Lord of the Swings

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

The following tale is loosely (very loosley) based upon the Lord of the Rings. I will post more chapters when I have them (or if I get too much abuse for my blatant taking of the proverbial, I shall crawl into a corner and cry).

WARNING!
If you are likely to take this too seriously, please be assured that I am a huge fan of the book and my mockery is not of Tolkien or his enormous talent but is purely meant in fun and should be taken as such. Also I make no claim of ownership of the characters (except the ones I make up myself) and the whole of this little offering is not meant to offend (although it probably will sometimes...) Enough rambling, down to business.


"The Lord of the Swings"

“Book One – Fellowship of the Swings”


The Prologue

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... a hobbit, of no great stature or wit, crawled out of its burrow and ambled slowly down to the road which runs through Hobbiton. A tree whistled in the breeze and then burst into a rendition of "It's raining men". There was a faint fumbling in the valley which was immediately extinguished and replaced by the faint rumbling which had been promised the part in the first place.

"Stuff this for a game of soldiers!" said the hobbit and threw himself under a bus. He lay there for a short while and realised that the bus was not there yet. In fact in this third age of Middle-Earth buses had not yet been invented. If he was to do away with himself he would have to wait a hell of a long time.

The rumbling in the valley had changed places with the rumbling down the road and within a matter of moments that rumbling had been sacked for wasting everybody's time and had been replaced by a loud snap and a muffled sound of a hobbit unable to breathe. The last thing to go through Bilbo Baggins's mind was the steel rim of Gandalf the Downright Incompetent's cart (the first thing having been the horse's hoof).

"You're late!" A rather small and annoying voice leapt out from the undergrowth and onto the cart. It was closely followed by an even smaller and marginally more annoying hobbit.

"A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"But Bilbo's party was yesterday."

"I'm not here for the party. I'm here for the funeral."

"What funeral?"

"Never mind, " said Gandalf, quickly trying to cover the mutilated body of Bilbo with his cloak.

"Bilbo's dead?"

"No he isn't."

"Yes he is. He's under the wheel of your cart." Frodo pointed to the sorry remains which were at that moment leaking a little and seeping into the hem of Gandalf's robes.

"Oh, you noticed that did you? Of course you did. You're a Baggins. Nosy little buggers Bagginses you know. You can learn all there is to know about their ways in a week but after 100 years they still annoy the hell out of you. But never mind that now, we had better go inside. There have been strange folk abroad this last hour."

"Oy, mutton head. That's my line".

"Good gracious me."

"You're a line pilferer Gandalf the Grey!"

"I am no longer Gandalf the Grey. I am Gandalf the Blue (Gandalf the White was asked to participate in the making of this tale but declined in order to avoid certain major copyright infringements). I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

"You can return when ever you like just don't pinch my bloody lines is all." The voice had still not presented any evidence that it owned a body. Just then a telegram arrived from Personnel which informed the assembled cast that the budget of this production did not, in fact, stretch to the hiring of bodies to accompany the voices of those who did not prove useful to the story. Hence all comedy characters and interesting but ultimately useless characters would have to be voiced by the technical staff or not appear at all. Frodo felt like pointing out that this would reduce the whole cast to a series of disembodied asides but a shake of Gandalf's rather prune-like face told him that his genitalia would be removed slowly with a blunt instrument if he were to even consider saying such a thing again.

"My sincerest apologies, Master Took for stealing your line. No one told me you were going to be here. Enough gabbling however, we really must get off the road."

"Why Gandalf?"

The answer to his question rode through the village in a blinding flash removing Master Took's head with a particularly sharp baby's rattle as it went. Master Took was not too badly hurt as he had not, you will recall, been given a body and so his head, which was not strictly there to begin with, was not sorely missed.

"The head of my order, Saruman, had informed me that the Nine had left Minas Morgul and were tramping the countryside disguised as Riders in Nappies. Master Took has been touched by a Mordor Rattle and will not recover."

The urge from the rest of those present to say "No s**t!" was almost overwhelming. "I fear even Elvish magic would not be sufficient."

"Would Saruman know what to do next?"

"I think there may be a gap in this script. Saruman appears to have betrayed us already. I was sure that wasn't supposed to happen until page 110 at the earliest. Oh well. We shall just have to play it by ear. The answer is 'no'. "

The be-nappied baby rider had stopped and was no longer riding. I suppose technically he was no longer a rider therefore and had become a sitter but the presence of a babysitter would ruin the already rather flimsy atmosphere. It opened its mouth as if to speak and said "Goo goo, gurgle goo?"

"What language is that? I think it's elvish but I can't understand it."

"There are few who can," murmured Gandalf. "The language is that of Mordor which I will not utter here. I am not entirely sure but I think he asked which one of us was called Baggins." At this point, Frodo immediately pointed to Gandalf, cried "That one there", then ran into Bilbo's burrow and bolted the door.

Frodo waited a while but heard no sounds of death and destruction and slowly opened the door. Gandalf was standing right outside looking exceedingly ****ed off.

"Did you make it disappear?"

"FRODO BAGGINS! DO NOT TAKE ME FOR SOME CONJUROR OF CHEAP TRICKS!"

And with that Gandalf raised his wizened hand to the sky and drew from the air some mysterious slabs with mystic runes of all varieties on them in colours of black and exotic red. He held them to Frodo's nose.

"Pick a card, any card!"








The Prologue

[Elven Daughter]

that's so funny! I luv it! I was laughing the whole time.

[Gatsby]

oh m'dear... wicked funny... loved the bilbo under the cart wheel thing (he's dead! no he's not)
out
gatsby
p.s i LOVE your name... i think i might die of laughter

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks for that. I love friendly feedback.

Chapters 1 and 2 will hopefully be online today (Friday) if you're interested. I'll have to sit and change them slightly to remove all the expletives (otherwise it would probably just be a page covered in stars). I actually started writing this for a friend of mine but I can just tell her to look here if she wants to read it.

Thanks again.

A.L.L.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Same warnings as for the prologue-type bit (see previous message) and I still don't own the characters (however I have first dibs on Legolas)


Chapter 1 – “A Long-Expected Funeral”


“3 of Spades!” said Frodo, who obviously hadn’t realised that the rest of us had moved on to chapter 1.

“Riddles in the dark and Frodo is having memory lapses.” Gandalf was talking to himself in a corner when Frodo had spoken up about the card trick from the day before. He did not like the omens of late. Frodo’s inability to keep track of time between chapters and the fact that a member of the cast had been deprived of his already missing cranium were both things which concerned him greatly.

“What about Bilbo’s death?” Sam had joined the conversation from outside the window. At the sound of his voice Gandalf reached out of the window, grabbed the diminutive figure of Sam and dragged him through the window and onto the kitchen table. “Blast your eyes Sam Gamgee, have you been eve’s dropping on my descriptive bits?!?!?”

“Honest sir, I ain’t been droppin’ no eves. I just read the script a bit an’….Please sir, don’t turn me into anythin’ … unnatural…”

“Noooooo? Perhaps not. But such naughtiness should not go unpunished!” And with that Gandalf pulled a bunch of flowers from his sleeve and stuffed them down Sam’s throat.

“He’s right though isn’t he?” Frodo piped up. “What about Bilbo’s death?”

“Well, it was about time really. I mean he was eleventy one years old.”

“Eleventy one?”

“Sorry. One hundred and eleven. I didn’t write the script you know. As I was saying, Bilbo should not have lived that long. Hobbits are only supposed to last about 90 years at the very most. Twas most unnatural. That’s why Bilbo arranged to have me… Oh but I’ve said too much already. Suffice it to say that a wizard is never late, nor is he early and I arrived exactly when Bilbo meant me to and that was the end of that.”

Frodo glanced over at the open coffin which was sitting by the door waiting to be taken out and chucked over a waterfall as is customary in tales of this nature. It would take a while to get rid of this one as the waterfall in Hobbiton had been blocked due to over-usage and the last coffin to be chucked down there had bounced off the already unstable pile and through the roof of Master Took’s burrow, narrowly missing his head. Ironic that his head was now missing altogether but I digress.

“You had better take him with you until you find a suitable waterfall then.”

“Am I going somewhere?”

“The ring cannot stay here. The Riders in Nappies are after it.”

“What ring?”

“………...” Frodo gave Gandalf a look that indicated that Gandalf had been at the hobbit-weed again.

“When Bilbo went off on his adventure the last time he found a ring and brought it back. I have been to some big city somewhere whose name I have forgotten for the moment and read up a little about the great Swings of Power. They were forged at the beginning of the world for the Ainur, the holy ones, to play on but the first Dark Lord, Melkor, pinched them for his best mate Sauron who, when Melkor was defeated, poured into them his malice, his hate and his will to dominate all races of the world. With each swing Sauron kicked further out into Middle-Earth and many races fell. At last, an alliance of men and elves kicked the s**t out of Sauron and nicked the swings back. Evil could have been extinguished on that day. But the spirit of men was weak and their newly crowned king, Isildur took a set of rings from the chains upon which the swings hung and wore them upon his fingers. He realised that when he wore one of the rings he became invisible to the outside world and decided to keep it as it would come in useful as a good party trick and to allow him to sneak into the ladies locker rooms at the swimming pool. But the ring betrayed Isildur by falling off his finger in the shower. He was accosted by the scantily clad women and brutally stripped of his clothing at which point he died of embarrassment due to his particularly small appendage. His heirs have since wandered the mountainous regions of New Zealand hoping for a part in a major movie production. WAKE UP FRODO! THIS IS THE IMPORTANT HISTORICAL BIT!!!!!”

“Sorry Gandalf. So you were saying that Bilbo went off on his first adventure…” Gandalf gave him a look that would kill if it had been given a particularly sharp set of eyelashes at birth. “As I was saying, all but one of the rings of the swings were then given to the various races of middle earth to guard. Three were given to the elves, wisest and fairest of all the creatures of middle earth. Seven went to the Dwarf-Lords who were neither the wisest nor the fairest of all the creatures of Middle-Earth. And nine, nine rings went to Isildur’s baby son who gave them away as prizes at his 1st birthday party. The remaining ring, the one with all the power, had gone down the plug-hole in the washroom where Isildur was slain and was lost for 2700 years. Then the time came when the ring ensnared a new ring-bearer. It came to the creature Gollum. He was supposed to be called Colin but his father was smothering his mother with a pillow when she named him and the muffled name of Gollum just stuck somehow. The ring twisted Gollum over the next 300 years and he went to live in a cave where he dropped it in a puddle and it was lost again for a full 5 hours. Just then your uncle Bilbo happened upon it whilst relieving himself in the puddle and he brought it home with him. And now the ring has passed to you.”

“Oh well thank you VERY much! Just what I needed. To be caught in possession of the one ring which can allow Sauron to reconstruct the Swings of Power and destroy the world. No wonder people are trying to kill me. Here take it.”

“I cannot Frodo!”

“Take it Gandalf, I don’t want it!”

“Frodo you cannot offer me this ring!”

“Take it!”

“Don’t… tempt me Frodo! You must understand, I would use this ring out of a desire to do good. But through me… it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.”

“I think you’re over-estimating yourself a little, don’t you?”

“Get stuffed!”

“So anyway, what must I do?”

“According to my plot synopsis you are to leave Hobbiton tonight and fail to meet me at the Inn of the Prancing Pony at Brie. Suppose we had better do that then. Ok. You and Sam go to Brie. Pick up a couple of pretty young hobbits on the way if you can. Meridoc Brandbuck and Peregrine Took ought to do. They’ll keep you warm at nights on the way to Mordor.”

“I thought you said we were going to Brie.”

“Damn, shouldn’t have said that. Get going the pair of you. I’ll see you at Brie, or not as the case may be.”

“Fat lot of help you are, you poor excuse for a wizard. Card tricks and bunches of flowers up your sleeve? Not exactly David Copperfield is it, really?” With those words Frodo left Bag End and hit the road. Or, rather more accurately, Frodo was kicked up his back end, flew out the front door of the burrow and hit the road… hard.

“Wasn’t this chapter supposed to be about a funeral?” asked Sam a millisecond before Bilbo’s coffin came hurtling towards him at break-neck speed. Fortunately, according to the various pieces of fantasy art based upon this tale, Sam, in fact, had no neck so it did very little damage when it struck him squarely at the top of his spine. The coffin had, for reasons of taste and decency, been closed before it was chucked. Not that this did much good because when Peregrine and Meriadoc slammed into them a moment later, the lid came off again and Bilbo’s rather odorous and broken corpse flew across the road, down the Hobbiton waterfall, bounced and went through the roof of the late Master Took’s burrow narrowly missing the place where Took’s head would have been lying in his own coffin, had he not lost it earlier the previous day.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

“Chapter 2 - Three’s Company, Four’s Better and Five is Morally Questionable”


Having disposed of Bilbo’s body in a none-too-subtle manner we can now progress with the story once more. The hobbits decided not to travel by the roads again so as to avoid any Riders in Nappies and headed instead for the woods which stretched across the shire. They travelled by night so as to keep up a spooky atmosphere and pitched their tents during the day so as to draw as much attention to themselves as possible. Sam and Merriadoc (whom we shall call Merry to save on ink) cuddled up against a great oak whilst Frodo and Peregrine (whom we shall call Pippin for no apparent reason) found a secluded spot in a nearby clearing in which to carry out a few extra-marital activities to pass the time.

Suddenly, Frodo leapt to his feet (having first removed Pippin) and looked about him. There was an unmissable stench of talcum powder in the air and that could only mean one thing. The Riders in Nappies were close by. Frodo shook Pippin who indicated that he was quite shagged out for the time being. Frodo shook him again and dragged him back to where the other two had stopped cuddling and were now wetting themselves. They had caught wind of the Riders too. The hobbits decided that they would not wait around to be rattled to death and ran towards the Brandywine River at the edge of the wood.

Just as they were about to reach the Buckleberry Ferry, a baby on horseback flew out of the trees and reared up in front of them and started to cry. It was a wail of a cry and it wouldn’t stop. It was a terrible creature to behold. It had small tufts of hair on its pink and wrinkled brow and its nappy obviously hadn’t been changed in a while. The drool which oozed from its mouth and nose had been known to cause grown men to faint (although woman seemed to be strangely immune to this phenomenon) and the stench was sufficient to fell a balrog at 300 paces. Frodo decided at this point that he would never be having children. Then he remembered. Bilbo had always insisted that he carry his mobile with him when he was going out. Frodo had misunderstood and bought a set of clowns on string that span around when you pressed a button. Without much time to think, he climbed a nearby tree and hung the mobile from the nearest branch and quickly tugged the cord. The clowns began to spin and the music box inside began to play a rather tinny version of the Brahms Lullaby. The Rider gurgled with delight and parked his horse under the tree to watch the mobile spinning while the hobbits made their escape.

It wouldn’t take long for the baby to get bored and resume the chase so they did not have much time. They ran down to the ferry (which was really just a couple of planks of wood strapped together) and pushed away from the side. The terrible scream which followed told them that the baby had realised that they had gone and was coming towards them. Just as they reached the opposite bank the baby rode into the clearing and stopped. A baby’s eyesight is not good at the best of times but in the dark it was worse. Instead, the baby sniffed the air trying to find their scent. But all it picked up was the wiff of its own nappy. It would have to have it changed and resume the search later. The hobbits were safe, for now.

The village of Brie was a strange place to meet, Frodo thought. Inhabited by full-sized men, it was the worst place for a group of hobbits to be if they wanted to remain inconspicuous. Having conned their way past the guard at the village gate they found the Inn of the Prancing Pony and booked a room for the night. Frodo ordered room service and they all went up to bed. They were followed by a hooded man. Frodo assumed he was a rent boy and turned to tell him that they were all sleeping together and didn’t need any additional assistance but the man pushed Frodo up against the wall and demanded that Frodo took better care of his ring.

“We only did it the once and we used condoms.”

“Not that ring you stupid little halfling. The one Gandalf gave you.”

“Bugger,” said Frodo.

“He did give you the ring, didn’t he?”

“Actually, no he didn’t. He told me about it then sent me on my way.”

“Typical! So where is Gandalf then?”

“He said he would meet us here.” Frodo ran back down the stairs with the man taking up the rear (no comments please) and marched up to the barman. “Where’s Gandalf?”

“He was here this afternoon but he said he had to rush off again. He left a message for anyone who asked for him to say that he would meet them at Rivendell wherever that is.”

That night the hobbits and the strange man headed out once more on their way to Rivendell to meet Gandalf. Later in the night the Riders in Nappies arrived and floated into the Inn. The leader approached the innkeeper and demanded to know where Gandalf was.

“He was here this afternoon but he said he had to rush off again. He left a message for anyone who asked for him to say that he would meet them at Rivendell wherever that is.”

“Thanks,” gurgled the baby equestrian and they rode out again in pursuit. Clearly, Gandalf had not left instructions about who NOT to give his message to.

The company walked all the next day and night before the man finally told them that he was not a rent boy but a Ranger of the wilderness.

“They call me Strider.”

“I bet that’s not all they call you!” Sam regretted the remark when Strider’s sword showed its willingness to have harsh words with his softer parts. He retracted the comment.

“I have been asked to accompany you in this quest and get you as far as I can towards Mordor.” Frodo wished everyone would stop mentioning the possibility of going to Mordor. Brie or Rivendell sounded much nicer. “First, however, we shall go to Rivendell.” This made Frodo feel marginally better despite the inference that they would still be going to Mordor. So off they travelled towards Rivendell to visit the Queens of Drag (oh yes… and visit some elves while they were there).

[Gatsby]

hahaha, once again wicked funny
out
gatsby

[Mark Tierney]

This story is hilarious.
A work of genius!

[Pil]

:thumbs: Brilliant my friend! Another great up-date!

We eagerly await the next part! :)

[Bess the Bard]

Wickedly funny indeed. Bring on the next installment!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 3 – The Flight in the Ford


The weary travellers wandered on into the night. Sam and Frodo were out in front with the remainder of the group about 2 miles behind them as the crow limps. They had all set off from Brie together but Merry and Pippin had been forced to take pause for an hour or so in order to torture Strider, painfully and suitably slowly to induce him to desist from singing those god-awful songs.

“One more word about Luthien and I’ll make sure that you really are the last of your line!” Given that Merry and Pippin had the collective height and strength of a particularly diminutive grass-hopper with a hangover, this seemed a rather empty threat. Strider had, however, issued them both with swords and if Merry were to stand on Pippin’s shoulder’s and jump he would be just about high enough to imasculate him. Having weighed up the options Strider decided to take up line-dancing and leave the singing to the elves. All those present agreed that this was a wise decision.

The first patch of blue sky appeared in the east and the darkness receded. The travellers welcomed the arrival of the sun and took their first look around them to ascertain where they were. Merry, Pippin and Strider were sitting by a large watch tower with “Amun-Sul” written on the side of it beneath a larger sign with mystic writing on it which appeared to say “Rolex” in elvish. The sun shone on the ruined battlements of this relic of the times of Belariand and the warmth of its rays on their faces brought gladness to their troubled hearts.

Sam and Frodo, on the other hand took one look with their newly awoken eyes and realised that they too were at the watch tower, and surrounded by Riders in Nappies. They got the shock of their lives. Actually, the Riders seemed quite surprised themselves. They could see in the dark even less well than the hobbits. They put down their Farley’s rusks and moved towards the unfortunate pair threatening to undo their safety pins as they went. It is a little known fact that the term “safety pin” does not refer to the inability of the pin to scratch the baby but refers instead to the fact that, whilst it is in place, the world is safe from the nappy’s intoxicating contents. This safety was currently under threat. The entire cargo hold of the Enola Gay could not have held a force more lethal that the combined contents of the nappies which now threatened to present themselves for the hobbits’ inspection.

Sam made a run for it. He had spotted the others on the other side of the hillock and sped off to get help. Frodo, who did not appreciate being left on his own, grumpily stuffed his hands in his pockets and remembered the ring. He touched it for the briefest moment and one of the Riders took an ominous step forward keenly straining to see what Frodo was doing. Frodo, in a fit of panic slipped on the ring and disappeared from view. Except he didn’t. The servants of the Dark Lord could still see him. He slipped the ring off again.

“Fat lot of good you are if you can only hide me from people who don’t want to kill me. Thanks a bunch!”

The Rider who had crept forward, and was obviously the leader, tried to grab the ring from Frodo but the hobbit withdrew his hand quickly and slapped the Rider across the face. The Rider began to cry, that excruciating wail and it took one step back and removed its nappy. Frodo attempted to hold his breath but in doing so he drew in an extra long breath and took in an extra large gulp of stench as he did so. He fell to the earth and passed into darkness.

Sam and the others came hurtling around the side of the tower and started pelting the Riders with air-freshners. The Rider’s fled having been deprived of the only weapon with which Sauron would trust them at that age. Sam rushed to Frodo’s side and gave him over-enthusiastic mouth-to-mouth. Then Merry had a go, followed by Sam again and finally Pippin got his turn. Strider was still concerned that people might confuse him for a rent-boy again and so decided against joining in.

“He inhaled a little I think. We must get him to the elves.”

“Will they be able to save him?”

“Not sure, but they’ll smell a darn-sight better. We must get across the river and get to Rivendell as soon as possible.”

“But how will we get across? There are no bridges for miles around.” Sam had absolutely no idea how he new this as he had never been further from Hobbiton that the end of his street. However, it was in the script and so he felt somewhat obliged to say it.

“We must find a ford to take us across.” At these words a rather bashed-up blue Ford Anglia dropped out of the sky and hit a tree. This was not the kind of ford that Strider had in mind. The doors opened and a small boy with glasses fell out, closely followed by a ginger-haired kid and what looked like a squashed bird in a cage. The boy with glasses groaned and mumbled something about getting to school in one piece before he passed out.

“Sorry mate, no time to help right now, we need to borrow your car.” The hobbits piled onto the back seat while Strider strapped himself in at the front. The passenger-side door sprang and an elf-maiden hopped in giving no explanation as to what she was doing there but nobody seemed to be asking questions at this stage. The car rose jerkily into the air and headed for Rivendell. It headed back to the watch tower moments later when Sam pointed out that they had forgotten to pick Frodo up off the ground.

[Little Devil]

roflmao roflmao lol lol so funny, your good ;)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 4 – Four Meetings and a Funeral


“Where am I?”

“You are in Rivendell. It is 10 o’clock in the morning on September 1st if you’d like to know.”

“Gandalf?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?!?!? Leaving us all alone in Brie and then running on ahead here to Rivendell just so that you could say you got here first! Funny how you’re never there for the important bits innit? And another thing! I would have thought someone of your alleged intelligence would take more care about smoking pipes around invalids!”

“Lord Elrond has kindly agreed to use his elvish medicine to save your life dear Frodo. He will be glad to withdraw the treatment if I ask him to so just you be careful. The pipe is a necessary part of your treatment. It will clear your lungs of all the gunge left there by the Riders in Nappies. Unfortunately, as with all modern medicine, there is a small risk that the treatment may cause a few minor side effects.”

“Like lung cancer, emphysema, bronchitis, thrombosis….I’ll take my chances with the gunge if you don’t mind.”

“Frodo!” Sam ran into the room followed closely by a drag queen. The drag queen, whom Frodo took to be an elf, looked rather bedraggled as his hair was a mess and there was copious amounts of mascara and lip gloss all over his Lincoln Greens.

“Sam, are you wearing lip gloss and mascara?”

“Mr Frodo, I’ve been meeting the elves.” Frodo realised that this was not all Sam had been doing with them and made a mental note to have Sam neutered. The elf, realising that Sam had now turned his affections towards Frodo, sat on Gandalf’s lap and began playing with his staff. Gandalf mimed something to the effect that he had no money to pay for his services, at which point the elf clambered off him and left the room.

“Frodo,” said Gandalf, “I would like you to meet someone. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.” Strider marched through the door and smiled at Frodo.

“You said your name was Strider!”

Strider, suddenly whipped off his clothes. This came as something as a shock to Frodo. In fact, it came as something of a shock to Strider too as he had been sure he had put on his special “I’m-Next-in-Line-For-The-Throne” boxer-shorts. Still it seemed to be keeping Sam and Gandalf interested.

“Nice ****!” exclaimed Sam. Frodo sincerely hoped that he was talking about the tattoo of a chicken that Aragorn had just below his left nipple. He hoped in vain.

“Right,” said Frodo, “so I’ve met Aragorn, Gandalf and some tart of an elf. So who’s the forth one I get to meet then?” He stared in disbelief at the doorway. It was pretty unremarkable except in the fact that it contained a figure whom Frodo had never thought to see alive again. Mainly, because the last time he saw him he had in fact been dead. It was Bilbo. He looked to be in perfect health. Well, perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement. He had numerous bruises from when he had been thrown over the Hobbiton waterfall and various cuts and bruises from having been used as a projectile weapon by Gandalf not long before that, but other than that and having been run over by a horse-drawn cart, he looked remarkably well.

“But how… when…what the f….”

“I needed to get away for a while so I asked Gandalf to fake my death for me. It worked too, until you threw me through Took’s roof you burk! Anyway, here I am and I am happier than I ever could have dreamt.”

“Well, that’s nice for you, you selfish old sod. I’m stuck carrying this ring to Mordor while you swan around here shagging elves and growing old when you should be in your grave. Just give me the elf-sword and the Mythryl and bugger off!”

“Frodo, I don’t think that’s any way to speak to y….” But it was too late, the damage had been done. Bilbo had laid the mythryl shirt and the sword on the edge of the bed and done everyone a favour by chucking himself over the Rivendell waterfall (which had been barely used what with elves being immortal and everything) thus providing us with the fast-track funeral to which the chapter heading refers.

“Well Gandalf, we did what we set out to do, we chucked Bilbo over a waterfall (although admittedly he chucked himself the second time) and we brought the ring to keep it safe in Rivendell.”

“Lord Elrond has chickened out I fear.” Gandalf looked quite narked. “He will not fight both Isengard and Mordor the lily-livered son of a cross-dresser! It appears that the ring cannot stay here. Sauron’s eye has turned to Rivendell and has winked a couple of times. The ring must be taken to Mordor to the fires of Mount Doom and cast back into the bowls of the earth from whence it was forged.”

“Well good luck then.” Frodo had already started packing for the return journey to Hobbiton. “Give my love to the Uruk Hai won’t you. And don’t forget it’s Sauron’s birthday on the 2nd of October so that gives you about a month to get there. See you.” And with that Frodo walked out of the door and down the stone steps that led to the bridge out of Rivendell. Sam and Merry dropped the elves they were abusing and followed him. All of a sudden a voice wailed across the valley. “Immoblius!!!!!” All three of them froze on the spot.

A young lad with glasses stepped out from behind a drag-queen and lowered his wand.

“Thank you Harry,” said Gandalf. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

[Pil]

Another fabulous update A.L.L.!!! roflmao lol roflmao

Just to let everyone know, i have merged the prologue thread, the chapter one thread and the chapter 2... thread into this one thread and the rest of the chapters will appear here. :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 5 – Harry Potter and the Council of Elrond


In the depths of the forest at Rivendell, an elf fell out of a tree and screamed. The rest of the elves thought this was the beginning of another song and broke into a cross between a celtic ballad and the sound of a cat being used as a carpet beater. Middle-earth heard their song and stuck its fingers in its ears. All lands east of the Ered Luin wished that the great sea had kept going when it swallowed Belariand and taken Rivendell with it.

The song ended abruptly as the gates of Rivendell swung open. Representatives of all the peoples of Middle-Earth came through although the Balrogs and the other servants of Mordor were turned away and told that their names weren’t down so they weren’t getting in.

Among the new arrivals was an elf, Legolas (son of Duplolas), a dwarf, Gimli (son of Groin) and a man, Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor Airlines. Each entered the city and marched up the steps to be seated with the Council. There were four elves, three dwarves, two men, one poor excuse for a wizard, a hobbit and two empty seats. Gandalf the Grey got to his feet and approached the centre of the circle. He beckoned for Boromir and Aragorn to approach him and then he turned to Frodo.

“Frodo, do you have the ring?” Frodo handed the ring to Gandalf and sat down again.

Gandalf took the hands of Boromir and Aragorn and bound them together with elven silk.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of these two men…”

Boromir withdrew his hand from the silk with a look of disgust. “ I will not marry a mere Ranger!”

“This is no mere Ranger!” Legolas stood to defend the love of his life. “This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and you owe him you allegiance!”

Boromir dropped to his knees. “Take me now!”

“Gandalf, stop messing about! The ring cannot be used to join these men in matrimony. You have only one choice. The ring must be destroyed.” Elrond was getting a little tetchy.

Legolas stood once more. “It must be taken to Mordor and cast into the fires of Mount Doom.”

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it!” Gimli the dwarf had stood up, although no one had really noticed what with him only being about 3 foot tall. “I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf!”

“Do-able.”

The Council erupted in a great affray. Men fighting with dwarves. Dwarves fighting with everybody and the elves standing under the arches to prevent themselves breaking a nail.

Frodo got bored of the arguing rather quickly and got up out of his seat. “I’m just going to the toilet, though I do not know the way.”

Gandalf pointed at him. “The hobbit says he will take the ring to Mordor!”

“No I didn’t. I said I was going to the toilet.”

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins.”

“The hell you will!”

“I’ll come with you!” cried Aragorn. “You have my sword!”

“And my bow!”

“And my axe!”

“Yeah, give us our weapons you back you thieving little b^$ta£d!”

They were about to head off for Mordor, via the toilet, when the boy with glasses and his ginger friend appeared and sat in the two vacant seats.

“Did we miss anything? I’m Ron by the way. Ron Weasley. This is Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Who?”

“Thank God,” said Harry. “At last, somewhere on earth where I am not famous. We’re coming with you to Mordor. We finished filming our stuff in April so we have a bit of time before the next one and thought we’d try and get in on a bit of your action if that’s alright.”

“Very well then Frodo nephew of Bilbo, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Gandalf son of a *****, Legolas son of Duplolas, Gimli son of Groin, Boromir son of an air-steward, Harry son of James and Ron son of some ginger bint in the back of a Jag on a Saturday night… you shall be the Fellowship of the Swings. Arwen! Fetch my camera!”

[Lalaith]

That is damned hilarious!!!!!!!!!
More! MORE!!!!

:thumbs:

[Pil]

Indeed....humour of the finest kind! roflmao

Thanks for updating A.L.L.! :)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 6 – The Ring Goes North and Then Realises It Is Travelling in the Wrong Direction


“Mordor, Gandalf. Is it left or right?”

“Right.”

The journey back over the marsh land was arduous. The fellowship hadn’t really noticed this part of the trek previously because some of them had been asleep in the back of the car, Gandalf had travelled by express eagle and the rest weren’t actually present at that stage anyway. Harry and Ron couldn’t be sure how they had gotten to Rivendell but, having said that, no-one really cared.

Had any of them been bothered to make the journey on foot as they were supposed to according to the traditional telling of this tale, they might have noticed that they should not have been on the marshes at this point. It is testament to the stupidity of he hobbits and the poor excuse for a wizard that they were back on the main street in Hobbiton by the time any of them realised that they had been heading north instead of south.

“I think we should have turned left.” Gandalf was pelted with a shower of rotten tomatoes before the words had even left his lips (in fact I believe he actually got as far as “I think we s…” before the first piece of tomato struck). “We had better leave before we run into any Riders in Nappies.”

“Let us sit on the ground and pad out this chapter first,” Legolas suggested.

A fire was lit in the centre of their circle and they sat twiddling their thumbs thinking of something to do while they waited for the dawn to come.

“Tell us about the Riders in Nappies, Aragorn.”

“I don’t know. Ask Gandalf.”

“They once were men. Well, that’s not strictly true. They were the baby sons of kings in the days of Isildur. When Isildur’s son held his first birthday party, he invited nine friends. The nine rings which Isildur had given his son held no real fascination with him and so he gave one to each of the other baby guests as booby prizes after they had let him win at Twister. But in the rings was the power to rule each race and so the babies wanted more and more power. Eventually they became so twisted by the power the rings gave them that they started wearing leather jackets and getting tattoos of the number nine on their ankles. They rode around on Harley-Davidsons for a while striking terror into the hearts of pedestrians everywhere until, one day, someone pointed out that motorcycles wouldn’t be invented for a few millenia so they started riding horses instead. The hunger for power became an addiction which only Sauron could satisfy. They were fostered out to him by the Middle-Earth Department of Social Services and they have served his will ever since. We have suffered the consequences of this error to this day.”

“So what happened then?”

“Well… that’s it really…”

“Good grief, you can’t even pad properly. How about you tell us where you were when you were supposed to be at Brie?”

“Ah, ‘tis a sad story…”

“That’s better, embelish it a little.”

“Do you want me to tell you this or not?”

“Good, good, keep stalling!”

“Listen you, if you don’t shut up…”

“Alright Gandalf, don’t overdo it.”

“I went to visit the former head of my order, Saruman, who, as you know, betrayed us a little too early in this story for my liking. Anyway, I thought I might be able to talk some sense into him and bring him back to the fold but he was having none of it. He nicked my stick and performed a few kung-fu moves on me before taking me up to the roof and leaving me for dead. There I sat for weeks on end, not knowing how to get down whilst all around me, Saruman’s minions tore down the trees and ran around shouting ‘Ooh-arrrrrrr!’ and waving cutlasses.”

“Can’t you do this bit in flash-back Gandalf, love, this is getting a bit tedious.”

“Very well.” You will have to imagine the screen going cloudy and lots of harp strumming to indicate that we are going into flashback. My SFX budget is somewhat limited.

The roof was cold and dank. Gandalf was hating every minute of it.

“Oh come on. Some people would pay good money to get a view like that.” Saruman had climbed up to the roof to taunt Gandalf as he did daily. His gnarled fingers clasped both his staff and Gandalf’s to his chest. On his shoulder sat a bird of the deepest black with sharp tallons and an annoying habit of saying “Pieces of eight!” and other equally inappropriate things at the most inopportune moments.

“Bloody bird.” Saruman look a little peeved. “They told me at the shop that it was a raven but the b^$tard$ sold me a miner bird.”

“Pieces of eight!”

“Not only that it would seem,” Gandalf smirked. “But a miner bird that thinks it’s a parrot.”

“We must join with Sauron. It would be wise my friend.”

“Shut up you stupid bird, I was saving that line!”

“Pieces of eight! Awound the Wagged Wock the White Wizard Wan!” The bird then flew off before Saruman could slap it hard over the head with Gandalf’s staff.

“The bird’s right you know. It would be wise my friend.”

“Tell me, friend. When did Saruman the Wise have his name changed by deed-poll to Saruman the Easily Duped by Dark Lords?”

“Rarrrgh!” Saruman roared and lunged at Gandalf. Gandalf stepped calmly out the way as Saruman tripped on his unfeasibly long robes and went head first over the edge of the tower landing in a pile of orc-dung at its base.

“Prat!”

Just then, as the camera was sweeping through the air to get an impressive ariel-view of Gandalf, a moth flew past the lens. The camera followed it for a while until it finally approached the roof of the tower. Gandalf reached out of his hand and started to talk to the moth. The moth, on the other hand, had other ideas and wafted out of his way.

“Just you stay there!” he grumbled threateningly. The moth tried to avoid his grasp again and so Gandalf stamped on it breaking one of its wings. He picked it up gently so as not to break the remaining wing and began to whisper in tongues. Then he let it g….

“Hang on Gandalf. What did you say to the moth then?”

“You cannot ask me questions, Gimli son of Groin. We are doing this in flashback!”

“Oh… sorry…carry on.”

“I spoke to the moth in his own language and told him that if he did not help me, if I were to get out of this alive, I would hunt him down and kill him, his family and his family’s family (which would still technically be his family but who gives a flying proverbial) in ways so degrading that even Sauron himself would wish he’d thought of it first. He agreed to help.” Gandalf had obviously abandoned the idea of doing this bit in flashback without first informing the author.

“It took him a couple of days to track down Harry as he was apparently lying unconscious at the base of a tree with Ron and a rather squashed snowy owl. When he found them he used Harry’s wand to beckon Buckbeak (a ridiculous creature with the body of a horse and the head of an eagle known as a hippogriff apparently) who deposited Harry and Ron at Rivendell after taking a slight detour to Isengard to rescue me.”

“We did rather wonder what Harry Potter was doing here.” Gimli was secretly quite a big fan of the Harry Potter films but doesn’t want anyone to know. He’s a big softy really.

“Am not!”

Are too!

“Am not!”

Do you mind? We’re running out of space in this chapter as it is. The padding seems to have worked very efficiently. Wake up Legolas and the others and we’ll get you lot moving.

Gimli stroked Legolas’s hair a little and then shook him gruffly mumbling something about tossing dwarves.

Harry and Ron sent off owls to their friends to tell them where they were going while Sam helped Frodo get dressed. Quite why he had been sitting there naked as a baboon nobody could quite fathom but Sam, Merry and Pippin had registered no complaints so the rest of the group had just let it go. When everyone had finished messing about, Gandalf made a mental note to buy a compass as they were passing through Brie and the fellowship went on their way.

[Lalaith]

Lovely. The tears are literally rolling down my face, I'm laughing so hard!

[Bess the Bard]

Brilliant!!! LOL!! Keep it up, please. It's the bright spot in my day.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 7 – The Fellowship Takes the Cook’s Tour and Ends up In the Dark

Given that Gandalf had not exactly demonstrated a great deal of skill at navigation, it may seem surprising to some that the fellowship then entrusted him with guiding them to Mordor. However, trust him they did as he led them down the map of Middle-Earth, waving to the elves of Rivendell as they passed by and finally setting up camp at a parting in the roads. One way would lead to the southern pass at Rohan whilst another would take them up into the mountains to the pass at Caradhras in Eregion. The final path would lead downwards into the realms of the dwarves. Gimli suggested that they try to go that way as it would be quicker than going around or over the mountains.

“Er, no I don’t think so Gimli, if it’s all the same to you.” Gandalf had been under the mountains and into the Mines of Moria during his summer holidays and been told, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t welcome in Moria since he had gone fishing in the mines and unwittingly unleased one of Morgoth’s sleeping balrogs.

“But my cousin, Balin, son of Boing, would give us a right royal welcome.” Gandalf knew that in his case that wasn’t true and they were more likely to kick his head in than offer him safe passage through the mines. Either that or they would personally feed him to the balrog with garlic bread and a small side-salad. He would avoid that path if at all possible.

“We will just have to hope that the way through Rohan is still open to us.”

Just then, a whole squadron of miner birds flew around the corner of the valley and sped towards them. They had been purchased by Saruman from Mordor Pets and, like the first one he’d acquired, he had been expecting ravens. He had thus expelled them from his presence and they had been flying around looking for something to do for a couple of weeks now.

“What’s that Gandalf?”

“Just a bunch of miner birds. I wouldn’t pay them too much attention.”

“But aren’t they spies from Isengard?” asked Harry, giving Ron a sly wink.

“Well, I suppose…”

“Bloody hell, their coming straight for us!” Gimli grabbed Legolas and dragged him behind a bush. This was followed by a flurry of unfeasably blond hair and the sound of a dwarf being slapped across the face. Legolas found another bush to hide behind.

Everyone hid. Everyone, that is, except Harry and Ron. They stood and passed meaningful glances between each other as they raised their arms and began to yell.

“This way! Their over here! Oy! Come on then! No not there you stupid bird. Behind the bush!” The miner birds, after a great deal of coaxing and hinting, had discovered the hiding places of most of the fellowship and were sweeping back to Isengard to tell-tale-***.

“Harry! Ron! What are you doing??!?!?!” Gandalf was aghast. “You gave us away!”

“But of course. You didn’t really think two boy wizards in their second year at school could contend with the will of Sauron. There are none who can. And besides, we don’t much care about the ring. We’re just here to sabotage this story. You didn’t think that, with our film out at the same time as yours, we were just going to sit back and let the audiences decide did you? Oh come on! Who do you think let the Riders in Nappies out of their play-pen?” Harry sounded really proud of himself for about three seconds when Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas pounced on the pair of them and threw them over the cliff. “Accio broomsticks!” Harry and Ron would not learn summoning charms until their 4th year at school but it appeared that they had been doing some extra reading as their broomsticks came flying up the cliff to meet them on their command. They flew off in the direction of Isengard after the miner birds.

“We shall have to take the pass at Caradhras to avoid the road passed Rohan.”

“Why. We’re just going to end up there anyway aren’t we?”

“Well yes but we cannot go that way now. The spies are watching.”

“Actually the spies have buggered off.”

“Do as you are told, Frodo Baggins.” He pulled a bunch of flowers out of his sleeve and stuffed it down Sam’s throat. It appeared that his barrel of tricks had been scraped clean.

“What d’ya do that fer?” Sam found himself a tadge muffled by the flowers but it didn’t matter because Gandalf had ignored him anyway.

Meanwhile, at Isengard, a squadron of miner birds was requesting landing clearance from the tower. They were cleared to land on runway 4 which confused them slightly as there was only one runway. They subsequently missed the ground completely and in their confusion ended up deep within the earth under Orthanc where they found Saruman playing with his new toy Urak-Hai merchandising figures.

“Get him Lurtz. Wargghhh!” Saruman suddenly stopped messing about as he slowly realised that everyone was staring at him. Then he saw the birds.

“I thought I banished you from this place. Leave or die!”

“Nice one Cyril, how’s yer father,” called the birds in unison. “Pieces of eight!”

“Well now that you’re here, what news of the fellowship.”

“We didn’t see the fellowship. But we saw Harry Potter and just had to come and tell you!”

“Harry who?” Then Saruman noticed in amongst the swirling birds were two boys on broomsticks who appeared to have followed them in. “Hey, you two, get down here. What can you tell me of the fellowship?”

“They’re heading for Caradhras. Over the mountains they will climb though not for long. We have sent spells to melt the snow and drive them into the Mines at Moria, that is if that old goat Gandalf can open the bloody door this time. He got trapped there for a whole week last time until one of the cleaners left for the night and he slipped in behind her.”

“You see!” Saruman shouted at the miner birds. “Why can’t you just fly in and say that, ey? What’s with all this flapping about and spouting a load of rubbish. Thank you Harry, Ron. Don’t go just yet. You may come in useful.”

“We were counting on it!”

“Want to play with my Urak-Hai?”

While Saruman wasted time the road across the mountains was proving perilous and the snow had been falling for a whole hour. The hobbits were ok cos they were kind of furry in the funniest of places. The rest, however, were used to warmer climates and were, without mincing words, freezing their nuts off.

“Hands up who’s for Moria?”

Gandalf took time out to wet himself and then joined them on the path down. Two seconds later the top fell off the mountain and Saruman’s avalanche missed the group by a whole two miles.

"Bugger," he said.

[Gatsby]

hahaha! love the 'arwen fecth my camera' hahaha... terribly funny
out
gatsby

[Pil]

This is truly hilarious A.L.L.! Thanks for updating...i really look forward to the next chapter! :hooray:

veryhappy

[Little Devil]

roflmao this is the funniest stuff. lol doing great

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Glad you like it. Just wish my brain didn't work so slowly at this time in the morning :snooze: then I could get these chapters out faster.

At this rate I'll be just about finished the Fellowship of the Swings by the time the Return of the King comes out at the end of the year.:boohoo:

Anyhoo, must dash. Masterpieces to mock, chapters to write (and elves to stroke naturally) :rolleyes: and all that.

Thanks again.

A.L.L.:thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 8 – The Bridge At Kabbaboom or “Gandalf Discovers The Law of Gravity”


“So, how do we get in then?” Even Legolas was getting impatient.

“Look! If you want to have a go at this then I’d be happy to hear any suggestions. If not, then sit down and keep schtum! And stop stroking the dwarf, you don’t know where he’s been.!”

“Yeah… er….stop stroking me,” stuttered Gimli, a little late for anyone to take his resistance particularly seriously.

Gandalf had been working on the door for two days now. It seemed strange that not so much as a cleaner had come to their aid. The place seemed deserted. The rest of the party sat on rocks and tried to think of methods of passing the time that could appear in a production rated 12A. They could think of nothing.

Merry and Pippin skimmed stones across a pool of water next to the walls of Moria. Something stirred.

“Do not disturb the water little ones,” Aragorn advised. “We do not know what dangers hide in its depths.”

All of a sudden, Rupert Giles sprang out of the water and karate chopped Frodo.

“Oh, I do apologise. I thought you were trying to get into Moria. Can’t let you do that I’m afraid. Not until Buffy gets here and ensures that all is well.”

“Arrrgh!” screamed Boromir, whom everyone had forgotten was there. “It’s the Watcher of the Water! Quickly, into the mines!”

“Er…Boromir… we can’t go into the mines. Gandalf hasn’t managed to find the password yet.”

“Quick Gandalf, what does that elvish above the door say?!?”

“It is says, in the common tongue, The Doors of Dimwit. Ring the Bell for Assistance and Enter”.

“Well, have you tried ringing the bell?”

“Of course I have you stupid little Took! But if they’re all dead then how can they answer the door?”

Gimli turned a funny shade of green. “What did he say?”

“He said they’re all dead,” the Watcher added, trying, in that annoying way that he has, to be helpful.

“They can’t be. How would Gandalf know if they were anyway?”

“Erm… Eh… Ah… Yes, good point.” Gandalf scraped the barrel of his brain for some kind of escape route from his little slip-of-the-tongue. The best he could come up with, however, was “Well, we’ll never know now because this door will only open if someone answers the bell. It is protected by elven magic which cannot be broken by common means.”

“Well, actually,”said the Watcher, not really wanting to interrupt but doing so anyway, “there is a handle.”

“Where?” asked Gimli.

“Just there. The wizard is hiding it behind his robes.”

“No I’m not!”

“I assure you he is.”

“Out of my way!” cried Gimli as he thrust Gandalf aside and turned the handle. The doors swung open and the stench of death flooded out of the dark hallway.

“How do you explain that Gandalf?” Gimli demanded.

“Lucky guess?”

Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas crept into the hallway, closely followed by the hobbits. Suddenly the Watcher shot forward and grabbed Frodo’s leg and refused to let go, even when Sam got a little jealous and stamped on the Watcher’s head.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” The politeness of the Watcher terrified the group and they ran as fast as they could into the mines leaving Frodo and Sam to deal with Mr Giles.

“Look, I’m only trying to save you from a rather horrible end.”

“Don’t listen to him Mr Frodo! It’s a trick.”

“You’ll regret it.”

Frodo kicked out hard and caught the Watcher on the nose. He let go for a moment to wipe his glasses and to look up how to fight hobbits in one of his books. The two hobbits broke away and ran into the shadows of Moria.

“Got it!” the Watcher exclaimed and cast a spell at them. The roof in the entrance-way fell in.

“Ah. Perhaps not. Mental note to self : need new glasses.”

The fellowship found itself in the dark. This should have happened in the last chapter but owing to Gandalf’s stupidity and the events on the mountain-top it had taken rather longer than expected to get this far. As such the journey to the other side of Moria can be paraphrased thus : -

It was dark, Gandalf lit a torch, all the dwarves were dead, “They are coming”, “They’ve gone again”,they ran, fought and ran again and then stopped for a tea-break. Now the group are surrounded by goblins and Gandalf is about to let out a loud expletive as he realises the balrog is on its way.

“############ HELL! RUN FOR IT!!!!!!”

“Which way?”

“To the Bridge at Kabbaboom!”

When they got to the top of a flight of stairs, Gandalf bade them stay put while he checked up ahead. He crept into the next chamber with his staff cocked. He heard a groan and whipped around to see a dwarf, semi-conscious and badly wounded but alive.

“It was you!” The dwarf looked at Gandalf accusingly. “You set the balrog free!”

“Balin, son of Boing! It was an accident. I was greedy and fished too deep.”

“Yeah? Well don’t think you’re going to get away with it. I’m going to…. What are you doing? Put that staff down, you could put someone’s eyes out with that…No….NOOO!”

“What was that noise Gandalf?” asked Gimli as the wizard returned from the chamber.

“Nothing, just removing a dangerous obstacle from my…our path. Follow me.”

They entered the chamber and looked about them. The chamber was strewn with blood and a rather charred body lay in the corner of the room. All that remained of the poor unfortunate was a single finger protruding from the far wall.

“Balin!!” cried Gimli. “I’d recognise that nail varnish anywhere!! This is the last resting place of Balin, son of Boing, nephew of Groin and Lord of Moria. Alas, I fear Moria is lost.”

“No s**t” Boromir whispered to Aragorn as the footsteps of the balrog began to bring the ceiling down.

“Aragorn, you must lead them to the bridge.”

“Why, are swords no more use here?”

“Well that too. Besides, you don’t think I’m going first do you? I mean there could be goblins and all sorts. Let Boromir go first. With any luck he’ll fall of the edge of the precipice or something. Go!”

They ran down onto a large staircase in the centre of an enormous cavern.

“Look!” called Gandalf. “The Bridge of Kabbaboom!” He pointed across the chasm to the bridge about three hundred yards directly in front of them. They then ran down about four hundred steps to a platform far below them and found themselves at the bridge. This confused the hell out of most the cast and many of the people watching the film but they just put it down to Gandalf’s complete lack of a sense of direction and ran across the bridge to the exit on the far side. Half way across the bridge Gandalf dropped 25p out of his pocket and bent over to pick it up just as the balrog took its first step onto the bridge. Now anyone who had seen this bridge would know that there was no way that something the size of the balrog could hope to step on it without snapping it in two. Apparently the balrog had not thought of this before but did realise all of a sudden as it plummeted down into the depths.

“If I’m going down, he’s coming with me,” thought the balrog and lashed its whip of fire up to the bridge where Gandalf was trying to stand up. It wrapped around his ankle and pulled him backwards just enough to leave him hanging on the edge of the broken bridge. He struggled a little then looked across at the others.

“Nooo!” cried Frodo as he tried to run to Gandalf’s aid. Aragorn, realising that Gandalf was a goner, wrapped on arm around Frodo and held him back.

Gandalf gasped a little with the effort of holding himself up and hissed at the group “Help me you fools!” but the others just stood there writhing about in slow motion and when he could hold on no longer, Gandalf’s grip loosened and he fell backwards into Book 2.

Naturally, at times like this, emotions are running high and people tend to re-invent the facts. When this tale is told later, however, all of them seem to have been under some group dillusion that Gandalf was taking a courageous last stand against the balrog and that he told them save their own skins. This was not the case and the group would be made to regret leaving Gandalf to his doom when he is sent back by the Valar to finish what he had started and not be so stupid this time. But that is a story for another day.

The sorry little group were sitting outside having a cry on the rocks. They had made it to the other side of the mountains but at a cost. Gimli had lost a cousin and they had all lost a good friend. Well, Gandalf anyway. As often happens when people believe others to be dead, no matter how much they hated them in life they suddenly talk of them as though they were the best of buddies. Hypocrisy, it seems even rears its ugly head in tales of heroes and their great deeds. Anyway, Aragorn stood up.

“Legolas, get them up.” Legolas lifted his legs behind his head. “There’s no time for that!” Legolas looked quite disappointed so Aragorn promised him a cuddle when they got to Lothlorien. “Round up the group and let’s get going.”

“Give them a moment for pity’s sake.” Boromir was getting a bit miffed about not having many lines and so was making up his own up. Don’t worry, I’ll kill him off later. (Apologies to any Boromir fans, but this is not the Boromir from the film of whom I am more than a little enamoured, this is the one from my story, who is a bit of a *** really).

“By nightfall these hills will be crawling with orcs. I’m off to Lothlorien. You may come if you so wish.”

The weary travellers gathered their belongings and put away their hankies and headed Lothlorien. Home of the fairest of the elves, Galadrial and her love-bunny, Brian (known to his subjects as Lord Celeborn) and most enchanting of all the eleven heartlands that remained in Middle-Earth. Aragorn looked about him and wished that Gandalf had not fallen into shadow. After all, he had the compass.

[Lalaith]

Beautiful! Just beautiful! Loved the Watcher! Ah! Inspired!

[Little Devil]

Getting better everytime! lol

[Huan the Hound]

roflmao What more can I express? This made my day!:thumbs:

[Gatsby]

lordy be birl this is wicked funny!
out
gatsby

[Little Devil]

This is the funniest thing I've read since the Secret Diaries ;) lol

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks Little D. I appreciate it. it may take a short while to get the next bit up but hopefully it will be later on today if I have the time to squeeze my brain after work.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 9 - “Lothlorien” or “So I married a Drag Queen”


The journey to Lothlorien didn’t take too long given that Aragorn had forgotten to pick up the compass before Gandalf fell off the bridge. This was, in part, due to the fact that you could see Lothlorien from the mountain-side where the group had exited Moria. They arrived in the woods a little after midday the next day and checked in to the Lothlorien Marriott for a couple of hours kip before heading further into the forest. The food at the hotel was a little odd in Aragorn's opinion and so they stopped by a stream to catch some fish. While Aragorn and Legolas stripped down to their briefs and swam about pretending to be tickling trout, the remainder of the group sat by the water's edge and tried to ignore the fact that Gimli was lying at the bottom of the stream pretending to be a trout. Legolas was more interested in trying to tickle Aragorn and twice had to be told that trout don't usually swim so close to a man's underwear, least of all swim inside them and to the right a bit.

Gimli gave up trying to be molested and waded, drippingly, out of the water to join the others.

"We will have to wait a while for supper I fear. Be on the look-out my young hobbits. They say an elven witch lives in these woods and she has a habit of convincing men that they are women and makes them wear copious amounts of make-up and prance around like a bunch of nancy-boys. No-one bothered to point out to Gimli that he had just spent the best part of an hour trying to get an elf to tickle his tackle and so had no right to complain. "Fear not my young hobbits..."

"Actually, I am still here you know." Boromir was trying to get in on the dialogue again. "It's not just the hobbits."

Gimli apologized for his oversight but continued to just talk to the hobbits anyway.

"Fear not my young hobbits. I have the eyes of a rabbit and the ears of a hawk."

"But hawks don't have ears, do they?" Whether they do or not is not really the point. The next moment proved that, even were hawks to suddenly discover that they had ears, they were wholly insufficient for anything other than listening to erupting volcanoes at blank range as the group was surrounded by drag-queens. before they new what was happening. Aragorn and Legolas were ordered from the water once the elves had hidden their clothes. It was sort of like the scene in Planet of the Apes where Charlton Heston has his clothes nicked so he has to run around naked. On this occasion, however, the view was somewhat better as it was Aragorn and Legolas who were were made to run about in see-through wet briefs. One could be forgiven for imagining that this was the elves' intention as the remainder of the group were made to stand still. I shall have to stop writing for a moment. There is a mental image running around in my brain which I simply cannot shake.

(numerous cold showers later....)

Let us proceed.

"We could have shot the dwarf in the dark." It was Haldir son of Haldonaminute and brother of Haldyerhorses. "Welcome to the Golden Wood, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and heir to the throne of Gondor." Boromir muttered something under his breath about Gondor having no king and needing no king, but everyone ignored him so it really wasn't worth mentioning.

"You bring great evil here little one. You can go no further!"

Aragorn sped off to talk to the elves, after having first reminded Legolas for the last time that there were no fish in his knickers and, as far as he was concerned, there never would be. This seemed to cheer Legolas up a little and he withdrew his hand.

Aragorn began a whole scene of overacting with excessive use of arm gestures which amused the elves greatly. They let this continue until Aragorn's underwear had dried out and then tried not to show their pleasure as they informed him that they had simply been trying to get him riled and that they had already been ordered to bring the fellowship before Galadriel and Brian...er Celeborn.
Aragorn went bright red and covered up his midsection with Legolas's hand. This only encouraged the elves (and Legolas) so he removed the hand.

"Here are your clothes Legolas," Haldir said dryly. "Unfortunately, my Lord Aragorn, we have mislaid yours. Oh and it appears there is no-one left in the group big enough to supply you with spares. A shame to be sure(!)"

"Actually..." said Boromir but then decided that he did not feel inclined to do Aragorn any favours.

"You will have to continue as you are. You can walk in front if you wish." The elves behind Haldir could contain themselves no longer and burst into hysterical laughter. Aragorn strode forward trying, but failing, to keep any of his former dignity, but at least providing the group with something to look at rather than the repetitive view of trees and moss.

After two days of having remarks made about the pertness of his buttocks, Aragorn turned a corner and there, before him appeared the woodland paradise that was Lothlorien. The rest of the group was staring so intently at his posterior that didn't notice that he had stopped and they crashed into Aragorn sending the entire company careering down the grassy bank to the foot of a large wooden staircase which wound its way around the most enormous tree the hobbits had ever seen.

"I've never seen one so big." Aragorn instinctively covered himself with a near-by leaf but realised that Sam had been talking about the tree. Besides, Sam had already seen Aragorn naked and so any attempt to cover his attributes would have been totally redundant.

"Oh look, Aragorn." Haldir approached. "We appear to have found your clothes."

"A likely story." They gave Aragorn time to get dressed, much to Legolas's disappointment and then they mounted the stairs and ascended until they reached the highest platform. It was a pearly white, which the group soon discovered was due to the large number of birds who persisted in mistaking this part of the city for a toilet. They all found branches to stand under just in case and as they did so they gasped in astonishment. Down another flight of stairs came a she-elf of infinite beauty. She glowed under the elven night-lights, a brilliant shade of white. They could not decide whether this was elven magic or the fact that she spend too many nights standing in the middle of this platform. beside her was another elf. He was not quite so beautiful as he looked a little deflated and had elastoplasts all over him.

"He's great isn't he," said the she-elf as she noticed the group staring at him. "A little worse for wear these days I'm afraid. Too many rough nights in the bushes but the catalogue had a 3 year guarantee and the newest model doesn't even need to be inflated. Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't done the introductions. I'm Galadriel and this is my... er...my... husband! that's it, yes my husband. The old one was killed during the last battle against Sauron 3000 years ago. I tried having him stuffed but he kept leaking sand all over the shop so I went for the inflatable option. He tends to fly off into the night if I burst him but that's better than sand between the sheets anyday, am I right?" The group didn't really know what to say.

"So who's for a cup of tea while they change the scenery for the next chapter?"

[Elven Daughter]

Totally...awesome!:)

[Bess the Bard]

Fantastic, A.L.L.! You've given me plenty to dream about tonight with this latest installment. :snooze: :drool:

Maybe I can try a little trout tickling in my dreams....
:naughty: :trout:

[Lalaith]

I didn't think you could get much funnier..but you have! :thumbs:

Ah, Brian...sorry, Celeborn... beautiful!

[Little Devil]

roflmao :jester:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 10 – “Galadriel’s Mirror” or “The Future’s Bright, The Future’s Sauron”


“So Frodo, you’ve seen the eye.”

“Er, no.”

“Oh. Says here you have.”

“Nope, sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Must be getting you mixed up with somebody else.”

“Guess so.”

“You know this really isn’t good enough!!!” Gimli and Aragorn were sharing lines now in order to save space. Although, considering that I am using up all this space explaining this point, I really don’t know why they bothered. Such is life.

“We come here in good faith, bringing our heavy burden and all we expect is that the characters can actually say their lines! I mean, he’s an inflatable for pity’s sake! How can he much desire to speak with Gandalf if he can’t even close his mouth?” Aragorn, feeling a little narked, smacked the inflatable head and it let out a great raspberry as it deflated a little further.

“Well at least he’s not a cardboard cut-out I guess. Anyway, we’ll just have to tell them what happened to Gandalf ourselves.”

Galadriel looked up suddenly. “He is fallen into shadow. Oh well. You’ll just have to do without him for a while.” The group of travellers seemed perturbed by her bluntness and gave voice to their grief at Gandalf’s loss (the dillusion had not yet worn off). It turned out however that Galadriel was older than she looked and had seen Gandalf fall off enough bridges and other such things to know that it was nothing to get het-up about. “No-one really knows what use he is anyway to be honest.”

“Don’t you mean ‘We do not yet know his full purpose’?” Aragorn was examining his script.

“No,” said Galadriel, throwing her script out of the glorified tree-house from which they sat and watched it take out a few elves sitting in the lower branches and give a couple of gossiping squirrels some rather nasty paper-cuts.

Anyway, to cut a long story short (a bit late for that I know), the group ended up getting into their sleeping bags (the elves of Lothlorien were not as willing to give the travellers beds as those in Rivendell) and Frodo got up in the middle of the night to follow Galadriel down to the nearest magic bowl she could find. She stood there, her thin dress waving in the wind and revealing the fact that she was knack-knee’d. Frodo approached cautiously down the staircase.

“Do you know what this is Frodo?”

“It’s a magic bowl.”

“That’s right. When some of the Palantir’s were nicked in the old-days, we had to find other means of communication. We use these to talk to other elves around Middle-Earth. I will use it more in the second book but for now I can only tell you that we discovered that the bowls have a curious side-effect. For when particularly annoying characters from works of fiction look into them they reveal many things, usually death and destruction but not always. Fancy having a go?”

“Yeah alright.”

Frodo stood up to the bowl and stared into its depths.

“Nope. Can’t see a thing. Does this mean I am not a particularly annoying character from a work of fiction?”

“No Frodo. I haven’t turned it on yet.” With these words Galadriel raised her hand, muttered a few words of elvish which sounded something like ‘bubble bubble toil and trouble’ and then flicked a switch under the bowl. Her DVD player sprang into life and an image appeared on the bottom of the bowl. Frodo looked down and watched the opening credits and saw Bilbo getting squashed by the cart and the Riders in Nappies approaching the Shire.

“I’ve seen this bit.”

“Hang on. I’ll fast-forward.” The images sped up and Frodo watched the whole of the adventure so far in wonder. Galadriel realised that it would be quicker to use the chapter selection and she selected the last scene in the movie. Hobbiton appeared but it was different somehow. Frodo thought that there weren’t usually hobbits running around with their hair on fire being chased by orcs. But then, he couldn’t be sure.

“Is this the future?”

“Yes, and no. It shows us nothing more than our deepest and most desperate desires. Men have wasted away in front of it. That is why tomorrow I have asked that it be moved to a new home and I must ask you, Harry, never to come looking for it again.” Galadriel looked round.

“Listen, Dumbledore, how many times have I told you. This is not your film! Get lost! I mean, Potter isn’t even here. He buggered off and joined Saruman and Sauron.”

“Harry? Join the Dark Lord? Proposterous! He must be acting under the Imperius curse. The Dark Lord killed his parents. He wouldn’t be that daft. Unless…”

“Unless what? Look just say what you have to say and be-gone. We need to get on with our story!”

“I fear that now, your story and Harry’s life may hang by the same thread. It is my belief that Harry is trying to help you, despite what appears to have happened so far.”

“Are you done now?”

“Er…yes.”

“Good. Then you don’t need to be here. Shoo!”

And with a poof, Dumbledore was gone. The poof returned a couple of second later as he had forgotten his Lincoln Greens but then he vanished again and the story continued without further interruption, at least for the remainder of the scene.

“In answer to your question Frodo, this is the future that may be. It is my belief that a man named Peter Jackson has filmed a number of different endings for the film just to keep you guessing. These scenes are currently only available on the extended DVD version but if you don’t do your job properly this may wind up as the ending. We wouldn’t want that now would we? So I suggest you pull your finger out and get your act together. The ring must be destroyed.”

“Why don’t you take the bloody thing if you think you can do any better?!?”

“Cos then I’d go bad too.”

“Oh well that’s just great! No doubt you will now claim that your refusal to take the ring was a noble act and not at all intended to save your own skin!”

“Damn right! Now go back to bed. I have to diminish and go into the West and remain Galadriel.” And with that she disappeared.

Frodo awoke the next morning and found that everyone else was already packed and ready.

“Come on Mister Frodo. We’ll miss the next canoe!” Frodo ran down to the tree root where the boats were moored. The group were standing in a line waiting for their leaving presnets. Before them stood Galadriel. At least it looked like Galadriel but was in fact another elf in drag. It was, admittedly, difficult to tell the difference first thing in the morning. The elf was giving out gifts which Galadriel was supposed to give out herself but for the fact that she was sitting in her trailer throwing a tantrum about the amount of bird poo on her costume and the fact that the caravan was about to depart for the West were she would remain Galadriel.

The hobbits each received a small knife of guilted elven silver. Except Sam. He got a small vegetable peeler of guilted elven silver and a stretch of old rope.

“What the hell’s this then? How come they get nice shiny daggers and I get a fruit knife and a bunch of tatty old rope!”

“It is not a fruit knife it is a vegetable peeler. And it is not just any old rope. It is elven rope.”

“And? Does that make it good? I mean those daggers are elven silver. My sword is everyone else’s silver. What’s the bloody difference? It still means that I am left with a piece of cutlery and some glorified string!”

“And you Legolas…”

“Don’t ignore me when I’m shouting at you!”

“Look I’ve just walked past Boromir and not given him anything. You don’t hear him grumbling do you?” Boromir was under strict instructions not to deliver any lines without the permission of the author so was keeping quiet. Sam went to sit in the boat in a huff. He had spent his youth dreaming of the day when he could meet the elves but now he was heartily sick to the back teeth of them.

“And you Legolas shall receive this bow from the wood-elves. It is an elven bow and is better than anybody else’s because we say so. Oh and here’s a £10 voucher for Marks and Spencers. I hear they do a lovely line in green tights.” Legolas bowed low hoping to catch a glimpse of Aragorn’s legs.

“Galadriel couldn’t think of anything to give you Aragorn so she said that you shall have the love of a she-elf and you shall die before her and she will wander the earth in torment.”

“Not much of a gift that is it?”

“Not really no. And you Legolas… Legolas? You have already received your present!” Legolas had crept to the other side of Aragorn and was still bowing low hoping to get further glimpses of Aragorn’s lower body (after all, he dresses to the left). He stood up quickly and went to save a space for Aragorn in the canoe.

“And what would a dwarf ask of the Lady of the Light?”

“Nothing.”

“Ok.”

“Only, to look upon her fair face again.”

“Sorry, she’s in a bit of a mood today.”

“Then how about a hair from her golden head.”

“Don’t you mean a golden hair from her head?”

“Yes.” The elf in drag went to a leather-bound box by the jetty and opened it with an elven key which is different from an ordinary key because of the word ‘elven’ in front of it. From the box he pulled a strand of the most golden hair that Gimli had ever seen. The elf looked at the label on the box.

“Oh you’re in luck. These are on special offer today. You can have three!”

[Elven Daughter]

That's HILARIOUS!!!!!! hehehe roflmao :jester:

[Little Devil]

:jester: lol

[Lalaith]

Brilliant - still writing to an incredibly high standard!
Beautiful! roflmao roflmao roflmao

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 11 – “Past the Argonath and Down the Anduin. Amon Hen is Second on the Right.”


The fellowship left the shores and travelled down the River Anduin. Sam was narked because Frodo had chosen to go with Aragorn. Legolas was narked because Gimli had jumped into his canoe instead of Aragorn and Aragorn was naked because I had forgotten to include the letter ‘r’ in his part of the sentence. This made Legolas even more envious that Aragorn was not in his boat. In fact, the only one who was happy was Gimli who had the three locks of Galadriel’s hair and was crouched between Legolas’s legs pretending to row. Merry and Pippin were not fussed either way.

The Anduin meandered alot and the journey towards wherever it was they were going seemed to take forever. It struck Frodo, and most of the rest of the group, that, as they didn’t know where they were going, they would not actually know when they got there but they kept rowing none-the-less. They would be shown the way when the time was right.

“Hey look at that!” Merry and Pippin cried.

“What is that Aragorn?” asked Frodo.

“They are the Argonath, the great kings of old. Long have I wished to look upon my ancestors.”

“Well you’ve been a ranger for over 15 years now. What took you so long?”

“I’ve been busy, alright?”

“With what? It’s not as if there is much that a ranger actually does is it?”

“I’ve been busy with some girl called Arwen according to my script.”

“Who?”

“Apparently she’s the elf-maiden who hitched a ride when we flew to Rivendell. I had been wondering who she was supposed to be. Our scene at Rivendell had to be cut because the author thought it was too smoochy and not worth the bother. Anyway, as I was saying, they were the kings of old, Isildur and Anarion.”

“They put a statue up to Isildur? But he caused the fall of the race of men and Gondor. You’d think they’d want to forget him. No offence.” The slap Frodo got across the ear told him that offence had been taken, even if none was meant, which in itself was quite doubtful.

Just then Legolas sniffed the air.

“Orcs! Something dangerous approaches!” Gimli looked sheepish and tried to pretend that he hadn’t farted. The smell soon drifted away and Legolas calmed down a bit.


Meanwhile at Isengard, Saruman the Slightly Tarnished was standing next to his full-sized toy Urak-Hai who was apparently staring into space.

“Do you know how the orcs came into being? They were elves once but Sauron….” Saruman had just looked at his watch.

“Bugger, no time for the family history now. You are supposed to be at Amon Hen in 2 hours. You’d better get going. All you need to know is that you’re a cross between an orc and a goblin and you can move about in daylight. Anything else you can just make up as you go along. Speaking of make-up…”

Saruman stuck his hand in some left-over semolena and slapped it on Lurtz’s head. “Go. Do that to your brethren. They won’t thank you for it but at least it’ll get them riled. Well don’t just stand there, get moving!” Lurtz marched out of the door. Nobody cared to point out the big white hand print which stretched across his buttocks.



Meanwhile, back at Amon Hen the fellowship had landed their boats. Boromir went off to collect fire-wood while the rest twiddled their thumbs. Then Frodo slipped away from the group to be on his own. He did not want to let the rest know that the ring was beginning to affect him. He felt thin, sort of stretched like butter spread… Yes well you get the point. Sam must have noticed something by now, but he knew what he must do.

“But I’m afraid to do it!”

“Sorry?”

“Oh. Boromir. Didn’t see you there.”

“As usual!”

“I was just thinking out loud.”

“I know you suffer. I see it day by day. But if you would but lend me the ring but I but would but look but after but it….er…but.

“In English please.”

“Just give me the ring!”

“Yeah ok. You will give it back when you’ve finished with it?”

“Of course.”

“There you go.” Despite what it says in the screenplay, Frodo did actually make the mistake of giving the ring to Boromir. This was due to the power of the ring and the fact that he was a bit thick. Of course, as soon as he was out of the grasp of the ring’s power he realised just what a stupid thing he had done and desperately tried to get the ring back. But Boromir was too tall for him as he held the ring above his head. Apparently, Boromir, whilst being ignored, had likewise ignored everything else around him and failed to pick up the fact that the ring could make him disappear if he would only put it on.

Suddenly, five arrows thudded into Boromir’s chest and he fell to his knees and bled all over Frodo’s cloak. Legolas stepped out from behind a nearby tree and kicked Boromir to make sure he wasn’t getting up, like, ever again.

A whole two minutes after it happened Legolas grimaced in agony as Boromir’s fist collided with his nether-regions. However, shortly after having tried to cop one last feel, Boromir, brother of Faramir and son of the air-steward of Gondor Airlines, died with a line stolen from Dead Poet’s Society. Nobody paid much attention to this bit though so I see no point in printing it here.

“Never liked him much anyway. If anybody asks. It was the orcs.”

“Right you are.” Frodo retrieved the ring. “Where are the others?”

“They’ll be here soon. I’d better go.”

Legolas left the scene and was replaced by Aragorn who was waiting in the wings.

“He tried to take the ring?” Frodo nodded. “You wouldn’t let him?” Frodo shook his head. Aragorn took this to mean ‘No I wouldn’t let him’ and Frodo blurted out, “It was the orcs!”. Aragorn’s eyes widened.

“There are orcs here? Where did they go? And how come your elven sword is not glowing?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the sword started to glow and a group of orcs fortuitously appeared further down the slope. Any questions Aragorn may have had about Boromir’s death were soon extinguished as he stood to meet them. Frodo ran off to the seeing seat at the summit of the hill and sat in it to keep out of harm’s way. Aragorn fought the large band of orcs and, despite the fact that he was outnumbered 300 to 1 (there were after all 300 of them and only1 of him) he seemed to be doing rather well. He was occasionally beaten about the head with what looked like a large metal toothpick and he finally found himself being pushed back and up the stair towards the seat where Frodo sat. Frodo, not wishing to be skewered decided it would be wise to put the ring on. He was wrong.

The usual fog descended and he found that he could see for miles around. He could see the smoke rising around the borders of Lorien, the hoards of orcs running over mountains far away and he beheld the eery stillness of Moria. Then, and most terrible of all, he beheld the Eye of Sauron. A great eye, wreathed in flame and steeped in the blood of all those who had fallen before it. The great eye had returned to haunt the enemies of Sauron. During and since Sauron’s downfall it had been difficult for the eye to get work. It auditioned for the part of the bouncing ball in The Prisoner with Patrick McGooan but was rejected on the basis that if they let him anywhere near Port Meirion there would be very little left by morning. It even tried selling itself to McDonalds as a grill-cooker but was told that the food would be too well cooked and this was not acceptable. After these failed attempts it lowered its standards and tried to run for President of the United States but was told that wanting to destroy the world and demanding loyalty from all living creatures unreservedly were not policies which would endear it to the American people. Oh really? Seems to work for some… I digress (again).

But now it was back playing the only role it could, that of the a great flaming eye at the top the fortress at Bharad-dur in the land of Mordor. It stared at Frodo. Well, what else could it do? It was lid-less. It’s not like it could wink at him now is it? That was not all however. Along with the eye came a voice which was apparently supposed to be a mixture of tongues including some from Mordor, some from Middle-Earth and some which didn’t actually exist. Well I’m sorry but it sounded to me like some bloke putting on a silly voice and saying “I see you, I see you!” Check it out, that’s what it’s saying. Well, whatever it was saying, Frodo didn’t like the voice very much and he decided to take the ring off to shut it up. It worked but Frodo hadn’t realised how close he was standing to the edge of the seat platform which he promptly fell off. He landed right on top the last of the orcs which Aragorn had been fighting.

“We had better make haste Frodo. We are only allowed 10,000 characters per post. We need a condensed ending for the chapter.”

“Right, I think I need protection from you. You don’t really want the ring and you and Legolas and Gimli are going to run after Merry and Pippin who have been kidnapped by the orcs.”

Merry looked puzzled for about half a second. “No we ha….. Arggghhghghg! Help. We’ve been kidnapped by orcs!!”

“See? Right off you go Aragorn, take the rest with you and Sam and I will go to Mordor.”

“Oh no you don’t Mr Frodo. If you’re going to Modor, I’m coming with you.”

“I know Sam. I just said that.”

“Oh, right.”

“Go chuck yourself in the Anduin Sam, I’ll be down in a minute.” Sam disappeared through the trees.

“Right. So. This is it then.” Aragorn picked Frodo up in his arms and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks, then turned him right-way-up, looked him in the eyes and then hugged him till he thought he would burst.

“I quite like breathing.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Farewell.”

“Yes, my friend. Farewell. We shall meet again in Book 3.”

End of Fellowship of the Swings. See you in Book 2.

[Little Devil]

Can't wait for book 2! :whoohoo: very very good! :thumbs: lol

[Lalaith]

Fantastic! Nuff said!

[Bess the Bard]

Laughing my (head) off here. What a wonderfully wicked mind you have. I love it. Please, please continue.

[Little Devil]

:thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

I hope to start on Lord of the Swings , Book Two, The Two Tassels on Monday. Hopefully people will keep reading.

Thanks all.
A.L.L.

[Nala Greenleaf]

Very funny aragorn:lol: by the way did you meet "me" at the gamesworkshop

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

No Nala. I did not come on to this site to arrange meetings. I came here to read and write fanfic and that is what I intend to do.

A.L.L.

[Nala Greenleaf]

OMG this book is so funny lol lol is it possible to ask when book 2 will be out!!!! :notworthy:

[Nala Greenleaf]

Oh the gameswork shop thing i meant for you to meet me and elfdaughter there and i meant the warhammer fourum section coz the people who sell the merchandise are in the gamesorks shop. sorry!!! :blush: :notworthy:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Lord of the Swings

Book Two – The Two Tassels

Chapter 1 – The Pointless Prologue (Boromir’s Funeral Having Been Dealt With In Book One)

The village of Upper Andatum bustled and hustled its way through Middle-Earth. Never in the same place for more than a week, the townspeople wandered about the place forever convinced that they would find their homeland one day. During the early part of the 3rd Age of Middle-Earth some bright spark had suggested that the entire village go to Arnor for its summer holidays. The same bright spark also suggested that the village idiot did the packing and subsequently when the day came on which they were to depart, it turned out that the village idiot had taken the suggestion of taking the whole village far too literally. They were all too excited about getting a holiday to stop and unpack the houses and sheep-pens, so off they all went and it was as though the village had never been there. Thus their problems began.

For when they returned they did not know they had returned, there being nothing left of the village to tell them that they had returned. Every few days they would hear a cry from the village idiot who was, incidentally, leading the way. “I think I can see Old Farmer Dingleberry’s farmhouse from here!” to which Farmer Dingleberry replied that firstly, it was highly likely that everybody could see his farmhouse, what with it being on the back of his trailer and all, and secondly, Old Farmer Dingleberry had died some weeks back and thus he was to be referred to as Young Farmer Dingleberry in future thank you very much. Onward, ever onward they travelled following the stars and ignoring the snide remarks of elves and other less noble creatures as they meandered their way across the harsh terrain. They reminded me very much of the people of Battlestar Gallactica except in that this journey would take slightly longer and they hadn’t a hope in hell of ever getting to where they were going. Actually, given the choice it is probably just as well. I mean can anybody explain to me why anyone with ultra-snazzy ray guns and amazing trans-space transport vehicles would possibly want to land, not only on earth but in mid-80’s America? Well can you?!?! This is the stupidest digression I have ever encountered, much less taken part in. However, I do not beg your pardon Master Elrond, for the camp and kitch tripe that was BSG may yet be repeated in every part of the world and on cable. You have been warned!

We actually join the village on a rather joyous occasion. Today is Flounders Day. The 2500th anniversary of the departure from the home-land and the 20th anniversary of the day that they realised that they had been going round in circles. The villagers celebrated this great day by sacrificing the village idiot on the Altar of Stupidity (a new addition to the village furniture crafted by the hands of Old Farmer Dingleberry….

“Oy!”

Sorry. Young Farmer Dingleberry, shortly after the loss of the homeland.

This would then be followed by a great feast after which the appointment of that year’s new village idiot would be made. Due to the fact that this was not a popular job and thus much fighting ensued as a result, the villagers tended to stay put for a couple of days until it was sorted out. As the preparations for the feast got underway, market stalls appeared along the temporary main street and among the market sellers we can see familiar faces. It is Legolas and Gimli. And they are selling stuff they nicked from a hardware store in Moria.

“Four pieces of elven rope only 2 gold coins! To you madam, just half a gold coin! Come now sir, elven rope of the finest quality. Do I hear a quarter of a gold coin?”

“Get stuffed!”

“Well I heard that.”

“Look Legolas! Just stop with your shenanigans!” Gimli looked into the loose change box. The change was about as loose as you could ask for. “Accepting all of these quarter-coins and eighth-coins? For buggery’s sake they don’t even look like coins anymore. They’re just gold dandruff!”

“You know Gimli, I’m beginning to regret getting this summer job with you! You’re always complaining about something. The only time you don’t issue turds of wisdom is when you’re pinching my buttocks. Now what’s all that about?!?” Gimli looked a little sheepish and decided to keep quiet for once. “Still,” Legolas continued. “I suppose we needed something to do in-between books. I would have gone after Aragorn (sighs – he’s dreamy) but he… he… well let’s just say, he refused my advances.”

“You mean he slapped you.”

“Yes.”

Just then a kid with a small tin trumpet ran by heralding the end of the feast and the imminent announcement of the new village idiot.

“I feel sorry for the poor bugger who gets that job.” Gimli watched the villagers wetting themselves all around him.

“I’d do it if it meant I didn’t have to work with you anymore!” Legolas yelled.

Everything stopped around them. Not a sound or a movement. They all just stared at Legolas. Then suddenly all the villagers at once grabbed Legolas (even Gimli grabbed him but that was just opportunism) and dragged him towards the village hall. This took slightly longer than it should have because the village hall had not been deposited in the same place as last time (the plan for the original village having been left in the hotel in which they spent their fateful holiday 2500 years ago to the day). However, they found it eventually and dragged him inside. The mayor and the rest of the village elders looked up to see what the commotion was.

“What’s going on here?” the mayor demanded.

“This one says he’ll do the job!” The mayor stared in disbelief for about the same length of time as the villagers had when Legolas had first said it.

“Say that again.”

“This one says he’ll do the job!”

“Now we are talking about the same job here. The job of village idiot?” The villagers nodded profusely. “He doesn’t look much like an idiot.”

Gimli stepped forward. “Oh I can vouch for him. He’s your man!”

“Very well then. Elsie, just mop the remains of the last idiot off the altar and we’ll get underway with the ceremony.”

“Now just hang on a minute…” Legolas registered his complaint with the village clerk and was then dragged (again) to the foot of the altar steps. Then there was a quick ceremony which essentially involved the mayor standing over him and saying “Right then, you’re the village idiot” and then telling him to stand up and lead them to the next site for the village.

“Wait! What do you mean ‘mop up the last one’?!?! Help Gimli. I think there’s been a terrible mistake!”

“But you said…”

“Never mind that now. Get me out of here!” Legolas cried as he was carried out of the hall on the shoulders of people whom Legolas thought to be far better qualified for the job than he.

Just as they left the village hall and were about to go and pack the villagers noticed a man with a hooded face and a hooded head standing with his back to them looking at Legolas’s stall. He turned and said “Release the elf.” The calm threatening nature of his voice caused a shiver to run down the spine of each of the villagers in turn in a sort of Mexican wave of terror. One stupid but brave villager (the one everyone else thought should have got the job of idiot) stepped forward.

“Why should we?” he asked, even then with a slight quaver in his voice. “Who are you that we should bow to your wishes?” The stranger appeared unimpressed. The villagers were just impressed that the young lad had been able to string a whole sentence together.

“I will show you!” cried the stranger and proceeded to whip off his pants.

Half the women in the village fainted (the other half were searching for their cameras) and all of the men started to feel very inadequate. The stranger looked down at his naked lower half and cursed himself for forgetting to put his ‘I’m-next-in-line-for-the-throne’ boxer shorts on again.

“Aragorn!” cried Legolas who ran up to the stranger (who technically is not a stranger now that we know who he is) and hugged him around the waist.

“I think we should leave, quickly.” Aragorn had noticed that the villagers, after the initial shock of having a streaker in the village, had realised that they were about to lose their newly appointed village idiot and were advancing upon the three of them with menacing looks in their eyes.

“I think you’re right,” hissed Gimli. Legolas agreed and so the man, the elf and the dwarf bowed low to the villagers, said a quick prayer and then scarpered.

“Let’s go hunt some orc!”

“I believe you said that last time!” said Legolas as he vanished over the brow of the hill and into the sunset.

[Lalaith]

just when you think you can't laugh any more...
Wonderful!!
LOVE the Battlestar Gallactica reference - brings me back to my childhood, that does!
Getting a bit of a Douglas Adams feel - which cannot be bad!
Great stuff A.L.L!

[Nala Greenleaf]

Very funny lol lol still Very unique!!! lol lol

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Ah yes. good ol' Doug. A sad loss to the world when he went. I loved his books when I was younger. I should read them again. Cracking stuff.

Thanks for the feedback Lalaith. Hope I can keep all my ideas in my head long enough to get them all down. ;)

A.L.L.

Originally posted by Lalaith
just when you think you can't laugh any more...
Wonderful!!
LOVE the Battlestar Gallactica reference - brings me back to my childhood, that does!
Getting a bit of a Douglas Adams feel - which cannot be bad!
Great stuff A.L.L!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Originally posted by Nala Greenleaf
Very funny lol lol still Very unique!!! lol lol

Thanks Nala.

Glad you like it. I think, with all the things going around in my head, this book could be better than the last. If not, it's sure as heIl going to be longer! :)

A.L.L.

[Nessa]

I just found this and read the whole thing, it terrific! lol Just out of curiosity, are you not fond of Frodo? I won't get hyper-defensive or anything, I promise.......

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Oh Nessa, I luuurrrve Frodo. I mean who couldn't. Elijah has got to be one of the cutest things on the planet. I also like Boromir but in my skit I didn't want to make any of the characters too cute and likeable.

Imagine how bad I would feel taking the preverbial out of someone who makes me want to get frisky and cuddle them all day and all night. i just couldn't bring myself to do it.

Glad you like it though.

Not like Frodo? I don't know:rolleyes:

:thumbs: ;)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 2 – “How to Tell the Difference Between and Orc and a Hobbit” (includes Legolas’s hit single –“I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No”)

“I’m just a girl who can’t say n….”

“Shut up Leggie. The orcs are getting away!”

“You may not have noticed but the orcs started running before the summer when we were in our between-books phase. If we can see the dust at their heals they must be bloody slow runners.”

“Use your elf-eyes.”

“Why? You can see them from here.”

“Fine! Let’s just keep running then.”

And so they did. Well, Legolas and Aragorn ran. Gimli sort of skipped between the moss-mounds. They were heading into the plains in Rohan (as opposed to the Aeroplanes of Gondor) and the ground was getting rather boggy. Why the peoples of Rohan, horse-breeders almost to a man, had inhabited the least horse-friendly part of Middle-Earth, no-one is yet sure. However, having chosen their spot, they were stuck there with Gondor on one side and a load of elves in pink frocks guarding the other borders with menaces. Aragorn looked at his watch and told Gimli to hurry up. The orcs would probably speed up as it was all downhill to Isengard.

“Dwarves were not made for running!”

“What exactly were dwarves made for?”

“Mining and weapons-craft!”

“So when we win the war against Sauron, the last great evil in Middle-Earth and, now that the mines are to be over-run with balrogs and other such creepy things… What will you do then?”

“We will take the parts of midgets in films.”

“Not much of a living though is it?” Gimli held his tongue and Aragorn, who was getting impatient, kicked Gimli and Legolas in order to get them moving.

Just as they came over the crest of the hill they heard music. They rounded a corner and came upon a scene which wasn’t in the original book. There before them was a merry-go-round with plastic horses on poles. It was floating on what looked like a cushion of air, much like a hovercraft but looking slightly more precarious and more than a little rediculous. A band of orcs was circling. Each horse on the ride was decorated with silver and gold leaf in dazzlingly childish designs all topped off with a rider flailing a sword.

“Formations!” cried the rider who seemed to be the leader (his helmet had a big sign on it saying ‘Big Cheese’) as he swung his sword out to try to catch the orcs before they got too close. The orcs ran and hid behind the nearest rock to work out an alternative plan of attack. Meanwhile the riders dismounted and huddled in the inner sanctum of the ride. “We have to get this bugger back on.” The rest of the band agreed and they looked out to check that there were no more orcs. They noticed the three travellers.

“Hey you! Yes you! Could you do us a favour? Just flick that switch on that rock there.” Aragorn looked down and saw a lever in the side of a boulder. He pressed it down and the music got louder. The ride juddered and then, little by little, it crawled into action, spinning faster and faster. The horses began to rise and fall in alternate formation and the riders left their positions at the centre and remounted their plastic steeds. There were a few gaps in the formation and the riders gestured for the three companions to join them in the fight. Aragorn was the first to stride forward (his former name having been Strider) and he was followed closely by Legolas who tried to get on the back of Aragorn’s horse but was told that he had to get his own. Gimli then waddled up to the ride but the leader of the riders pointed to a sign which said ‘No orcs or species under this height’ and then pointed to a low beam about 4 foot off the ground.

“Gimli rides with Legolas or none of us ride!” Aragorn could not believe that this close to the end of the Third Age, people were still prejudiced against the more diminutive races.

“I am sorry, we already had a band of orcs from yesterday trying to get on the ride with a couple of hobbits. If we let the dwarf on, we have to let everybody on and then where would it end? Rules are rules.” Gimli sulked and went to sit beside the boulder again. Aragorn and Legolas were about to get off the ride in disgust when the orcs attacked again. The ride span ever faster as the orcs approached cautiously. When they were close enough the riders lowered their swords and the leader of the orc-band stared in horror as all of his men were decapitated in a single spin. He stood there looking awkward for a while before Gimli took his axe from his bag and gave him a gruesome centre parting.

“Your bravery, my friend, has earned you a go on the ride.” Gimli climbed up and jumped onto Legolas’s steed. After he had snuggled in behind him Aragorn suddenly realised that the riders had mentioned a couple of hobbits travelling with orcs.

“Where did you see the hobbits?”

“Oh, about two miles from here, last night. None were left alive after one of the orcs accidentally turned on the ride and we made orc-julienne out of them.”

“And the hobbits?”

“You can check the pile of body parts we left burning at the bottom of the hill. It is possible that they escaped because we can only reach down to about here. They were not big enough to get on you see.”

“If you have killed our friends then you will pay for it with your life.” Aragorn gave the leader an angry glare. “What is your name? The narrator cannot keep calling you the leader!”

“I am Eomer, servant to King Theoden and am a main character in this story. You may regret killing me when we get to the part at Helm’s deep. This is my captain, Fomer, his lieutenant, Gomer, my third in command, Homer. Oh and that’s Jomer. Iomer got killed while you were at Lothlorien and besides, it was getting confusing what with him pronouncing his name the same as mine. This one over here is Komer (he’s a bit lethargic) and that’s Lom….”

“Look we don’t have time to go giving names to all of these extras! It’s not like their getting paid to have names. We’re off to see if we can find our friends.”

“We’ll give you a lift if you like.” The ride rose off the ground on its cushion of air and headed off down the hill.

“What’s with the hovercraft then?” Aragorn was curious.

“Well, the ground’s a bit lumpy for our real horses so we had them stuffed and mounted on these contraptions. Unfortunately, our taxidermists are not as skilled as our horse-breeders and the horses began to smell after a while. So we invented plastic and made them out of that instead. Much better don’t you think?” Just then the ride jerked to a halt. The riders did not. They ended up in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Ok! Who forgot to unplug the ride?” Eomer was furious. “Come on! Who’s in charge of plug duty today?” None of the riders spoke. “Well?!?!?!”. One of the riders on the bottom of the pile, thinking he was safe because no-one could see who he was, shouted “That would be you!” and Eomer blushed a little before climbing back up the hillside to unplug the ride-charger from its socket. He returned and quickly averted an embarrassing situation by stabbing the one who had shouted from the bottom of the pile, the rest of the lily-livered bunch having pointed him out. Then they got underway.

At the bottom of the hill Eomer applied the breaks and the ride span slowly to a stand-still. A guy at the back rang a bell and cried “Fangooorrrrrrn! Everyone off please!” They all dismounted, or in the case of Gimli, fell off the ride. The three friends gaped in horror. Dismembered bodies lay in a huge pyre, smouldering away. Beside the fire (which thought that being called a ‘pyre’ was a tad pretentious) was a small cloak and a leaf-buckle. It was Pippin’s. Well, it could have been Merry’s but take it from me, it was definitely Pippins. I think. Anyway.

Aragorn, inexplicably began getting flashbacks of the battle that had ensued there and followed a trail that wasn’t actually there up towards the woods. After a few steps he found two hobbit waist-coats and a belt. A few steps further revealed another belt and a pair of hobbit sized boxer-shorts. Shortly after this the group came across a pair of hobbit sized trousers and some socks. Legolas had a look on his face that made it look like he thought they might be dead. In fact he was in awe of the fact that the hobbits had managed to get their boxer shorts off BEFORE their trousers. This was a trick he was going to have to ask the hobbits about when they found them, if they weren’t dead that is.

“They have entered the woods.” Aragorn had found a hobbit-sized bra on the branch of a tree.

“Fangorn!” Gimli made it sound as though he had been there before although the whole group knew that he hadn’t and he was just trying to sound wise and well travelled. “Supposed to be haunted isn’t it?”

“Gimli, do you have a problem with trees or something? You say something like that every time we go into a forest or a wood. Did you fall out of a tree when you were a child?”

“Trees don’t like dwarves. We have a habit of cutting them down and selling the wood to other races. Not fair really. The trees don’t hate the rest of you for using the wood we sell. We get the blame for it! It’s not right I tell you! Not right at….”

“Gimli, I’m getting the impression that this is one of those pointless bits of speech which Peter Jackson will cut out for being superfluous to the story. Kindly stop it and keep to your script.”

“Sorry.”

“Well lads. Look like we’re going in.” The riders decided they didn’t want to so left a couple of portable merry-go-rounds for the group to use and span off to look for more species to kill indiscriminately. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli crept into the forest and realised they had forgotten to bring a torch.

[Bess the Bard]

Hilarious!! I love it. You are keeping the humor fresh, not easy to do over the long haul. And still telling the story, moving the action forward in the midst of the joke. Again, not easy. But that's where talent comes in. So keep it up.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks Bess. Actually, new chapter came on line just as you posted your message. Enjoy!

[Little Devil]

roflmao, I'd love to see this published! so funny. lol

[Nessa]

Originally posted by Aragorn's Latest Lay

Legolas had a look on his face that made it look like he thought they might be dead. In fact he was in awe of the fact that the hobbits had managed to get their boxer shorts off BEFORE their trousers. This was a trick he was going to have to ask the hobbits about when they found them, if they weren’t dead that is.


roflmao roflmao roflmao

That is far too good! Wonderful, just great.

[Lalaith]

Wonderfully funny as ever - well done at keeping up such a high standard of comedy!
Gotta love the Big Cheese - almost broke myself laughing at This one over here is Komer (he’s a bit lethargic)
Beautiful!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

I'm so glad to see people are still enjoying this.

Thanks guys! :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 3 – “The Night Before the Morning After the…Yes. Well. You Get the Point…(Oh Yes and a Bit About Treebeard).”


“Pippin!” Merry hissed. “Wake up!” The hobbits lay still. Not difficult given that there was an orc sitting on top of them. The rest of the orcs were sitting by the camp-fire singing Kum-ba-yah and eating jellied eels. “I’ve got a plan.” Merry began to talk over my commentary so I made the orc jump up and down a bit to keep him quiet for now. “Auughgh!” That’s better.

“Cor blimey guv’nar! I’m sick of these bleedin’ eels. When do we get sum mayn flesh?”

“In English please?”

“I want meat!”

“Yeah me too!”

“Yeah it’s been ages since I had a shag!”

“To eat, you fool!”

“Oh.” The rest of the orcs tutted and made noises to suggest that Saruman made a mistake with his first batch of orcs by crossing goblins with Lothlorien elves. This orc’s obsession with man-flesh and frilly pink knickers was getting beyond a joke.

“We need meat! We need meat!” The chant went on much the same (orcs don’t make the most inventive of lyricists) for about ten minutes at which point all but ten of them slaughtered each other to get to the hobbits first. The ten remaining sat down again and stared at the hobbits. They weren’t particularly interested in eating Merry and Pippin as they were all first-batch orcs and more interested in having a good time. One of them produced a ghetto-blaster and a tape of “You Can’t Stop the Music!” (CD’s would not be invented for another few millenia) and they got up and started dancing. The orc who had made a fool of himself earlier motioned to Merry and Pippin to join them. The hobbits cautiously got to their feet.

“My name’s Grappler Grishnakh (GiGi to his friends). Which of you has it then?”

“Has what?”

“Don’t play games with me little hobbit. I know what you’ve got hidden under your cloak.” Merry saw this as the ideal opportunity to put his plan from earlier into action. He whipped off his cloak and cast it to the ground with its buckle.

“Why don’t you take a look?” Merry began to dance seductively and took a few steps back opening the buttons of his waistcoat. “Come on Pippin, just do what I do,” he whispered through his teeth. Pippin unbuttoned his waistcoat too and they both danced. GiGi got impatient with the tantalising striptease and lurched forward, ripping Pippin’s boxer shorts out from under his trousers. Pippin, who was not exactly enamoured of this plan to begin with, howled in pain. In the mean time GiGi had whipped off Merry’s trousers and was about to steal his boxers too when a horn sounded from the darkness. A band of riders flew into the camp on a hovering merry-go-round and one of them got off to plug the ride in. One of the orcs tried to stop him by throwing a club at him but this only had the effect of hitting the switch and turning the machine on. Almost instantly all of the orcs around the campfire went to pieces and then their bodies followed suit. The ghetto-blaster was ripped to shreds and GiGi turned to see what was going on. Pippin took this opportunity to dash into the forest. Merry tried to do the same but GiGi dived after him, grabbing him by his socks which came off and he crawled away as quickly as he could. Despite the fact that GiGi then got a few arrows in the back he managed to run after the hobbits and also vanished into the forest. Quite how the hobbit-sized bra managed to find its way onto the branch at Fangorn has never been explained. Suffice it to say that both Merry and Pippin deny all knowledge.

Inside the forest the trees were talking to each other. A couple of weeping willows who were playing a game of snap with a young sapling who kept winning, turned to stare at the invaders. A silver-birch stopped playing a piano in the corner of the clearing and a buxom blonde oak stopped trying to sell her favours to an elderly sycamore and they all turned to stare in much the same way as the willows had.

“Hoooooooooooom! Little Orcs!”

“Sorry?”

“Hoooooooooooom! Little Orcs! What are you? Deaf?”

“Which one said that?” whispered Pippin, looking around.

“Hoooooooooooom! It was me. Hey. Down here!” The hobbits looked down and saw a small cactus-plant trying to crawl up Merry’s leg.

“Geroff!” The pot-plant fell to the ground and Merry sat down to pull the needles out of his leg.

“I’m Treebeard! Are you orcs? Cor! I’ve never seen orcs before!”

“Then how could you possibly think we were orcs if you’ve never seen one?”

“Good point. Anyway, are you orcs?”

“No, we’re hobbits.”

“Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t. Hooooooooooom!”

“Why do you keep going ‘Hooooooooooom?’”

“Oh, it’s all the rage this year. All the big trees are doing it.”

“But you’re a pot-plant.”

“A cactus if you don’t mind. Anyway, don’t tell the others, they think I’m just a very small tree. My real name’s Colin.”

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

“Oh yes, thanks. Hooooooooooooooooooooom!” Treebeard/Colin did an extra-long ‘Hooooooooom! To make up for the one he had forgotten about and led the hobbits over to a quiet part of the clearing. The snap-game and the piano started up again and the hobbits sat down at a table. Treebeard ordered himself some Miracle-Grow which Merry and Pippin declined and then asked them what they were doing in his neck of the woods. Just then GiGi crawled into the clearing wailing something about man-flesh and was promptly trodden on by a Dutch-Elm.

“Thanks!” said Pippin.

“Geen dank,” replied the tree.

“We are here on a quest to destroy the forces of darkness and uphold the right of every man, elf and hobbit to live in Mid…..”

“Well, strictly speaking the elves won’t be here for much longer and hobbits will vanish into obscurity if we win but we are on the side of good. What side are you on?”

“We’re not on any side. Not our war you see.”

“But this affects us all! Every free creature of Middle-Earth will be brought under the power of darkness if Sauron wins!”

“Well, you just said that these creatures will perish if the race of men win. Surely it is better to live in slavery than to win the war and die anyway.” The hobbits thought that the little cactus may have a point but decided against telling him.

“Yes but you will be mute if you lose. What fun is that? You can talk now. All these trees will be silent unto the end of the earth if we fail. How will you have a good time then?”

“None of the real trees can talk actually. We are Ents. Shepherds of the forest. We don’t herd the trees these days because there aren’t enough of us left. We just hang around in Ent-bars drinking fertiliser. I can ask the rest of them if you like but I bet they won’t do it.” Merry and Pippin asked him to try.

After a couple of hours Treebeard returned. “Do you want crisps?”

The hobbits asked if he had persuaded any of the Ents to fight. They were staggered to find that it had only just been decided what flavour crisps to get. “Just get on with it!!!!!” they cried in unison. “And we’ll have salt and vinegar please!!!”

As the Ents were going to take some time over this it was generally agreed that we should come back to this part of the story when something actually happens. The narrator therefore requests the pleasure of your company at another part of the forest where Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli have stumbled upon another clearing. In it was a large rock with a statue of a wizard on it. They approached and looked at the plaque on the base of the statue. “Saruman the White of Orthanc/Isengard/Whatever You Want To Call It.”

“I wonder who it’s supposed to be,” said Gimli shortly before being smacked on the back of the head.

Suddenly the statue moved. A great light spread forth from the face and with a puff of smoke and a little fairy dust the statue turned into Gandalf the White (who had changed his mind about appearing in this production since the first chapter of the first book and had taken the very large cheque which had been offered to him).

“Gandalf! Is it really you? How is this possible?”

“Well it certainly wasn’t thanks to you, you cowardly little orc-fondler. You left me at Kabbaboom to die! If it weren’t for the fact that I am under strict orders to return you to the throne, you would not live to regret that!”

“Forgive me Gandalf, I thought you were a gonner.”

“I would have been. Let me tell you what happened. I fell for a very long time furiously battling the balrog as we both fell into the deepest darkest pits of Moria. We ended up in an underground lake and then we fought again. The lake was a bit cold so we got out and he chased me up a mountain where we fought again and I cast the flame of Udun against the cliffs. Then my mortal body died.”

“Your wounds were too severe.”

“Pneumonia actually. It was bloody cold up there without the balrog to keep me warm. Anyway. My spirit returned to Valinor where the elves gave me a new body-kit with white hair and a bigger staff and chucked me back to sort the lot of you out. Unfortunately I was told that I could not reek my revenge on you until you were back on the throne. Until then, however, you will call me Gandalf the White and I return to you now at the turn of the tide. At least, that’s what I was told. Quite how the tide has turned is beyond me when we are all about to get our head’s kicked in at Helm’s Deep but never mind. I’ll see what I can do to put a stop to that. Right. Now that we are all here, let’s go to the field and find Shadowfax.”

“Shadowfax?”

“Oh he’s just a horse I nicked from King Theoden. Well come on then. Let’s get this over with.”

And off they rode to The Golden Hall of Edoras to give Theoden his horse back.

[Lalaith]

Treebeard the Cactus! Inspired! Orcs singing Kum - ba -yah!! And they're cockney too! Lovely!!
roflmao roflmao roflmao roflmao roflmao roflmao roflmao roflmao( I could go on... but I won't!) :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 4 – “Staff Wanted : Apply Within”


Right, so, whereabouts in the story are we? Well, Sam and Frodo are on their way to Mordor (fear not we will get to them shortly), Merry and Pippin are talking to a cactus (always said there was something funny about those two) and Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli are riding nice horses in the direction of the Golden Halls of Edoras (look I know we’re only 4 chapters in but some people may need to be reminded that’s all). Actually, the latter part of my summary is not entirely true. Gandalf was indeed riding a nice horse in the direction of the Golden Halls of Edoras. The rest however had to make do with the individual merry-go-rounds that the Riders of Rohan had left for them. They would have been quite comfortable but for a couple of minor problems. Firstly, the horses were the real stuffed ones that the Rohirrim had decided not to use because they ponged so badly. The three of them could see their point. The second problem was that, with the rides having only one horse each, instead of going gently up and down in a wide circle, the horses tended to just go up and down and spin on the spot. The effect was rather like that of a bronco ride and this was not to everybody’s tastes.

“Somebody call the Steward of Gondor Airlines! Tell him to bring sick-bags!!!!” called Aragorn.

“Gondor has no sick-bags! Gondor needs no sick-bags!” cried Boromir.

“Boromir? You’re dead.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist,” Boromir laughed as he scarpered and had a coffee in the ‘cast and crew’ cafeteria until he was needed for post-production work.

Legolas, being an elf, was unaffected by the constant up and down motions. He was feeling a little uncomfortable however, because Gimli had chickened out of riding his own horse and had chosen to ride with Legolas. Cowardice, naturally, was not his only motive as it meant he got to hold onto Leggie’s waist as well but at this moment in time, groping was the last thing on Gimli’s mind. He was retching quite badly so Legolas made him ride at the front of the saddle so that he would be sick on the stuffed horse’s head instead.

“Can’t we turn these blasted things off?” cried Legolas, giving Gimli a worried look.

“Sorry Legolas,” Aragorn called in reply. “These individual ones run on internal batteries and I don’t know where the switch is!”

“Don’t be a bunch of wusses!” Gandalf had brought Shadowfax to a halt at the summit of the ridge. “For beholden unto your eyes is the Golden Hall of Edoras! Let us now ride to the gates and seek audience with King Theoden!”

“Well it would have been a bit of a wasted journey if we just sat here and stared at the bloody place! I think I shall walk the rest of the way.” Gimli dismounted, stroking Legolas’s Lincoln Greens as he did so.

They approached the gate, rather more slowly than Gandalf would have liked but less vomitously than the previous 50 miles had been. Some tart was standing on a platform high above drying her dress in the wind. Someone call Wormtongue had drooled on her and she wanted to be dry for her newly arrived guests. It was Eowyn, sister of Eomer. With her were her Ladies in Waiting, Gowyn(daughter of Bitofagoer), Howyn (bit of a slapper that one), Towyn and Mowyn (the Royal Gardner’s daughter). She saw Aragorn and went into a fit of ecstacy. Legolas noticed this and went into a fit of jealousy. Gimli didn’t notice a thing and took the opportunity to unleash his breakfast all over the entrance gate to the village beneath the castle. In an ominous, if slightly corny manner, the Royal Standard of Theoden’s line of kings was ripped off the high walls by the wind which blew it down to land beside the weary travellers. Aragorn saw it and was moved to tears. Gimli saw it and said “Ta very much!” before using it to wipe the excess vomit out of his beard. Gandalf and Aragorn rode past him with a look of abject horror on their faces. Legolas rode past with a look on his face which said “I am an elf and I’m bloody gorgeous!” Gimli was inclined to agree. Much better than that Galadriel bint. It was times like this that Gimli wondered what he ever saw in her when there were elf-men like Leggie around. This was something which Legolas himself also wondered on a regular basis. I appear to be getting somewhat off-track here…

The gates of Edoras had swung open and the flag had fallen and the tart was still waving herself around on the platform above. Gandalf dismounted and hobbled up to the guards of the Golden Hall.

“Give us the staff wizard!”

“You would not deny an old man his walking stick!”

“I am under strict orders! Hand over the staff!” The officer was quite insistent. Gandalf waved the staff high through the air and spoke some elvish to the effect of “Let us in you git!”

“You’re powers are weak old man!”

“Strike me down and I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine.”

“Er…excuse me?”

“Look just let us in will you.”

“Gladly. Once you have handed over your staff.” Gandalf grudgingly handed it over. “Thank you sir. Now if you would just step through this metal detector.” Gandalf walked through the arch.

“If the rest of you could hand over your weapons and follow the old man through the detector we can get you inside.” Aragorn handed over his sword, Legolas dropped his bow, arrow and horse-keys into the little tin beside the entranceway and Gimli stepped forward. He took off his dagger, his axe, his steel-toe-cap boots, his Swiss Army knife, his steel-plated riding briefs and his whale-bone corset with the metal clasps at the back and then stepped through the arch. No sooner had he done so than alarm bells rang from all directions and twenty Rohirrim pounced on the bewildered dwarf. Within seconds he was stripped down and one of the guards was lubing up two fingers of a surgical glove.

“Now just a minute! What’s that for?” He regretted asking.

“He’s clean sir. It was just this.” The guard pointed at Gimli’s Prince Albert and the other guards, realising there was no danger, vanished as quickly as they had arrived. Gimli looked mortified and began to redress himself. Legolas, in a fit of remorse and pity bent over to help him get dressed. He had never seen the dwarf this vulnerable and he found it quite cute in a way. Besides, Gimli was hung like a cart-horse which added somewhat to the appeal. From this moment on, Legolas would look at Gimli in a different light. Given that Aragorn had refused his every advance, this little man now showed great promise. Gimli thanked Legolas and took the opportunity to peck him on the cheek. He was stunned to realise that Legolas showed no signs of resistance. They walked together through the archway hand in hand.

Above the doorway as they went in was a large sign with a picture of a viking giving the thumbs-up under which was written in mystic script ‘Welcome to the Golden Hall of Edoras Marriot! Enjoy your stay and try the beef, it’s excellent!’ The entranceway led to a long, high-ceilinged corridor with suits of armour down one side and a variety of different weapons down the other. Gimli and Legolas looked at each other and nodded, each knowing what the other was thinking. They brushed past one of the weapons-stands and grabbed a sword each. Gimli hid his under his bear while Legolas slipped one into his golden hair.

Gandalf had changed from his white garb into his old Gandalf the Grey costume just to confuse everyone and he marched into the Great Hall with Aragorn by his side. At the end of the long chamber, slumped in the throne, was Theoden, last in the long line of Kings of Rohan (I couldn’t find anyone to play the part of his son so just take it from me, he’s dead and plays no real part in this story anyway).

“Time was, we would get offered a cup of tea in Edoras. Your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired these days Theoden. You’d better be wary and pull your socks up otherwise you may lose the 3 Michelin Stars you used to deserve. Even the Good Food Guide has refused to grant you an entry of late.” From behind the throne crept a dark figure with mascara under his eyes.

“So! Lizardlips!”

“It’s Wormtongue you berk!”

“Sorry. I always get that line wrong. So how long have you been poisoning the King’s mind?”

“About a month now. I must say it is fun. You should try it sometime.”

“Theoden! Harken unto me!”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic! He can’t hear you anyway. Saruman’s taken over his body…I shouldn’t have told you that. Forget I said anything.”

“So! Saruman the wise has abandoned Orcthanc for a couple of months courtesy stay in Theoden’s body! Out! Out! I say!”

“Er… Gandalf?” Wormtongue had a sly grin on his slightly green face. “You don’t have your staff with you. This is having no effect.” Wormtongue began to cackle.

“Gandalf has no staff. Gandalf needs no staff!” Everyone turned to look at the entrance to the hall as Boromir, having delivered his unscripted line, ran out of the door and back to the cafeteria.

“He’s right actually,” said Gandalf as he flung off his grey robes to reveal the white ones underneath. Fortunately, unlike Aragorn, Gandalf had remembered to keep his other robes on at times like these and the whole room was blinded by his robes. “OUT I SAY AGAIN!!!!!” Wormtongue stopped cackling and fled as Theoden was purged of his uninvited guest. Everyone took the opportunity to smack him over the head as he ran past.

“Thanks for that Gandalf.” Theoden had awakened. “So,” he said looking round at his friends. “What took you so long?”

“You were possessed by Saruman but he’s fallen over now so everything should be ok.”

“Marvelous! Cup of tea anyone?”

[Bess the Bard]

Hilarious as alway. I like how Gimli and Legolas' friendship is deepening. Very sweet. :naughty:

Love the metal detector at Edoras. LOL!

[Lalaith]

Inspired stuff, A.L.L!!!
My personal highlight? The Boromir cameos!
Gondor has no sick-bags! Gondor needs no sick-bags

Gandalf has no staff. Gandalf needs no staff

lol

Now bring it on!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks Lalaith.

I quite enjoyed putting the Boromir cameos in too. I think I may add some more at a later stage. I gave him a really rough ride earlier in the fic but I now find i miss him a little.

Of course, he is still dead so we'll have to see. ;)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 5 – “Two Birds, One Aragorn, No Chance of a Threesome”


It took Eowyn another couple of hours to dry out her dress in the breeze. By this time Theoden had finished his first cup of tea, been told about the threat from Orthanc and Bharad-dur and also been hugely angry that Eomer had replaced his world-renowned horses with cheap fairground rides.

“Tell him he’s banished!” he shouted at a guard.

“We’ll need him at Helm’s Deep.” Gandalf was looking pensive. He had become a lot more involved in thought since coming back from Valinor. No-one had yet noticed that the elves had reversed the full-frontal lobotomy to which Gandalf had been subjected the first time around.

“Helm’s Deep?” Theoden looked confused. “What would we be doing in that stinking hell-hole?”

“Well you can’t stay here. We’re expecting wargs and other such nasty beasties any minute.”

“And you let me just sit here drinking cups of tea!!! You could have mentioned something a little sooner! I mean, do you know how long it takes to get a whole village moving. They won’t have time to pack everything now.” It would have become apparent at this stage, to anyone who had known about the reversal of the full-frontal lobotomy, that it had not been entirely successful. “I haven’t even had a chance to bury my son yet!”

“Look! I’ve had a lot on my plate ok!”

“Yeah! At least two of our best buffalo steaks for one thing! What are we going to do now?”

“Well… leave I suppose.”

It took the best part of an hour for the villagers to get word of the move. This was mainly due to the fact that Gandalf had to finish his steak and Aragorn was messing around with swords with the newly-dried Eowyn.

“You’re good with that thing Arwen.”

“How many times?!?!? My name is Eowyn! And I’ll show you how good I am with it if you don’t stop calling me that. That hussy of an elf seems to get all the best blokes around here. I never get any of the action and it’s usually down to her. So are you two an item then?”

“Well we didn’t mention this in the film but I did actually tell her it wouldn’t work out and that she should diminish and go into the west with the rest of her kind. I don’t think she paid any attention though cos she’s down on the cast list for the third book. I still love her I guess but it just wouldn’t work.”

“She gave you that piece of tat round your neck?” Aragorn nodded sadly.

“It is her life-force. Her mortality. Her dying gift to me the night before I told her to get knotted. It is made from the purest of all elem….”

“Actually she got it for £6.99 on QVC.”

“Why that lying little bi…”

“You are not the first to be fooled by her charms. Actually, Eomer’s got one somewhere… I think my father’s page-boy may ha…”

“I can hardly believe mine eyes and ears. That slapper had me hanging on her every word! How could I have been so blind? Even Legolas tried to tell me, but I thought he was just jealous.” Aragorn shook the tears from his eyes and stared around the room. It was becoming apparent to him that those men (and not a small number of women) who wore Arwen’s mark of conquest vastly outnumbered those who did not. Even Gimli was slyly trying to remove his necklace and hide it in his beard before Aragorn or Legolas noticed it. This was all too much for Aragorn for he broke down and wept. He sent out to sit on the dress-drying balcony and stared into the distance.

“Waaaaaaaaarrrrrgs!” he cried. Legolas put his hand on his shoulder and told him not to cry.

“No Legolas. Look! Wargs!!!”

“Oh. Sorry you confused us all by overdoing the a’s in that one.”

“Run!! Gather up your things and run! Leave your grandfather, he’ll be dead in a couple of days anyway! No you can’t take your stereo! Gandalf! Put down that child! Oh sorry Gimli, didn’t recognise you there. Heroes and fellowships. Women and children later! Run for it! What is that box all wrapped up in pretty pink paper?”

“It is a gift!” said Boromir before Aragorn took his head off with his sword to make sure he wouldn’t come back this time. Once all this was out of the way the village made a run for it. Eowyn took the women and children and head out of the gate.

“Hey! I said Heroes and fellowships first!”

“The fellowship was broken at the end of Book1 and as for heroes… well look around. Do YOU see any?”

“To Helm’s Deep!” cried Gandalf.

“Thanks!” said the orc-spy who was sitting listening in on the conversation.

“Dagnamit!” Gandalf kicked himself. Then everyone else gave him a kicking just to be sure.

The village was soon deserted. Apart from the particularly aged grandparents and a couple of stereos, nothing stirred save a vomit stained flag drifting mournfully in the dust.

[Lalaith]

Ah! lovely - but have you really put an end to Boromir??? mecry - nah, just kidding!
Still enjoying it - keep it up! I just don't know how you manage to keep it so consistently funny notworthy

:thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Gondor has no end. Gondor needs no end.

Fear not Lalaith, I have a feeling we have not seen the last of Boromir, in one form or another (cryptic hint).

A.L.L.

[Lalaith]

:hooray: Good news indeed!! lol

[Little Devil]

Yay! Am very happy. :thumbs: ;) :horray:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 6 - "The Taming of Smeagol - or - We're In This Tale Too You Know!"


A stifling wind coursed through the valley. On an escarpment near the summit of the ridge, a solitary mountain ash kept its eternal watch over the deathly silence for even the breeze dared not disturb it. It was high afternoon but light had long since left this accursed place. Far off, beyond all hearing, the lands of Middle-Earth cried out in fear of its approaching doom. The ash was withered and gray but throughout its long life it had rested there. A last shadow of the living, blossoming beauty of a Beleriand long forgotten. Sauron would care not for the life a mere tree. Its message of hope to all those unfortunate beings whose journey brought them so near to Mordor was forever lost on one whose soul was blinded by a hidden darkness. And so the tree remained, never changing, never growing, always watching. A guardian to all those who longed for freedom and a heartening sight to those who would one day achieve it.

"Look Mr Frodo! I've got firewood!" Sam stood on the rocky outcrop with the remains of a mangled ash tree in his hand. So much for an undying symbol of hope! I thought Hobbits were supposed to share a love of things that grow. It said so in the "Concerning Hobbits" part. Ah well... now it will be a solitary pile of ash on the mountainside. Though I must say, its symbolism may be tarnished somewhat. But time grows short, much like the stump of the tree, and we have much to do. Enough wittering.

"Great Sam. Let us get a fire going. I feel weary and in need of rest." Frodo stumbled against the side of the rocks lay breathless for a moment or two.

"Mr Frodo? Frodo?"

"It's the ring Sam. It's getting heavier."

"Do you want me ter carry it fer a while? You need a rest from it."

"Yeah. Alright."

Sam took the ring and hung it around his neck. “It’s not that heavy you wuss! Come on let’s get some sausages out of my back-pack.” Sam leant over to get the sausages and the ring dangled for a few moments into the newly-lit fire. “Mr Frodo! Look! The ring’s all a-glowin’!”

“Yeah I know. I dropped into my pop-tarts at Rivendell and all this glowing writing appeared all over it. It said – ‘Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul’ but I asked Gandalf and he said it just meant “Made in Taiwan”.

“I think he may have been lying.”

“No big surprises there. Good job he’s dead really.” Just then Gandalf appeared in a spray of fairy-dust and glared at Frodo. “Just to let you know. I’m very much alive and if I hear any more comments like that from you I’ll drop you in the fire and see if any foul languages spring up on you!” Before the hobbits could open their mouths to speak (either to say ‘thank god you’re alive’ or alternatively ‘where the hell have you been!’) Gandalf had vanished again.

“Well how d’ya like that Mister Frodo? He just turns up and then buggers off again! He’s supposed to be part of the fellowship. He could at least have stayed to help us get into Mordor. How are we going to do that now I ask you?”

“We’ll helps them won’t we preciousssssss!”

“Argghhhhhhhhhhh! Look out Mr Frodo! It’s one of them there CGI villains the director warned us about!”

“It’s ok Sam. It’s just Gollum. He was supposed to be called Colin but that was explained earlier. Gandalf told me that, like everyone else in this story, he has many names and his other one was Smeagol. He found the ring after Isildur dropped it in the shower. He was working in the swimming pool with his brother whom he killed to keep possession of the ring. The ring messed him up something wicked and he fell into shadow. People seem to do that a lot around here.”

Quite how Frodo got all of this plot summary in before Gollum remembered that he was not supposed to be helping them at this stage and attacked them, is not exactly clear. But Sam was caught off-guard and fell backwards. Now, is it just me or was it a tadge overstretching the bounds of plausibility to have Gollum (a thin weedy, weak, ring-torn little scroat) knock Sam (a well fed, quite strong, definitely not weedy hobbit) off his feet without the aid of a cartoon anvil and several hefty cranes? Still, this is how the story goes. I should probably have changed that bit actually. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been particularly faithful to the original story thus far is it really?

By the time I have rambled this far the hobbits had (rather more believably) over-powered the withered creature that was Gollum and were sitting on his chest trying to think of ways to keep him subdued. Sam remembered his elven rope and felt ashamed that he been so ungracious in accepting it in Lothlorien. He tied Gollum around the neck and tied this in turn to the nearest rock.

“No Sam. He can lead us into Mordor. We shall take him with us!”

“Nice Master. Protect the precioussssssss!”

“Sam, why are you talking like that?”

“Beggin’ yer pardon Mr Frodo but I was told that you were nicer to Gollum in this book than you were to me! I thought if I sounded a little like him, you know, all pathetic an’ all, you may take pity on me.”

“Oh Sam.” Frodo looked at him fondly. “No-one could ever be more pathetic than you. Not in my eyes. Gissa hug!” Sam felt loads better and so they got up and went on their way.

“Well Mister Frodo. Can I drag him painfully by the neck for a while, just so as to show him that I’m your favourite really?”

“Well alright. But not too much now. We don’t want to choke him just yet. He may yet have some part to play whether for good or ill.”

“Arrgggg! It burnnssssssssss.”

“Sam! What did I tell you? Not too tight!”

“Don’t look at me Mr Frodo. The little burk just trod in the fire.”


There now follows a sub-chapter to remind the readers and the author that Merry and Pippin are still alive. In fact they are also still waiting for an answer to their question about whether the Ents are willing to fight on the side of good to rid the world of Sauron.

“WELL!!!!!!!!”

“Well what,” said the Ent calmly.

“Will you fight?!??!?!”

“No.”

“Well thanks for that! Why oh why did you have to wait 3 months for that? If it’s going to take this long to gather an army of middle-earthers, we may as well just go home now!”

“Actually Merry, that’s not such a bad idea. We’ve done all we can do. I mean, Frodo’s probably dead already and the rest of them have obviously forgotten about it. I know we bumped into Gandalf a while back but he just seems to be doing statue impersonations these days and I we could both do with a hot shower. Why don’t we go back to the Shire? It’s warmer there.”

“Have you taken leave of your brain Pip? We have to go on. We must help our friends. Where’s your sense of loyalty? Of right and wrong? Besides Pip. If we don’t go on there isn’t going to be any Shire. It’ll be wasteland. No more sleeping with the farmer’s daughters. No more Old Toby (not that your old enough to smoke that yet anyway). No more hobbiton ale. Nothin’. Nada. Not a bean to show for the thousands of years we’ve lived there. If we don’t go on Pip… all hope will die with us.”

“Woah!” said Pippin in awe. “That was a great speech! Who wrote that for you? It’s not in the script.”

“Made it up meself!” said Merry, looking proud and sticking his chest out to make himself look big.

“Oh god!” Treebeard had looked up and seen the edge of the forest. Or rather he hadn’t because the edge of the forest was no longer there. Actually, that’s a rather stupid comment. Of course the edge of the forest was there. It just wasn’t where Treebeard thought it was. If you cut down the edge of a forest, the role of the edge of the forest, by default, is passed on to the trees playing the middle of the forest and the edge of the forest as we knew it gets the sack.

“Hoooooooooooooom!” he said extra-loudly. The rest of the Ents came marching out of the newly appointed edge of the forest and saw the view to Isengard where the orcs were burning the last of the trees. “I knew some of these trees. They were much older than I am. Which buggers did this?” The rest of the Ents gave Treebeard a look as if to say ‘Use yer bleedin’ eyes ya prat!’ and then began the Last March of the Ents towards Isengard.

“You’ve all changed yer tune a bit haven’t you? Oh, it’s ok when it’s just hobbits, men and elves get it in the neck but someone just looks at your bark (which is far worse than your bite by the way) and off you go to war. Double standards that’s what that is!” The Ents turned round and marched right back into the forest in a huff.

“Sorry! Sorry! He didn’t mean it!” Pippin had evidently changed his mind about going home and was turning the Ents round to go and fight again.

“And as for you Peregrine Took!…..”

“Oh shut up and get marching. A girl can change her mind can’t she!?!?”

[Lalaith]

Writing to a very high standard as always, A.L.L!!
- love the 'Made in Taiwan' bit, Merry's improvised speech and the March of the Ents was hilarious!
“I knew some of these trees. They were much older than I am. Which buggers did this?” The rest of the Ents gave Treebeard a look as if to say ‘Use yer bleedin’ eyes ya prat!’ and then began the Last March of the Ents towards Isengard.
:thumbs:

[Aaliyah Baggins]

The Story well it sucked!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Oh well. Can't please all people all of the time.

[Elfdaughter]

Originally posted by Aaliyah Baggins
The Story well it sucked!

Strange, one person out of the loads here thinks it sucks. Well, I would like to see some of your work, Aaliyah, and see if you can write something as funny, witty, and as brilliant as this. Do you know what the name is for people like you? :nono: I'd like to see you try writing, before you start downgrading fantastic stories like this. Well done, A.l.l! entdraught

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Chapter 7 – “Journey to Helm’s Deep” or “Aragorn! Aragorn! Aragorn of the Jungle -Watch Out For That Cliff!”


“Come my Lord! We must maketh haste! Helm’s Deep is our only hope.”

“Bring me my telescope!”

“Not been invented yet sir!”

“Ah. And the compass?”

“Yes, we have that sir!”

“Excellent. You go over to yonder ridge and work out how to use this thing. Eowyn take the women into the dell and boil the kettles. Seems like a nice spot for a cup of tea don’t you think.”

“Erm.. I really think we should get on sir.”

“Nonsense! We wouldn’t have got this far without our cups of tea! Get moving!” The townsfolk scurried about and prepared tables of cakes and biscuits for the afternoon tea ritual. The kettles boiled and the teabags were discarded on the mountainside for goats to choke on. King Theoden sat at the head of one of the larger tables and raised his cup to the heavens.

“For what we are about to receive may Illuvater make us truly grateful.” Everyone agreed, except the young page-boy standing beside Theoden who had just received an arrow in the back.

“Ooh, that’s gotta hurt!” whispered Aragorn.

“Pain? I do not understand the concept.” Legolas was looking at the young page-boy with a look that seemed to say ‘What is this mortality?’ but which actually said ‘Hah, hah! You got shot! Sucker!’

Aragorn smacked him over the head with one of Boromir’s gauntlets which he had nicked after he died and the look on Legolas’s face told those assembled that he was beginning to understand the nature of pain.

“We are under attack! Formations gentlemen please! You there, put down those scones!”

“My Lord you must come with us. We will take you to a vantage point of safety. You may direct the battle from there. House-guards! Escort the King! Someone find Lord Mithrandir. That old fraud may be of some use to us yet!”

“Gandalf has left sir,” cried a guard.

“Left?”

“Yes sir. Just a moment ago.” The Captain looked up to see Shadowfax whisking Gandalf away from danger. “Oy! You there! Get back here you coward!”

“I’ll be back in five days! Look for me in the East on the morning of the fifth day!”

“We’ll all be dead by then!”

“Not my problem really!” Gandalf called. “See you on Tuesday!”

“See you in Hell you yellow bellied son of a orc-shagger!”

Just as the words left his lips the ground began to tremble. The women and children ran off into the valleys and the men were left to fend for themselves.

“It must be the wargs!”

“I don’t think so sir. Warg riders tend to come over the horizon riding wargs sir. These lot are on foot.”

“Orcs?”

“Not them either sir. Not in daylight!”

“Uruk-hai?”

“Nope.”

“Balrogs?”

“Oh please!”

“Well what?!!??!?”

“Looks like a bunch of men, women and children with pitchforks being led by a teenage boy. He looks a right idiot!”

“Oh Illuvatar!” Legolas had turned a funny shade of green, something similar to the colour of his tights. “They’ve found me. I don’t know how but they’ve found me. Run for it Marty!” Legolas jumped into the DeLorian and sped off around the car-park.

“Who’s Marty? And what the hell’s a DeLorian?!?! Car park?!? What the hell?”

The DeLorian sped up the hillside and returned with a smack as Legolas drove it into a pile of rocks. The door opened and Legolas jumped out. He motioned for Aragorn to get in and slammed the door behind him.

“Get out of here Aragorn. I have to go and save Gimli. Just remember to get it up to 88 miles per hour.”

“What are you doing?”

“I going to send you Back…to the Future!”

“Are you nuts?!?” Legolas opened the door, propped a brick (which he just happened to have in his backpack) up against the accelerator and turned the ignition. The car sped away just as the villagers from the travelling village of Upper Andatum streamed into the dell pointing at Legolas and waving their pitch-forks in their fury.

“There he is! Get him!!”

The Royal Guard of Rohan set up defences and, rather than defending, just went ahead and attacked the villagers. Swords swung, arrows flew and half-baked bits of elven weigh-bread smacked into unsuspecting faces in the torrent of violence that followed. People under the age of 12 should have had a parent or other suitable adult present when reading that last bit. I hope they haven’t fainted or anything. Lord Theoden sat upon his horse at the top of the ridge with a cup of tea in his hand.

“By Illuvatar! This is fun isn’t it?” His bodyguard simply rolled his eyes and thought ‘I need a new job. Phew what a loony!’

“Our quarrel is not with you! It is with the elf!” cried the leader of the villagers.

“Who are you?”

“I’m their leader! We request the return of our Village Idiot!”

“So,” said Legolas. “If you have accepted the position of their leader and are guiding them around the countryside…”

“Well I…er… well I suppose I have. Yes?”

“Well does that not mean that you have accepted the post of Village Idiot?”

“What?”

“Well it just seems to me that…”

“Hang on! He’s right!” cried the village mayor. “Er sorry about all this. We never really thought about that. Do excuse us,” he said, bowing and backing away. “We have an initiation ceremony to perform. Elsie, clean up that alter!” The villagers retreated, dragging the newly admitted idiot with them, much to Legolas’s relief.

“Where’s Aragorn,” he said, looking round. Aragorn was stuck in the DeLorian frantically trying to open the door as the car span round in circles. “Turn the wheel Aragorn! Steer it properly!” Aragorn turned the wheel to straighten the car up but he was only used to driving flying Ford Anglias. He wasn’t used to them being on the ground. In fact, he hadn’t even realised that this car could not fly. The rest looked on in horror as the car sped across the rocky dell, faster and faster, reaching a dizzying 88 miles per hour just as it flew over the edge of a nearby cliff and exploded in a fit of lightning.

Nobody spoke. No-one said a word. Tears rolled off the cheeks of many a man for the loss of their beloved Aragorn. Legolas, alone, smiled to himself as he stared at the two tracks of ebbing flame as they dissipated in the evening breeze.

“Fare thee well my friend. Until we meet again.”

[Lalaith]

AH, lovely!! Not content with referring to 'Battlestar Gallactica', you bring in 'Back to the Future' - how the hell do you come up with such ideas??? lol

Kept expecting Biff to appear and call Aragorn 'chicken' etc! Lovely - 'What's the matter McFly...sorry, Aragorn...you chicken?'
Ah - the Delorian!! lol

The thing that amuses me and my friends most in the LOTR films is Legolas' 'Could I BE anymore confused about death?' expression - great to see you refer to it!

And just so you know, some of us are LOVING this story!!! :thumbs: :p :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Much thanking and other such signs of gratitude Lalaith. :)

I just saw Back to the Future 3 again recently and the bit about Aragorn going over the cliff reminded me a little of the bit at the end where the train goes into the canyon. As soon as the thought came into my head it just had to go down. I guess my brain just works in mysterious ways.

I worry about it sometimes. I mean, what am I going to do when I finally get a job I like and have to grow up?!?! I dread to think... But for now, vive l'insanite!

A.L.L.

[Lalaith]

Ah - I know how that happens! When watching LOTR I am frequently reminded of 'Into The West' - sad but true! Anyone else remember that Irish film (sorry, embarrassing Irish film!)???
At the end of 'Fellowship' when Frodo rescues Sam in the water - it's just like 'Tayto! Don't ever leave me!'
And, of course, when Shadowfax appears in TTT - I inexplicably think he's about to introduce the horse as 'Tir na nOg'
Anyhoo - look forward to more of this fabulous story!

[Bess the Bard]

A.L.L.--Hilarious as always!! I envy this kind of demented cleverness you come up with.

Reminds of the MAD magazine writing I loved as a kid. And yours is at least as good as the Dave Berry spoof that ran in papers around here recently. Did you catch it?

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Sorry Bess. Must have missed that. Dave Berry? didn't he sing with the Cruisers?

Can you access the article online or was it just in the press?

[Bess the Bard]

http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/living/columnists/dave_barry/5023564.htm

That's the link. I'm no good at making it active. Very funny stuff but I think you hold your own with it.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

lol I like that. very funny.

[Nala Greenleaf]

AAliya how could you???!! no one insults my friends like that!!! its funny the way you are the only person backward enough to thing this story sucked and insult it badly i would love to see you try and do a story as good as this!!!!!! if you had the wit to but if anything i think your jealous!!!!:angry:

[Elfdaughter]

I've already told her off, Nala! Don't worry, if I catch her slumming again, I'll report her to the mods.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Sorry my faithful friends.

No time for a writing session today. But check back tomorrow for another chapter at Isengard. :thumbs:

A.L.L.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Ok so I changed my mind. I found some time.

Chapter 8 - “Saruman, Saruman, Saruman of Orthanc - Watch Out For That Tree!” (Part 1)

Dispensing with the pretty lame title for a moment, it may have occurred to some of you, as it did me, that the battle for Orthanc and Isengard must have amounted to something more than simply walzting in unannounced and flooding the place. Where’s the honour in that? This is not a criticism Mr Jackson. It is a complement no less. For the flooding of Isengard was a sight to behold. I just don’t think it happened that way. There now follows a more realistic portrail of the end of Saruman’s little orc-factory. The author, having ignored the shouts of ‘Impudence!’ and ‘Think you can do better do you?’ coming from all directions, would like to point out at this stage that what follows is not better than either the book or the film. If anything it will, as a kindly hobbit once said to me, 'suck'! However, my concept of reality, as evidenced by the story I have laid out so far, is vastly different from most other people’s. I hope the Readership of the Swings will allow me, therefore, a little in the way of artisitic (perhaps even a little ‘autistic’) licence as the tale unfolds. I thank you.

Having thus dispensed with the title and continued to prattle on for a whole paragraph by way of a pretentious and rambling introduction (I’m still doing it aren’t I?) we now join Merry and Pippin as they attempt to sit on Treebeard’s branches in the midst of the advancing Ent army.

“Arghh yer bugger!”

“Well what did you expect? I’m a cactus for crying out loud! Not even a very big cactus at that. If anything, I should be trying to sit on your shoulders.”

“Not bloody likely!” Merry was still picking out cactus-spines from the last time that Treebeard had attempted to clamber over any part of his body. Just then a great cry pierced the night. The Night didn’t look too happy about this. Not least because this was supposed to be a daytime scene. The Daytime, meanwhile, had gone AWOL with the Night’s girlfriend, Dawn, leaving him with only his older brother Dusk for company. And let’s face it, he's a bit dull. The marching Ents vanished in the darkness ahead of Merry, Pippin and Treebeard who had much shorter legs than any of them. When they arrived at the outskirts of Isengard they just sat in a circle beyond Saruman’s range of vision and stared up at the great tower at its centre. At it’s very peak flew a black flag on which was emblazoned a symbol.

“Is that the Hand of Saruman on there?” asked Treebeard who’s eye-sight was not the best so he made an educated guess. Unfortunately for him, this is not an educated story and so it was not the hand of Saruman. It was, in fact, the Jolly Roger. A great skull emblazoned (I need a thesaurus, I’ve used that word already...) alright then, plastered (no still not right) how about printed (I suppose that’ll have to do) above a set of crossed bones all nicely finished off with a bow at the top (perhaps not). Within Orthanc’s circular walls, orcs were hard at work burning corpses of trees and running around with cutlasses yelling “ooh arrr me hearties!” and the like. Upon each of their shoulders was a miner bird which had been issued to them by their evil master Saruman, basically because he wanted to find a way to keep the blasted things out of his hair for a while.

“The Ents have decided that they will need to find someone to go in an scout around for a bit to pad out the chapter (it seems the author is finding it more difficult than expected to develop the scene) and as they are a little conspicuous (being walking trees and all) they thought that we three might be able to do a little surveillance.”

“They want us to go in there?!? Are they crazy? They’re far bigger than any of the orcs in there. Why don’t they just march over the wall and squash them all underfoot like in the films.”

“Because the author, sadistic git that he is...”

I heard that!

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

.........

“Exactly. Well anyway he has decided that that is just far too easy and we need to prove our worth in battle and all that. Otherwise when you get to Minas Tirith in the next book you will not have earned your place amongst their loyal warriors. Apparently. Right then, Pippin, Treebeard. Off we go.”

“Hang on a minute. We’re not just going to walk in there?”

“How else can we do it?”

“Two hobbits and a rather diminutive cactus just walking into a heavily guarded orc-filled hell hole without so much as a fake moustache or a styrofoam hump or anything? Actually, come to think of it, do you notice that we went to all of the trouble of escaping from orcs who were trying to carry us to Isengard, only to get on our own two feet and walk here of our own accord! I mean, could he possibly make us feel any MORE like a bloody plot device?!? Come on M....”

Pippin was interrupted in his rant by a large amount of orc dung colliding with first his face and then his tonsils (his mouth still having been open at the time). To add insult to injury, or in this case to add mud to dung, two more splats were heard and both Merry and Treebeard were covered in dung too.

“What?” said the largest of the Ents. Three pairs of eyes glared at him from within the three dungballs that now stood where Merry, Pippin and Treebeard had been. “It’s your disguise. You did say you wanted a disguise didn’t you?” he continued, trying (and failing) to also disguise the fact that he enjoyed chucking a load of kack at the little bunch of whingers. The three dungballs trapsed off through the gates of Orthanc in a huff.

As they approached the base of the tower they heard shouts and they hid behind a pile of dung near the door. The door burst open and out flew two orcs.

“You two clear off. Ah’ve told you before. You’re barred!” The two orcs got up and refreshed themselves by sticking their heads in the steaming pile of dung by the door and then limped drunkenly away, holding each other up as they went. The three dungballs stared up at the door. Above the frame was the old sign of the tower which read “Orthanc” in big red letters. Or rather it had said that. It appeared that, since Saruman had taken to spending all of his time on the only floor of the Orthanc Guesthouse to have a balcony (something the orcs had not been happy about at the time) Saruman had appeased the orcs by allowing them to use the ground floor in their spare time. As a result a couple of enterprising young orcs had climbed up the tower base and re-arranged the letters of the sign so that it read “Orc ‘N’ Hat” and they opened it as Middle-Earth’s first orc-only pub.

The establishment prided itself on the battery-acid-like quality of its beer and the rowdiness of its gentleman’s lounge. They had not managed to acquire any pub-games which suited the orcs’ tastes at this stage but great fun was to be had for the American orcs by telling the European orcs that they were allowed to use the first floor. In America this was perfectly true as they were already sitting on the first floor. However, for the European orcs they assumed that this meant the floor above and the Americans took great delight in watching them climb the stairs to the next level only to be blasted by one of Saruman’s guards causing them to fly backwards into the middle of the pub floor. For those historians amoungst you, it may interest you to know that in this vile entertainment lie the origins of the one-time extremely popular sport of orc-darts. Within days the orcs had progressed to painting a huge darts board on the floor and laying bets as to which part of the circle the unfortunate (if somewhat gullible) orc would fall. In the event of a multiple landing (i.e. the orc arrived in more than the usual number of parts or if two orcs had been duped to go up at the same time) it would be called a draw. In orc terms this means that the winner would be decided when the loser’s head was on a pole by the coat-stand in the corner. Let us hope that this history lesson can now lay to rest the false claims by British orcs that they, in fact, invented the game. Sorry lads. It was the Americans after all.

(Part 2 of this chapter will continue in the next post tomorrow, the author having wasted time and space on dribbling instead of progressing the story to any acceptable degree. Normal service will recommence shortly. Thank you for your patience and I apologise unreservedly for any inconvenience howsoever caused)

[Little Devil]

Loved every word, :thumbs: lol this story so does not suck! It's brilliant, oh well people have their own opinons. ;)

[Nessa]

lol

Quite un-suckish, if I may say so. :thumbs: I think you can be allowed all the 'austistic' liscense you need......

[Bess the Bard]

Nope, don't see a bit of suckliness anywhere in the story. Someone must have had an optical delusion or something.

I love the Orc-dart game. The rules sound suspiciously fluid. There's not a variation called "Tig" is there? :grin:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

May well be, may well be. I shall have to look up my orc-sports rules. Actually the Aussie rules orc-darts are quite like that...

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Sorry. I know I said the next part of the chapter would be up "tomorrow" (i.e. today) but I reall meant tomorrow (i.e. not today but tomorrow as in Saturday). Oh I've had too many pints to write another word tonight.

Goodnight everybody .... (Goodnight Jim Bob!)

A.L.L.

[Little Devil]

Just a question, is Harry and Ron going to be back in the story? I loved the idea of that. ;)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

You obviously have some talent for forethought Little D.

Indeed, Harry and Ron are still at Isengard and have already been written into the second part of this chapter. Their part in the story as a whole has been assured.

A.L.L. :thumbs:

[Elfdaughter]

Cool! (still waiting for my teacher to turn his back away from the printer so I can print the rest of this out! Aaaaagh! Annoying!)

[Lalaith]

Great as ever, A.L.L - sorry for my late reply - (well, later than normal!!) Can't seem to get online so much these days though I am looking forward to more! :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

“Saruman, Saruman, Saruman etc (Part 2)”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.” Merry had become a little uneasy since the lights had gone out in the bar. None of the orcs had left, except the two who had been chucked out, and yet they were making no noise. This went on for about half an hour until the three spies could take it no more. They huddled together to disguise themselves collectively as a small (but none-the-less convincing) pile of poo and waddled their way towards the huge saloon doors that now stretched across the once glorious entrance to the tower. Timidly, they pushed against the doors and slid slowly into the room.

BANG! WEEEEEEEEEEEE! Woooooooohoooooooooo! SNAP, FLASH SIZZLE! The room sprang into life.

“SURPRISE!” yelled about 200 orcs gathered in the now lively bar as the lights came up and a honky-tonk piano struck up a music-hall-type introduction.

“We’re the orcs of Squadron 69
We love to drink and fight!
If no-one dies or at least gets maimed
It’s been a boring night.

There’s one among our number
That far outshines us all.
He’s stocky and butch with muscly arms
Though he’s only 5 foot tall.

His teeth could break the Argonath
His eyes could stare Sauron down.
His breath could fell the prettiest elf.
He’s the sexiest orc in town.

Our Captain! Our Captain.
Blimey, what a man!
We’ll celebrate his birthday
The only way we can! Oy!

Happy Birthday Captain!
Now your twenty two.
It’s all down hill from here you know.
Happpppppyyyy Biiiiiiirrrthdaaaaaay Tooooooooooooooo Yooouuuuuuuuuuuu!”


“Hurrah Hurrah Hurrah!!!!!!!!!!”

“Just a minute... Oh I don’t believe it! Back into positions lads. That’s not the Captain. That’s a small (but none-the-less convincing) pile of poo.”

“Hey dungballs! Get out of the way of the door! Captain’ll be here any minute. Here he comes! Now remember your lines lads. And Ginger?”

“Yes sir?”

“If you’re thinking about mooning this time I’ll have you garrotted with your own g-string. That understood?”

“Yes sir.” Ginger looked disappointed. Everyone else looked somewhat relieved.

“Here we go.... SURPRISE!”

“We’re the orcs of....” silence fell as the Captain raised his hand. He did not look best pleased.

“I’ve just been out to the perimeter. Know what I saw?” 200 orcs shook their heads. The smell from the draft this created caused Treebeard and Merry to pass out. “Trees. At least 15 of them just sitting out there by the wall! How could you miss 15 trees for crying out loud?!? Get out there and have them down!”

“After you’ve opened your present sir.”

“Oh boys! You shouldn’t have!”

“It was Ginger’s idea sir. He thought you’d like something a little lighter this year. Didn’t actually tell us what he got you so we hope you like it. Everyone put money in and....” The orc fell silent and then gasped. The captain had opened the box and pulled from it the present that Ginger had chosen for him. A bright red, lace and satin negligé with matching basque and boob-tube. The orcs around Ginger turned to him and glared.

“All of you...” the captain growled through his teeth. “out. Just get OUT! Cut those trees to the ground and burn their stinking bark in the pits. GOOOOOOOO!” The orcs ran for their lives. Ginger was the only one left standing before the Captain.

“You gonna try it on then?” The captain grabbed Ginger and pulled his face up to his dripping jaws. He then planted a big kiss on Ginger’s lips.

“Thank you darling. It’s wonderful.”

Merry let out a noise like a stifled giggle (actually he was throwing up in the corner). The captain whipped around and stared at the three dungballs.

“What’s this?” he cried.

“Er... just a couple of dungballs sir. I know they’re not allowed on licensed premises an’ all sir but they just turned up and as it was your birthday an’ everything we thought they could just stay. I mean, not doin’ anyone any ‘arm are they sir.”

“Ginger?”

“Yes sir?”

“We do not HAVE any dungballs in this squadron. We are in fact ORCS! I thought you may have noticed. Only the Mordor battalions have dungballs. So WHO ARE THEY?!?!?!?”

“Ah well, you see... actually I don’t know sir.” The captain glowered at the three little balls, with their blinking white eyes and demanded to see some identification papers. Pippin made some attempt to suggest that he was sure he had put them in his pocket earlier that day. This only made the captain more angry. Not because this little dung ball had forgotten to put his identification papers in his pocket. Rather it was because none of Sauron’s minions carried identification papers and dungballs, by their nature of being just balls of dung, did not actually have pockets. These two facts alone were a huge give-away to the fact that these dungballs were not who, or what, they said they were. They realised after a few agonising seconds, in which both the captain and Ginger made a few ominous steps towards them, that they had been rumbled so they split up into three groups of one and darted across the bar.

The captain and Ginger circled the room and gradually backed Merry, Pippin and Treebeard up against the staircase at its centre.

“Come on! We’ll lose them in the tower!” cried Merry as the trio turned and ran up the stairs. The captain bounded up the stairs after them, despite Ginger’s insistent attempts to stop him. No sooner had the captain set foot upon the landing at the top of the stairs than a great blast was heard and the slightly crumpled and more-than-slightly charred remains of the captain landed slap bang in the middle of the floor.

“Oh well,” said Ginger, picking up the only-slightly-singed negligé and replacing it in the box. “At least I can get a refund on this thing.” He walked slowly to the saloon doors and stared out at a now clear sky. A tear rolled its way slowly down his face (slowly because, as far as the tear was concerned, Ginger’s face resembled something in the form of the Himalayas) and he held back a sigh. He looked back at the captain for a moment and the fog of sorrow appeared to lift a little. He searched in the dark for the other orcs who had fled the bar and called out to them...

“Which of you lads had a bet on the bullseye then?”

There was no reply.

----------------------------------------

The undercover trio peered out from behind the column at the top of the stairs where they had secreted themselves. The room below was empty save for Ginger. Given that the captain had been severely shot in the head on his arrival at the top of the stairs, it was clear to the trio that they would be safe from orcs as long as they remained where they were. Of course, just because whatever was up here liked shooting orcs, did not necessarily imply that they were going to be welcomed with open arms, or other limbs. The enemy of my enemy is bigger than both of us. Not great odds I think you’ll agree. However, the three dungballs being something of a bunch of ‘heroes’ in this story I informed them that they would be safe for the moment and so they walked around the circular corridor to the next flight of steps and were promptly arrested by the guardians of Sauron’s inner sanctum.

“Thanks for that!”

You’re more than welcome. Anyway fear not it’s all part of the plot.

“See!!!! I told you we were just a plot device!”

I had the guards gag the three of them of then drag them down to the dungeon’s which were currently acting as a cellar for the Orc ‘N’ Hat. They were then chained to the walls by their wrists with their arms above their heads and left there to rot.

Saruman, meanwhile, was sitting playing “Risk” with a couple of his apprentices when one of his bodyguards burst in through the door.

“My Lord! My Lord! The hobbits you ordered have arrived!”

“Where? Let me see!”

“They are in the dungeons my Lord.” Saruman rushed to the door and out and down the stairs towards the dungeons. His apprentices lowered their hoods and looked at one another. They then walked to the window and stared out at the dam, holding back the elsewise mighty torrent of the River Isen.

“What do you think Ron? If we combine our wand-streams? We could blow the dam.”

“No problem Harry. No problem.”

Just then 200 hundred dancing brooms went past carrying water buckets, closely followed by a 4 foot high mouse in a pointy hat and star spangled wizard’s costume yelling something about the cauldron overflowing. Harry and Ron winked at each other. Perhaps they wouldn’t need their wands afterall.

[Lalaith]

oh! this has had everything! sorcerer's apprentice and all!! lovely A.L.L. (although that particular disney offering scared the **** out of me as a child!! )
Brilliant! :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Yes, Lalaith I've often wondered about the scared-witless factor of Disney. Especially in Fantasia where they lull you into a false sense of security by playing relatively safe classical music with acid-trip graphics and then pound you with multiple items of dancing cleaning equipment and a heavily overflowing bath-tub (they told me it was a cauldron but who believes adults when they're 5?)

Ok most people will probably laugh at me for saying that but imagine this. Your parents take you to somewhere they refer to as a fun/holiday park and convince you that you are going to have fun and merriment. Fine. Sounds great. Imagine, then, if you will, the look of horror on any five year old's face when, first thing in the morning, just as you are queuing for your first go on the "Nice and Cuddly and Thoroughly Unscary Slowly Revolving Tea Cups With Extra Padding Just In Case Ride" and what should you happen to see?

Nothing less than a 6 foot rat with oversized ears running towards you out of the morning mist and calling for his even more oversized dog to maul you while your parents push you to your doom laughing and thinking it's cute. Harken unto me all would-be parents! It is not cute nor is it clever. NEVER take your children to a place we shan't name for legal reasons (it rhymes with fizneyland! Or in my case Eurofizney!) unless you want to end up with a potentially disturbed child with a fear of all, hitherto harmless, animals and one who thinks all castles are made of styrofoam and plastic!!!!!!

Here endeth the rant.

A.L.L.

[Nessa]

lol Nice story, and nice rant. I remember hating that spinning Dumbo ride thing at said theme park (fizneyland?). Actually, I remeber being scared witless at the Dumbo movie, it was the bubble elephants that got me, I still refuse to watch that movie in any situation. Erm, anyway.......

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

“Chapter 9 - How Aragorn Came To Be At Helm’s Deep”

Let’s recap shall we, for my sake if not for yours.

Sam and Frodo were last seen leading Gollum around with elven rope at his neck. Merry and Pippin are currently in Saruman’s dungeon covered in dung (although to be fair Saruman was not the one to cover them in dung). Boromir is dead and thus Gondor has lost its heir...

“Gondor has no heir, Gondor needs no heir!” You again!! Well Boromir me old mate. Look! If, despite being dead, you insist on putting in these kinds of cameos you’re going to have to be a little more inventive than just re-hashing the old lines I gave you before. Now go away and think of something better than ‘Gondor has no, Gondor needs no’ gags and think of some better lines for yourself ok?

“Boromir has no lines, Boromir needs no...”

Go AWAY!!!!!!!!!!! Boromir went away to let me get back to my increasingly necessary summary. Yes, Boromir is dead (looks over his shoulder to make sure Boromir isn’t there) and Gimli, Legolas, Eowyn and Theoden (plus about 400 nameless extras) are heading to Helm’s Deep to back themselves into a corner so that they can’t run any further and they have to stand and fight. Oh yes, and Harry and Ron (who really shouldn’t have been part of this story) are apprentices to Saruman the Extremely Tarnished at Isengard but they have recently displayed signs that they are about to turn on him. Wormtongue has not yet arrived at Isengard and neither has the messanger that will tell Saruman about the journey of the people of Rohan to Helm’s Deep. Most of that will happen during one of the following chapters but I won’t tell you when it does happen because I no longer see the point given that you know that it’s going to happen now anyway. Right! I think we’re up to date now.

‘Ah!’ I hear you cry. ‘But you have surely forgotten Aragorn!’

‘No!’ you hear me cry. ‘I have reserved Aragorn’s part of the tale for the rest of this chapter. And don’t be so blooming impatient!’

Now you may recall that Aragorn went over the cliff in the DeLorian (which, given that it was given to him by Legolas, we should probably call a DeLothlorien [I think he was from Mirkwood actually but what the hey!]) but whilst everyone else thought this was the end of Aragorn, Legolas knew differently. He knew that the car had been pre-programmed, by himself, to travel a few thousand years into the future and then back again to allow Aragorn, hunk and all around good guy (oh yes, and rightful king of Gondor )(everyone looked around to make sure that Boromir was not about to leap out and deliver a naff line) to reach Helm’s Deep safely. Unfortunately, Legolas had failed to consider the possibility that the cliff would still be there in a few thousand years time. Thus, when Aragorn vanished into the future and then reappeared in 1955 on the other side, he wasn’t, in fact, on the other side. He still found himself flying through the air in a car that, despite the wing-like nature of its doors, was not intended to fly in the same way that Ford Anglias apparently were and was thus careering down towards the river below and, from any rational person’s point of view, towards certain death. He did not die. Go figure. Instead the car landed heavily but safely in the river which carried him, unconcious, down towards a small town called Hill Valley. In the same way that I make no excuse for Aragorn surviving the fall, I shall not be explaining how Aragorn left the land of Rohan (in ancient Europe) and landed somewhere on the Undiscovered Lands (modern day America). Had any of you been interested in rationality or believability you would undoubtedly have stopped reading immediately after the first sentence of the first chapter of the first book of this tale. No offence but you dug your grave so lie in it. Let us get on.

When Aragorn awoke he was in a strange land in a strange time with a strange look on his face. His face was pressed rather painfully up against the glass of the windscreen and Aragorn found that the strange look left his face when he removed it from the glass. He felt his jaw to see that it was in one piece and it was. Outside of the window a family was having a picnic by the riverbank and they watched with open mouths as Aragorn started the engine and drove the DeLorian up the small beach and onto the main road. He was soon lost. All he could see were strange rigid flags which did not blow in the breeze. On each of these flags he saw strange runes which he took to be numbers and other forms of writing denoting cities and strange lands unknown. Then, all of a sudden, he saw something he recognised from the elven scripts. Two giant arches of gold.

“But what is this ‘McDonald’s?”

This is a good question, not least because in 1955 there was only one McDonald’s in the world and it was in Des Plains, Illinois, it having been opened there that year by some Kroc or other. Aragorn decided to drive on. The sun had descended behind the nearby hill (the one the valley was named after) as Aragorn turned the corner of Main Street towards the courthouse. It was barely noticable that the sun had descended, however, given that the town was being drenched by a particularly miffed storm cloud at the time. Aragorn slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid being struck by another DeLorian, eerily identical to the one he was driving, coming down Main Street at the same time. The other car sped passed a cable running down from the clock tower and the car vanished leaving two flaming tyre tracks in its wake. Aragorn decided that this was obviously something that happened alot to these cars. Just beside the point where the DeLorian had disappeared was a freak with grey hair dancing up and down and shouting “It worked!” very loudly. This seemed to Aragorn to be a good place to start.

“Hey!”

“Who’s there?”

“Erm, my name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I think you may be able to help me. It’s about my car...” Aragorn pointed at the Delorian.

“Great Scott!”

“Sorry?”

“I’ve done two already tonight! I sent Marty home an hour ago, then some pretty-boy who called himself Legolas wanted to borrow one of my prototypes. You just missed him actually. He went out on the last lightening strike just then. How many times do you expect lightning to strike? Even for nonsense tales like this, twice is pretty rare!”

“Look I’d do it myself but I don’t know much about cars and I’ve come all this way...”

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Give me a minute.” The grey-haired lunatic looked in his log book at some figures he was working on. After a moment he came over again. “You’re in luck. This storm cloud is about to let another one rip. There is, however, one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I must come back with you.”

“Er, I guess that would be ok. Why do you want to come?”

“Look, this car has been used once too often. Every time it is used there is another duplicate of it somewhere on the space time continuum (is that really a word?) and if they should ever bump into one another....” Aragorn recalled the near miss he had had only a moment ago with what must have been the same car. “Well suffice it to say that the universe would come to an end.”

“That’s about as suffice as you could ask for. So you want to come with me and then take the car back to stop it being used any more?” The lunatic nodded and then politely asked the author if he would kindly stop calling him lunatic and refer to him by his proper name, Dr Emmett Brown, known to his friends as Doc. The car door slammed just as the author was making a note of this for future reference. The Doc looked at his watch and ordered Aragorn into position.

“But Doc. There isn’t enough road. Shouldn’t I back up a bit?”

The Doc shook his head. “From what your friend told me, where we’re going... we don’t need...roads.”

“I think what he meant to say was... where we’re going... there are no... roads!”

“That’s ok. Just push this button and the flying features I had installed in the 21st century just carry you above the ground.” Aragorn made a mental note to give Legolas a slap for not mentioning that this car had the capacity to fly and then put the car into gear.

The Doc raised his hand and then dropped it again at which point Aragorn slammed his foot to the floor and the car sped off down the street towards the awaiting cable. The lightning struck just as predicted and the car caught the full force of the strike on its way past and it rose of the ground before vanishing in the usual way.

When it reappeared back in Aragorn’s time, they were positioned near Helm’s Deep, on the great plains. Suddenly, the flying gear packed in and they found themselves aimed away from Helm’s Deep and currently cruising headlong toward about 10,000 orcs on their way from Isengard (the car had reappeared sometime after the news of the retreat to Helm’s Deep had reached Saruman).

“Arggghghghghghghghg!” they screamed as Aragorn did a quick hand-break turn and brought the car a full 180 degrees as they sped off back towards the fortress and relative safety.

20 minutes later the car sped up the gang-plank of the fortress. Legolas had warned the guards of their arrival and had come down to meet them. He got a smack in the mouth for not telling Aragorn that the car could fly but he then got a soppy kiss for returning Arwen’s necklace which Aragorn had dropped during the battle. Eowyn saw the kiss and got the wrong idea. Gimli saw the kiss and got the right idea but felt a little jealous anyway. Theoden saw the kiss and assumed it was one of his daily hallucinations.

"You there! Page-boy! Run down to the chemists and pick up my Bromperidol will you! We can't have hallucinations ruining a good battle now can we?"

[Nala Greenleaf]

lol lol lol xellent really funny lol lol it looks like legolas got the kiss he was waiting for!!!!

[Lalaith]

Great Scott! Fabulous as ever A.L.L! Loved the summary at the start... and thank you so much for putting Boromir in!! :) Brilliant...

[Little Devil]

Brilliant as always :thumbs: lol roflmao

[Bess the Bard]

Absolutely fabulous stuff. Needed a good laugh today. Thanks.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks everybody.

Sorry to have to repay your kind comments with a lack of effort on my part but I just have not had time to write the next chapter yet. (I have a chapter of my dissertation to write before I go to Manchester on Friday).

Fear not! I shall also attempt to publish the next chapter before I leave for Manchester. If not I'll be back on Monday and will publish then.

Oh and just for future reference, once the next chapter goes up I shall be putting the whole thing so far into the new fanfic section of the main page. I'll leave this thread open in case any more comments are floating around unposted but I hope (subtle hint alert) that some of you will post maybe a review of the fic on the new fanfic section too as I assume that when I move the story, the rest of the thread does not follow and thus the comments from my beloved readers will have to remain here (sobs uncontrollably [then finds a dictionary to check the spelling of 'uncontollably' - it seems ok]).

:notworthy::notworthy::notworthy:

Thank you for your support.
I shall always wear it.

[Lalaith]

Never fear A.L.L!! I'll be there! As long as Boromir shows up!! Nah, just kidding - but I will review over there (try and stop me!)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

I give my personal guarantee that Boromir will most definitely make a large number of appearances.

Oh and in case it looks a little odd, my nick on the fanfic part is ALL (it wouldn't let me register as A.L.L. or Aragorn's Latest Lay so I had to make do)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Right then. T'is done! The whole of the Lord of the Swings thus far is on the fanfic part of the site.

You can find it here: http://www.warofthering.net/storyline1.8/main.php?list=1 (just click on the title) and reviews (if any) can be placed here too (please, please, please put some reviews there - I'd do it myself but that would be cheating)

As I mentioned before, all future chapters will appear there to avoid confusion.

Thanks all.

A.L.L.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Hey there. :)

Just to let you know that part of a new chapter has been put up in the fanfic section (see above link) for your pleasure (I hope).

Happy reading.

A.L.L.

[Lalaith]

Ok, I know this is competely and utterly not the thread to comment but I figured this would be the best way of communicating with you A.L.L!
First - great continuation! Made me smile, esp the reference to the Poseidon Adventure!:grin:
Second - thanks for commenting on my fanfic! yeay!
Third - in answer to one of your reviews - I am a huge Legolas and Orlando Bloom fan but I cannot stand most of the drivel that is written about Legolas in fanfictions! There are some exceptions - Golilocks' 'Tale of Mirkwood' is one but usually when I see Legolas I BACK AWAY!!! Swiftly!
Fourth - Come on over to the fanfic section PEOPLE!!!! A.L.L and I can't be the only people represented there!!

[Nessa]

roflmao

I've just read the new chapter ALL, and it was terrific. I actually think the wait made it better, if you get me. And Frodo took his clothes off! A girl can't ask for much more. ;)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks Nessa.

I think I know what you mean.

Oh and Frodo will be doing that a lot more in future I think. ;)

A.L.L.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

New bit of chapter 10 just gone up (2. Harry and Ron). :) enjoy

A.L.L.

[Little Devil]

Brilliant, I love it all with Harry, Ron and Hermione. ;) :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Next part of chapter 10 will go onto the new fanfic section sometime tomorrow (Wednesday) if anyone's interested.

Oh and yes. Posting this IS just a cheap ploy to keep this thread somewhere near the top of the page! ;)

A.L.L.

[Elfdaughter]

lol!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Speaking of cheap ploys to stay in the lime-light, here's another.

Oh and another bit of chapter 10 has gone up about goings on at the Orc 'N' Hat! It's still in the same chapter section as last time so don't get confused if you think it's not there. It's just at the bottom.

When I finish the rest of chapter 10 (not long now) you will be the first to know (you might even get to find out before me at this rate). Enjoy. Or not. It's really up to you.

A.L.L.

[Elfdaughter]

Oh, we'll enjoy it, A.L.L!

[Elceleb]

Just had time to read the prologue, but it sounds great. I love the idea of Nazgul in Nappies. btw, I'm supposed to tell you that Lalaith sent me :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Hey Elceleb! Pleasure to see a new member.

So you know Lalaith ey? Excellent. Lalaith will no doubt bring you up to speed with what we do around he and who most people are. Suffice it to say, if you, I, Lalaith or pretty much anyone else you see post on these threads are on line at the same time, be prepared to bring a strait-jacket,,,,

You think I'm kidding don't you?.... Ah so young, so naive....

Welcome again! ;)

[Elceleb]

*Readies her strait-jacket and awaits A. L. L.'s return*

I know Lalaith pretty well, I think. ;) We're working together on a story right now, actually :p

[Lady Coralie]

OMG! Aragorn's Latest Lay! Just sprayed my computer screen with coffee mate! Cheers! That is the funniest thing I've read in ages. Looks like I've joined the ranks of the braying pack of hyena readers! Looking forward to the next chapter! :)

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Thanks galls and guys.

Sorry it is taking so long for the next chapter. I have to get my dissertation finished.

Actually, in order to get my dissertation finished I have to get it started. Always good to begin with! Hence the delay. Fear not however! For Monday will be a free writing day for farce and fornication.... ok perhaps just farce. But needless to say I shall bring you news when a new chapter struggles its way out of my overcrowded brain. :thumbs:

[Narisunell]

roflmao roflmao roflmao lol lol lol this is all hilarious!!! i LUV it! i hope you add more soon!! *goes off laughin her head off*

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

You have your wish Narisunell.

Good news everyone! Chapter 11 is now up.

I promise that I will not leave it so long between chapters next time.

:)

A.L.L.

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Oh yes, it's here by the way...:

http://www.warofthering.net/storyline1.8/story.php?no=2&chapter=23

Happy reading.... :thumbs:

[Lady Aerowen]

*falls over laughing* Well guys! Looks like I'll be hopping into this story ;) Enjoy!

btw, ALL, you find me bubbly? ;)

~Aerowen

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Natch! Except when you are on the floor...

[Lalaith]

Excellent continuation, ALL!! :thumbs: :grin:

I have duly submitted my review, full of grammatical errors such was my general over-enthusiasm! :p

Look forward to more!

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

I've just read the reveiw Lalaith! Wow, thanks, you are too kind as always. Glad you and your friends are enjoying it.

I am embarrassed about how long it took. I have had lots of other things to do but to be truthful I didn't want to put out something that just looked like an add-on for the sake of it. It had to fit in with the rest of the humour and the story. Given my love of quoting other films and stuff, when I was talking with lady Aerowen the other day part of my brain was just plotting how to bring the Arwen/Eowyn thing into context and i looked at Aerowen's name and it just struck me! They could be two people in the same body. I put the Kitty in cos Aero's other name is Satanic Kitty (I just love that) and so I had to put that in too. The pods from the fly seemed the natural thing to use and to get the Doc from Back to the Future to work them. you realise that the only reason i am telling you all this is cos it happens once in a blue moon that I lose track and need to recite the creative process over in my head and on paper to make sure it doesn't happen again.

fear not! i shall never let it be so long in coming ever EVER again! :blushes:

Hope your friends enjoy the update. :thumbs:

A.L.L.

[Lalaith]

Don't stress about the time it took! I shudder to think how long some of my stories have taken!

But once again - absolutely inspired stuff - many we're notworthies heading your way!!

notworthy notworthy notworthy notworthy notworthy

Now, where is that straitjacket?

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Sorry, I think I took your words a little too seriously Lalaith. It took even longer this time, although it wasn't actually my fault.... honest.... we have the elections coming up and I also need to get my disserta.......

Actually why am I bothering you with all my problems? Forget I said anything. ;)

Just to let you know that the new chapter of Lord of the Swings is up in the fanfic section. Hope people can still be bothered to read it. :thumbs:

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

p.s. I'll get started on the next bit straight away so as to avoid anothr embarassing gap.

A.L.L.

[Lady Aerowen]

There'd better be something about 'me' coming up, ALL *winks*

For the compliments! ;) I still love this chapter just as much as the rest (though, ofc, my fave is the one about Aerowen ;)) This story shows a bunch of creativity and you express you sense/ability of humour espically well :thumbs: I espically love how you switch around or completely redo the titles of someone X-) 'Aerowen, the Light and Bubbly' And that just gave me an idea for my WotR title... lol

Thanks, ALL! :thumbs: I just might use that :p Keep up the great work!

~Aero

[Nefatariel]

Too funny! I loved it! :)

[Elfdaughter]

*whimper* Any more coming there, All??

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

Hey ED.

Sorry, haven't been on for a while, too much flippin' work with my dissertation. However that is now done and dusted for the mo so yes indeedy, I am the opening stages of my next 4 chapters leading up to the end of the Two Tassels and am about to start work on the The Return Swing. These will be up in the next week or so. Hope you enjoy them.

Keep the faith. :cool: :p :p

[Elfdaughter]

Yay!! *hugs ALL* I thought we'd lost you there!

[Mithrandir]

In fact in this third age of Middle-Earth buses had not yet been invented. If he was to do away with himself he would have to wait a hell of a long time.

hahhaha LOL lol lmao nice job there I loved it and it dont think that offends anyone

[Aragorn's Latest Lay]

sorry to be a pain and yes this probably is just another cheap attempt to get this thread back up to the top of the page but...

I know it's been a while and i keep promising to post the next bits but i'm not happy with them and my attentions have been diverted to some changes that need to be made to my dissertation (again! blahhhh) so pleeeeeeeeeeeese bear with me and I will write i promise.

Not that i imagine that the writing or non-writing of this particular work is likely to affect many of your lives for particularly long but hey! thought i'd let you know anyway.

Must dash, those Bambi steaks won't grill themselves you know...