This is in no way meant to offend any characters, OTPS, ships, fanons, fandoms, original characters, etc. I hold my readers' mental state above anything else- except cookies. This fiction is meant strictly for your entertainment and thou are not allowed to brood whilst gazing upon it with thine vision spheres, dude.
Haha, but seriously man, don't go being sad while reading this. Be happy. Listen to Three Little Birds or something, I dunno.
Thranduil: "Hello, viewers. I am back to give you the information you need to be as fabulous as I."
Audience: *applause*
Thranduil: "Our subject today is-"
SloTurtle: *drops from ceiling* "JOHN CENA!"
*trumpet SFX*
JOHN CENA: *rips shirt off and flexes*
Thranduil: "You didn't."
SloTurtle: "I did. I got help choosing this one as well."
Thranduil: "Ugh, do I have to?"
SloTurtle: "You signed a contract~!"
Thranduil: *sighs* "Fine."
SloTurtle: "Squeee!"
Thranduil: "Let's just get this over with."
Thranduil: "NO, JOHN! STAY!"
*Thranduil is fumbling around, trying to get John to stay still*
JOHN CENA: "I don't want a shiiiiiiirt."
Thranduil: "Just hold still and stop complaining!"
Thorin: *throws foldup chair onto stage* "Hit him with the chair!"
Thranduil: "Nonono, don't you da-"
*CLANG!
Audience: "Ooo." *winces*
Announcer: "That's gonna leave a mark. Let's see if he recovers, next time on Thranduil's Extreme Fashion Makeovers!"
A/n
Don't ask just- seriously don't. I have no idea what this is.
Sincerely,
~SloTurtle
