Write Your Own LOTR - Lorien to end of FotR

[Primula]

Treble is past his ears in work, so rather than reining back the frothing rabidity of our collective creative genius until he can sort out the older threads, I am posting the most recent page's worth from Part 7 so we can pick up where we left off. The older threads are safely tucked away at the Scrapbook under Serial Parodies right HERE

Are we ready?

[Primula]

(this is a collection of the most recent events by their various posters - sorry, this is as coherent as it will get!)


Sam whisked his master into a quick foxtrot and then abruptly stopped.

"Mr. Frodo, I say that the next time we start on one of these Quest things, we recruit a few lasses to come along... who do we talk to about that? You keep wanting to lead all the time..."

Sam scrunched up his face and mumbled, "I wonder if my Rosie would've come along if'n I'd asked her? She's a terribly brave sort, what with handling all those brothers of hers..."

Frodo was utterly confused. One moment he was pretending to talk to an inanimate Elven birdbath, the next he was foxtrotting with his gardener in the light of a disco ball! The Ring was throbbing and humming along but it didn't really have the right beat - He smacked at it to make it stop and knocked himself clean backwards onto the moss where he lay in a muddled daze. If it was going to be such a noisy little Thing, at least it could have the right percussion!

"I wish I didn't have this Ring. I wish it was a timpani..." he mumbled. He looked up at the Elven Queen who seemed to tower over him. "You want it?" he asked, holding out the troublesome trinket.

Sam stepped back, his mouth agape. Could it really be so simple as all that? Did this mean they'd be heading home soon? He quickly, and very unobtrusively, crossed his fingers. Crossing his toes would be way too obvious.


Gal grinned. She didn't really care about the Ring one way or the other, but here was another chance to scare the living daylights out of the Hobbits, handed to her on a platter.

A couple of moments of concentration, and she had it. What she felt was: the sensation of touching a Van de Graff generator (for those who haven't had this experience, it feels like a light wind on your skin and has the added bonus of making your hair stand up).

What the hobbits saw was this: Gal went all Blue and Scary, her hair standing on end, her dress billowing backward in a sudden wind.

"WAHHAHAHAHA! Give me the Ring, it's so shiny and pretty!! Fear me, Puny little Hobbits! All shall love me or disappear!" (Here Gal got the sense that she'd somehow messed up the words she was supposed to say, but this made sense...) "Fear ME!" Gal shouted before collapsing into a coughing fit.

When she was through coughing, she straightened up and snapped, "WHAT?" at the staring hobbits. Gal stifled a smirk before it could grow into a full-blown evil grin.


Gal, honey . . . The Bir, um, Mirror whispered. If you want to scare them, try this . . .

Suddenly, the water grew dark, and a vision of mushrooms covered the surface. Such was the illusion that they actually seemed to grow right out of the basin. As the hobbits drooled and stumbled forward in a daze, a dragon (made of fireworks that was dredged from the memory of the hobbits) performed a strafing run on the field of mushrooms and burnt them all to the ground, leaving nothing in its wake but a field of ash in which not even a single spore from the Favored Fungus survived. . . .

"GAHHHHHH!" cried Frodo in despair as the last of the mushrooms evaporated before his eyes. If only one had been left!

He looked up with pleading eyes to the frazzled and windblown Elf. "Even the smallest fungi could change the course of our dinner..." he whimpered. "Please, if you will not take the Ring, will you at least give us a mushroom?"

He decided it prudent not to comment on her bizarre behavior and appearance, assuming she would be embarrassed to find her tripping over the electric cord for the birdbath had been seen. He remembered when the Gaffer had tried to wash the electric potato-peeler in the pony trough before unplugging it - it had been very much like this, except with a string of amazing expletives and lots of jumping up and down.

Gal looked at the mirror, bemused. How *do* you do that? she asked, as Frodo started whimpering.

She smiled down at the terrified Hobbit, and from the pocket of her dress, pulled out two mushrooms. "I'm not sure these are the same thing as what you have back in the Shire...But they'd be better than NO MUSHROOMS AT ALL! wouldn't they?" The blueness hadn't quite worn off, and as she said this last part, she turned rather blue again.

Frodo goggled at the mushrooms. They were the brightest, most beautiful fungi he had ever laid eyes on, and he'd seen a lot. One of them seemed to shine like a star from the heavens itself - he reached for it and tentatively plucked it from her hand.

"Oh," he said, a touch disappointed. "It's that ring you have on, not the mushroom. I though it was a, you know, magical starry mushroom or something... Nice ring, by the way..."

"Thank you," Gal said, smiling down at the hobbit. It would probably confuse him, her being nice to him and all...but his mention of her ring put her in a funny mood.
"That lovely piece of bling was given to me by Celeborn when he asked me to marry him...granted, I had to hit, erm, hint very strongly to him that a ring of power usually went along with an engagement," she elaborated, eyes going misty at the beautiful memory: Cel had asked her to marry him, she had accepted...but when she realised there was no ring involved, she grabbed the nearest rubber chicken and smacked him with it until he became aware of his grave mistake. She got the impression that he had lived in a kind of terror of her ever since...which was, of course, as it should be.

Aragorn suddenly woke up with a snort. No, wait. It wasn't his snort, it was the snort of Gimli, who was still attached to his leg and sound asleep. He looked around the now relatively quiet campground, littered with spent water-balloons, rubber spiders and squashed clattering teeth.

Where was Frodo? It must be nearly dawn by now and Frodo and Sam seemed to be out wandering someplace...

He debated whether or not to go looking for them, but the weight of Gimli was too great for sprinting should any danger arise. However, he might be able to drag him down to the shore of the little river nearby to scope it out for any boats they could steal..., or, uh, borrow.

He hoped Legolas had gotten his note about snooping around for any food supplies they could stuff in their pockets. It would be even better if they could find a good stash of something to snack on while they travelled, and get it in the boats. He wondered if there were any more of those Eggo waffle-looking thingys that he'd seen on the banquet table earlier. They'd stack pretty well... that or some of tha Elven pizza....

He levered himself up off the ground and slowly began working his way down to the shore.

scrape....THUMP.....scrape.....THUMP.....

Hearing a strange "scrape.....THUMP.....scrape...." woke Pippin out of a sound sleep. Rolling over Pippin saw Strider walking off with a strange hairy little lump attached to his leg. Rubbing his eyes, Pippin realized that it was actually Gimli holding on to Strider's leg.

Poking Merry, Pippin woke him up. "Hey, Merry, let's go see if we can find something for 1st breakfast!"

Merry gave a start when Pippin poked him awake. Still groggy he looked around trying to figure out what was going on for he dimmly remembered something about rubber spiders on elastic strings and him screaming like a girl. Now this made a rosie blush appear on his cheeks and he feverently hoped that he had only been screaming in a dream.

Then he also heard this scrape...THUMP...scrape sound before he saw Strider walking off towards the shore with Gimli apparently super glued to one leg. He then made a mental note to remember not to get to friendly with the dwarf for he seemed to form strong attachments to his friends.

But thoughts of food soon took over after Pippin had mentioned looking for 1st breakfast. "I hope they serve something more than just a continental breakfast for I'm starving!" he said to his friend.

"Too right, Merry," Pippin said, "a continental breakfast is just not going to cut it this morning! I need sausages, fried mushrooms, biscuits, gravy......"

Pippin's voice trailed off into the trees as he started sniffing out breakfast.

-

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Sam heard a loud grumbling and glanced furtively at the mirror. Then he realized the unmentionable sound was actually emanating from his own innards. He sidled closer to Frodo and whispered, "Master, I don't suppose they'll be feeding us any time soon? Beggin' your pardon, o'course, no disrespect, if'n it's all the same, I mean, there are some embarrassin' rumblin's makin' itself known, and it's gettin' louder, sir..."

He knew without being told or looking in that odd mirror that he was turning red up to his ears. If only Mr. Frodo were a bit broader and a tad taller, then it would be easier to hide behind him, but he wasn't, so Sam endeavored to make himself smaller by jamming his hands in his pockets and ducking his head down.

[DoctorGamgee]

The mirror heard the rumbling sounds of the round little hobbit and responded with two melodies which it knew would strike terror into the hearts of hobbits . . .

A fork scraping across an empty plate, followed by the sound of a metal spoon rubbing against the cardboard bottom of a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

He almost choked Galadriel, who was unprepared for such a display.

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Sam wailed, "Now, you've done it! I've not thought about Chocolate Therapy for a whole... let's see... a whole 10 minutes!! I want my Chocolate Therapy!!"

Now Sam really felt embarrassed, for the voice seemed hardly his own.

[Primula]

Frodo snapped out of the mushroom-desiring daze he had fallen into when the sound of a fork on an empty plate was heard.

"Now I've done it, I've gone and missed breakfast!" he cried out to himself, forgetting that Sam was there. He turned, and bumped smack into Sam, or rather was rammed by Sam's head which was down. Once glance and the two of them immediately established that they were both starving and they were both missing out on food - no words were necessary for this, the very core of all Hobbit instinct.

Turning away from Mirror and Lady, neither of which were edible, they dashed off through the bushes in what Frodo thought was the location of their camp determined that whatever it was that had been served they might at least arrive in time to lick the plates.

"It's barely even light out, what are they thinking serving breakfast at this hour without even warning us?" he grumbled as he plowed through the underbrush. "And what is that loud rumbling I keep hearing? Are there wild animals around here?"

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

"Sorry, Mr. Frodo, just my innards announcing it's far past time there was something in there," Sam puffed, struggling to keep up.

[Laiquendi]

When suddenly, as if on cue from the director, Frodo ran headfirst into a slime-covered pole that smelled just a little like Orc á la Sword.

"Mind where you're running, Frodo. Gimli's just starting to come loose!" Aragorn exclaimed a little too loudly. Frodo could see now that Aragorn was stood knee-deep in a small pond, with the encumbant Gimli held just below the water level.

"Two more minutes and I can start using this fashionable Elvish crowbar."

[Avondster]

Gimli was uncomfortably shaken from his beauty sleep when he was ducked into some rather cold, rather wet water.

He let go of Aragorn's leg and came up spluttering, glaring at the Ranger.

But right after that he was overcome with infinite sadness: his mission had failed! Now that Strider was stealthy once more, they would surely soon be leaving, and this while he was so close to getting a snog from the pretty Elf-lady!

[Lothithil]

Legolas was hanging from his knees, upside-down-- an unlikely Elvish opposum-- from a nearby Mallorn branch. He was watching the proceedings below with mild interest.

"Hold the hairy little git underwater a little longer, 'Gorny!" he called out. "Maybe he'll smell a little better on the down-wind side!"

[Dínelleth]

Now Merry's hunger was so great that it forced him to start running forward in a desperate attempt to find food. However that meant he ran straight into Legolas's long blonde hair while the elf hung upside down from a mallorn branch.

"AUGH!!!" Merry cried out in alarm as his neck and arms instantly became entangled in the silky stands like a bug in a spider's web. "Oh no not more spiders!" he then shrieked like a girl which made him quickly shut up and blush a deep red in embarrassment.

[Laiquendi]

Just as Merry became entangled in the Abominable Legolas, Aragorn felt a sharp pain in his left leg as the distraction had given Gimli a chance to tighten his vice-like grip.

"Not again you don't!" Shouted Aragorn with a vengence, and with the strength of One Man and a Crowbar, he ripped the soggy lump of hair away from him. It landed with a splash about 10ft away sending all the Elves scurrying like ants.

"Now look what you've done to my trousers!" He proclaimed loudly, just enough to get the attention of the local Lothlórien tailor.

[Primula]

Staggering backwards from the sudden stop, Frodo and Sam landed on their backsides in a heap of wet bracken - which wasn't even any good as a salad green though the widow Rumble had been known to serve it up with dressing as a sidedish to unsuspecting young hobbits who came hoping to mooch off of her larder.

All that aside, their brief discomfort was soon distracted from by several unusual sights - a flying ball of grumpy dwarf and their cousin shrieking in a high-pitched voice as he flailed around in some sort of gossamer curtain that was coming from one of the trees. In the sparkling, growing light of the gentle Elven dawn it made an odd tableau.

A piece of paper crunched under Frodo's back pocket. Hoping it might be a wrapper from some sort of food, he pulled it out and wiped bracken from it.

"What's this?" he wondered aloud, showing it to Sam. It seemed to be some sort of Elven advertisement, showing idyllic scenes of happy Elves paddling about a lake or river on little boats, some of which were shaped like swans. A garlanded Lembas stand could be seen on one of the shores, and a festive air filled the entire scene. There was some sort of coupon that could be ripped out, good for 3 something-or-others.... boats maybe? It looked like jolly good fun, really, if you were a Bucklander that is...

He peered at the fine print, then shrugged. "It's some form of Elvish. I can't read it," he said, looking up at Aragorn. "Can you make anything of it? It has boats on it."

[Ineffable Twaddle]

Gollum, who had been unaccountably absent for quite a while yet still in a position where he could watch the goings-on without being noticed, shifted uncomfortably in his Acme Mallorn Tree Limb disguise, swallowed to appease his increasingly-dry throat, and hoped the Elf would let go before he was forced to make his trademark disgusting sore-throat noise and give himself away. He grunted, clung fiercely to the tree trunk, and held his peace.

[Lothithil]

Legolas glanced upward/downward at the entangled Merry, and said (with a long suffering sigh):

"Merriadoc, would you please get out of my hair?"

Thus the birth of the cliché. Mark your calendars.