Sindar, which means "lazy". The Sindar were not altogether happy about the prospect of sharing all their goodies with these Noldor, especially when they found out about the theft of the ships. The Sindarin leader was an Elf-king named Thingol.
Messenger: Tidings are come, oh king, that certain rascally roguish elves hath dared to invade thy great kingdom. What is to be done, oh king most royal?
Thingol: Slash them! Beat them! Bite them! Gnash them! Take them away to dark holes filled with snakes, and never let them see the light again!
Messenger: Erm, your highness, I believe that's from The Hobbit, a book that hasn't even been written yet.
Thingol: So what? I'm the king around here, ain't I?
Narrator: So the Noldor got in trouble with the Sindar, and a great battle was fought. But the Noldor were already forgetting why they had come to Middle-earth in the first place. Other things got in the way of their oath to get back the Silmarils. After the great battle was fought, Feanor's oldest son Maedhros got taken as a prisoner of war and hung up on a mountain-side by his wrist. Ouch is right. No one was brave enough to rescue him except his cousin Fingon.
Maedhros: Ok, this is a pickle and no mistake. Odds are I'll be hanging here till doomsday – or at least until my little brother finds out I stole his videogame and hunts me down to retrieve it. So, let's sing a little song to pass the time…
Fingon: Ah, -there- you are!
Maedhros: Fingon! How in Middle-earth did you find me?
Fingon: Easy. No one east of Tol Eressea is a worse singer.
Maedhros: Hey.
Fingon: That's rather beside the point. At the moment you appear to be in rather urgent need of a good rescuing. How I'm supposed to go about doing that is not yet clear to me.
Maedhros: Well, I suppose you could air lift me to the local hospital…
Fingon: Not a chance. Helicopters haven't been invented yet. Maedhros: Yeah, you have a point there. So, what are you gonna do? Fingon: Me? Oh, nothing. Actually, I was thinking of heading home about now. See ya. Maedhros: B-b-b-but, what about me?Fingon: Well, I can't exactly get you off this cliff too easily.
Maedhros: But you wouldn't leave me here to die would you?
Fingon: Wanna bet?
Maedhros: …erm, I don't think so…
Fingon: Well, there is one other option. Mind if I cut off your hand?
Maedhros: WHAT?
Fingon: I'm afraid it's the only way. Here goes…
Narrator: Anyways, time went on, and eventually Maedhros learned to make his left hand just as useful as his right hand had been.The Noldor kinda forgot that they were trying to get their Silmarils back, so the said Silmarils remained in the greedy grasp of Morgoth for quite some time.
Morgoth: My precioussssssssssssss…
Narrator: But in time the Silmarils came back to mind. Beren, a mortal man, loved Luthien, King Thingol's daughter, and, incidentally, the most beautiful Elf in Middle-earth.
Thingol: Who wished to gain admittance to my majesty?
Beren: 'Twas me, oh king.
Thingol: What do you want, and make it quick!
Beren: Can I marry your daughter?
Thingol: Oh sure, and you can go to Saturn and eat an iron gate and swim the Atlantic and read War and Peace and elect an honest President and stretch a rubber band around Planet Earth. NEXT!
Beren: But king…
Thingol: Out of my sight you dastardly rogue.
Beren: Come on…
Thingol: No way.
Beren: Give me a chance…
Thingol: Look here: you bring me a Silmaril from Morgoth's iron crown and then you can marry my daughter.
Beren: Sure thing.
Narrator: Beren had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Whether or not it was worth it remains to be seen.
Luthien: Father, what have you done to my boyfriend? Please don't say you fed him to Ungoliant like you did to the last one.
Thingol: Oh, nothing like that, dear. I've only sent him on a hopeless mission that because of his dogged determination will end in his certain death...hey, where are you going? Come back here!
Narrator: Luthien was out the door like a shot, but at King Thingol's orders the guards brought her back. To prevent further attempts at escaping to rescue Beren she was locked up in a… tree house. Well hey, I don't write these stories, do I?
Luthien: Daddy's so naïve. Heh heh. What does he think I am, a human? Lets see…what was that spell for growing hair long…
Narrator: So Rapunzel…I mean Luthien…grew her hair out really long and added to it a spell of sleepiness… She made a rope ladder out of her long hair and lowered herself to the ground. The spell of sleepiness caused the guards at the foot of the tree to fall asleep. She skedaddled outta there and rode on a talking dog named Huan's back into the night…
Beren: So Finrod, what do you say to leaving your nice cushy underground kingdom and coming with me on my impossible, doomed quest, walking into the arms of certain death? You gave my dad that ring when he saved your skin that time remember?
Finrod: Hmmm…
Beren: You really must…
Finrod: It's a deal.
Beren: You'll help me find Feanor's cursed sparklies that at this moment reside in Morgoth's Iron Crown?
Whee!
Narrator: Beren, Finrod and a few other Elves started off on their perilous journey. Unfortunately, not long into it
Morgoth's agent Sauron caught them and cast them into a dungeon. Werewolves were sent in to eat them up, one by one. Sauron saved Finrod and Beren for last. When the wolf came for Beren, Finrod broke his chains and launched into a dogfight with the werewolf. They both died. Things seemed pretty hopeless for Beren: he hadn't even gotten to Morgoth's fortress yet and he was already in over his head. That's when Luthien arrived on Huan. . .
Luthien: Lalalalalalalalalalalalaaalalallalllalalallalaaalllaaaaaaa…
Beren: Honey is that you?
Luthien: How did you know?
Beren: Easy. No one west of Ered Luin is a better singer.
Narrator: Luthien kicked Sauron's butt and took command of the island in which was the dungeon in which Beren was lying. She rescued him and together they set out to retrieve the sparklies. When they got there they had a little trouble with the doorwarden. He was a huge nasty werewolf with slobber dripping off his long yellow fangs and a thick shaggy gray coat. His name was Carcharoth.
Luthien: Excuse me sir, is this the way to Morgoth's throne?
Carcharoth: Grrrrr-rrrrrrowwll-grrrrowrrrowrrrow!
Luthien: Sir?
Carcharoth: Grrrr-rrwhat's a rrlady rrr doin' grrr rrr in dese parts?
Luthien: Don't get smart with me.
Carcharoth: Grr-I-don't grrr like rrowllrr the-looks-grrr-o' ya-grrrowlll-woof-grrr!
Luthien: BEGONE O WOE-BEGOTTEN SPIRIT! FALL NOW INTO DARK OBLIVION AND FORGET FOR A WHILE THE DREADFUL DOOM OF LIFE!
Narrator: Luthien and Beren tiptoed inside Morgoth's fortress until they found his throne room. Beren, disguised as a wolf, slunk beneath Morgoth's throne. He left Luthien to handle the tough stuff. She artfully sang Morgoth to sleep, and woke up Beren, who had also fallen asleep, and had now assumed man-form again. He pulled out his knife and picked up the crown.
Beren: You'd better do it, honey: I never was good at carving turkey.
Luthien: No. This was your idea. Hurry. Morgoth won't sleep all day.
Beren: Alright, here we go. . .
Luthien: Careful, Beren.
Beren: Easy, easy, aaww, DAMNIT! Luthien, the knife splintered…and hit Morgoth in the face!
Luthien: This is serious. Beren, you grab that Silmaril and run towards the door.
Beren: But what about the two other Silmar—
Luthien: Never mind about those. You run right now! Morgoth's waking up!
Beren and Luthien: Eeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaah! (puffpuffpantpantblowblowwheezecoughhurryrunrunrunfaster)
Narrator: When they got to the door Carcharoth was still guarding it.
Beren: Um, Lúthien, would you help me take care of this…wolf?
Lúthien: puffpantblowwheezegaspbreathepantpantgaspBeren: …so…ri-i-i-ght...
Narrator: Beren had to think fast. He came up with the brilliant idea of holding the Silmaril up to Carcharoth's face, while ranting on about how this light will devour you and all other evil things. Carcharoth promptly chomped his jaws down on Beren's hand, severing it and swallowing it, Silmaril and all.
Carcharoth: Mmmm..tasty.
Lúthien: Oh, Beren! You're hand! Your poor hand...does it hurt? Is there anything I can do to help? Great Eru, but that's one nasty wound!Beren: Well... it sure doesn't tickle.
Narrator: Ahem. It is time to introduce Tolkien's infamous plot device, the high-and-mighty feathered Deus ex Machina. Eagles to the rescue! Eagles! Eagles! EAGLES! Why must it be eagles? Beren, delirious, sings an absurd song in between lapses of consciousness.
Beren: There was a time when life was tough
And we outlaws had it rough and we sat around campfires and ate bits of badly cooked rabbit
When Gorlim prowled around his house and got tricked by Sauron and the world was a manhunt and the manhunt was exciting
There was a time when it all went wrong
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was low and life worth living
I dreamed that dad would never die
I dreamed that Thingol would be forgiving
Then I was young (believe it or not)
And bonfires were made and used and wasted
Then winters were cold and summers hot
No song unruined, no food untasted
But the lovely Elf-girls come at night
With their voices like nightingales
As they dance under the stars
In the woods of Doria-a-a-th
She danced a winter in my sight
She made my life an endless blunder
I followed her through the night
But she was gone when spring came
And still I dream she'll marry me
That we will live the years together
But Thingol won't let it be
I must find him Silmarils in the cold weather
I had a dream my life would be
So similar to now it's funny
That I'd go on eating roast bunny
Now Thingol's stupid impossible Silmaril quest has killed the dream I dreamed
Narrator: The eagles dropped Beren and Lúthien off in Doriath.
Lúthien: Oh, Beren! Don't you remember, this is where we first met.
Narrator: When Beren had recovered enough, they went to Thingol's halls in Menegroth, the Thousand Caves. Beren triumphantly walked straight up to Thingol and told him that he had taken a Silmaril and according to their bargain now he was free to marry Lúthien.
Beren: Keeping his missing hand out of sight So now the Quest is achieved and my doom full wrought. Oh wait, don't I say that later?
Thingol: Alright wise guy, I've heard you. You say you have a Silmaril in your hand. That's very nice. Now show it to me.
Beren: Looking uncomfortable Well now...
Thingol: Yes?
Beren: Shows his arm sans hand Look, I have it in my hand. Only, my hand happens to be inside Carcharoth's belly. But I assure you it is there, right in my hand.
Enter messenger
Messenger: Tidings are come, O king, that Carcharoth is wrecking havoc on the whole district. Many villages have already been destroyed. The wolf seems very thirsty and is drinking whole rivers dry. Something must be done at once!
Thingol: I see. It's the Silmaril inside this wolf of Angband that is making him so destructive. Messenger, get my best warriors ready for the wolf hunt. Get Huan the hound, too. Don't just stand there Beren, get your sword, or bow, or whatever you outlaws use. Let's hunt some wolf.
Luthien: Yeeesss!
Thingol: No, Tinúviel, you can't come on this one.
Luthien: But—
Thingol: OBEY YOUR FATHER!
The Wolf-hunters: Here we come with roll of drum with doom we come with doom we come with doom we come with doom we come with doom we come with doom...yawn
Thingol: So has everyone got their battle cry memorized?
Wolf-hunters: Yes sir! In unison GURTH AN GAURHOTH!
Sindarin, Death to the werewolves
Narrator: They sought for the wolf, and before long they found him. He was drinking furiously from the river, and when he saw the hunters he roared so loud the stones avalanched down the waterfall. The wolf leaped on Thingol but Beren stuck his spear in it, but then the wolf took a bite out of Beren, and would have killed him if Huan hadn't jumped on him. Then followed the fiercest dogfight in history. Finally both Huan and Carcharoth were mortally wounded. The hunters cut open Carcharoth with a knife, took out the Silmaril, and gave it to Beren, who gave it to Thingol. Now everything was settled, Beren and Lúthien could get married and be happy for the rest of their lives. Except for one small difficulty. Beren was killed in the fight with Carcharoth. The hunters led by Thingol brought Beren back to Menegroth. Lúthien came rushing out to meet them.
Lúthien: Breathless Ohdaddyyou'rebackdidyoukillthewolfwhere'sHuanwhydidn'tyouletmegowithyouIcouldhavehelpedyourememberjustwhoitwaswhogotthesilmarilinthefirstplaceitwasmeremember?trustmeIknowwhatI'mdoingwhywon'tyoutellmewhathappenedohyou'rewoundedisitserioushereI'llgetsomeofMelian'shealingplantstheredoesthatfeelbetterohhelloBelegandMablungwhywontanyonetellmewhathappenedcanIseethedeadwolftellmeabout—
sees Beren lying dead on the bier
Sinks to her knees by his body ...oh...no...
Father! This is all your fault! It's you who sent him on the hunt when you knew he didn't have to...well don't just stand there I've got to get him back!
Narrator: Lúthien went to the Halls of Mandos to have a word with Mandos, the firmest and strictest of all the Valar. Sometimes even Manwe would change his mind, but Mandos never did.