E-text chapter 11: The Stars of Cirith Ungallant
tamfiiris
in the saga of the ring as Tolkie *knew* it should have been. it has
been a pleasure to write, i hoop some of you will enjoy reading it,
too. /Tamf
-----------------------------
THE STARS OF CIRITH UNGALLANT
-----------------------------
Accompained by a soft stream of saddams, Gulible overviewed the
company in disgust. Sam was wearing a happy, yet resolute face which
practically screamed "I'm a continually failing, eternally doubting
revolutionary, but at least I know how to handle the ladies", and he
kept throwing quick glances at Spiegel, who ignored them with a
mysterious, inwards smile. Frodo kept tugging at his clothes for no
obvious reason, except perhaps for a crawling slug he had noticed on
the roadside. Gulible sighed.
"We can't stay here, precious, no, sadam," he said, and noticing how
little effect his voice had on them, raised it from a wheeze to a
rasp. "Would any of you like to see the pleasures this place has to
offer?" he asked with a sly grin.
For lack of better suggestions they followed him, through lush, green
parks and stately piazzas, until they reached the pulsating
entertainment district of Disgiliath, known for unknown reason as
Cirith Ungallant. All of a sudden they found themselves surrounded by
it all: Flashing lights, flashing dresses, leering orcs singing
operettas in falsetto. "It's a fallen place, and that's a fact," said
Sam, regarding a dancing southron of the female variety with all the
disapproval he could muster. "Yeah, and it's horribly sexist," said
Spiegel, who was busy condemning a display of imaginatively shaped
dildos.
At the call of Gulible they ran to a store of leatherwares where Frodo
sat in the innermost corner, refusing to come out. "They're mine,
precious! We wants them!" he screamed whenever someone tried to take
away the studded collar and leash he was clutching. The proprietor's
assurances that the items were meant for dogs only did not help one
little bit, but at last Sam managed to lure him out with a promise of
a chic poodle trim at the next dog hairdresser they spotted.
"Hopefully he'll think he's a tortoise by then," Sam muttered to
Spiegel, "that idiot, inbred aristocrat." His confidante failed to
answer, however, too occupied in admiring a shiny leather corset.
Finally they were out in the street again, Spiegel several parcels
heavier. "They're the new me," she explained to Sam when he questioned
her latest investments. "You don't own me, you know." They continued
their ideological discussion as Gulible led them past a gloomy joint
called "The mouldy vampire" decorated with an enormous replica of a
bat. As Frodo stopped and stared longingly at the giant creature of
the night, the doors swung open and a dark crowd emerged. They wore
all sorts of black clothes: coal-black velvet, soot-black silk,
gleaming black PVC. But all their faces were pale, and their angsty
expressions filled the company with fear.
"It is too late! All is lost! I am so hungry," wailed suddenly Frodo,
as someone pushed him out of eye contact with his favourite flying
rodent*. "Be quiet, Frodo," said everyone, and Gulible explained:
"They're just a band of wandering visit-goths, on their way to destroy
some empire or other. They're none of our business, sadam." Frodo
looked at their guide with newfound respect. "By jove, Gulible!" he
exclaimed. "For one with such freakish speak impediments, you sure
know a lot!" "Yes, sadam," muttered Gulible softly and turned away.
They did their best to mingle with the Disgillians, in order to better
understand their culture, they all agreed. "The bush... the barsh will
not be burned against the wall, come the revolution," said Sam loudly
after they had had a thorough introduction to the drinking customs of
the area. Spiegel nodded and smiled while Gulible desperately tried to
edge his barstool closer to hers. As it finally tipped over, she
gasped and pointed. "Oh my Eru... Look!" Sam looked up, suddenly
sober, and saw Frodo up at the bar, doing an extravagant performance
of the Bree-dance. "Quick, take Gulible!" he barked, knowing they had
to stop his master at once. Spiegel understood immediately, and
together they swung the guide through the air so that he collided with
Frodo with a satisfying thud.
"I can see stars, Gulible," whispered Frodo later. He giggled
insanely. "But my head is in the ocean."
"That's because we're in the gutter, preciousss," said Gulible, and
fought a sudden urge to kick the drunken hobbit. Getting the group to
the goal seemed more and more difficult. "Sam? Spiegel? Where are
youssss?" he cried, fearing the worst. "We're coming... soon,
Gulible," answered Sam in a muffled voice, and some minutes afterwards
they emerged from a back alley, Spiegel rearranging her parcels with
elaborate care. "Look, Frodo," she said at last, handing him a small
paper bag. "I bought you one after all." Frodo dried his tears and
opened the present. "It's beautiful!" he exclaimed, suddenly happy
again. "May I put it on now?" "If you wish, Master," said Sam
solemnly. "And I'll take the leash, if you allow, Sir."
And so they were on their way again, Gulible in the lead, Frodo in the
leash, and Sam and Spiegel in an inexplicable fit of giggles. The
scenes were becoming even more spectacular, there were lights, colours
and cheerful people (or something similar) everywhere. Frodo stopped
and said: "What is this place, Gul...omph!" As they walked on, Gulible
answered: "We're now in the heart of Cirith Ungallant. This is the
original entertainment district, of which all other glitzy places are
mere copies. They say a new position is discovered every day here." He
glanced at Sam and Spiegel. "With certain restraints, of course.
Sadam."
Loud music and cheers erupted from a palace-like building at the end
of the street. Gulible quickened his pace as he walked towards it,
Spiegel ran after as she remembered she really had to do a thing not
always mentioned by authors, and Sam marched briskly after them,
dragging Frodo behind him. Gulible greeted the bouncer as an old
friend and Spiegel scurried past him looking for the closest loo. The
guide turned around with a great smile as he said to the bouncer: "And
this is the Ringbearer." Sam had just reached the door and was panting
heavily. "I'm afraid," he gasped, "I'm afraid I just strangled the
Ringbearer."
* Of course bats aren't rodents, really. But this particular one;
long-eared, long-toothed and carrying a magnificent carrot, could
certainly pass for one.
Öjevind Lång
>friends, it is my gret honour to present you with the last instalment
>in the saga of the ring as Tolkie *knew* it should have been. it has
>been a pleasure to write, i hoop some of you will enjoy reading it,
>too. /Tamf
>
>-----------------------------
>THE STARS OF CIRITH UNGALLANT
[snip]
>youssss?" he cried, fearing the worst. "We're coming... soon,
>Gulible," answered Sam in a muffled voice, and some minutes afterwards
>they emerged from a back alley, Spiegel rearranging her parcels with
>elaborate care. "Look, Frodo," she said at last, handing him a small
>paper bag. "I bought you one after all." Frodo dried his tears and
>opened the present. "It's beautiful!" he exclaimed, suddenly happy
>again. "May I put it on now?" "If you wish, Master," said Sam
>solemnly. "And I'll take the leash, if you allow, Sir."
[snip]
*LOLOLOLOL*
>Loud music and cheers erupted from a palace-like building at the end
>of the street. Gulible quickened his pace as he walked towards it,
>Spiegel ran after as she remembered she really had to do a thing not
>always mentioned by authors, and Sam marched briskly after them,
>dragging Frodo behind him. Gulible greeted the bouncer as an old
>friend and Spiegel scurried past him looking for the closest loo. The
>guide turned around with a great smile as he said to the bouncer: "And
>this is the Ringbearer." Sam had just reached the door and was panting
>heavily. "I'm afraid," he gasped, "I'm afraid I just strangled the
>Ringbearer."
Poor Frodo! Poor confused Frodo! What next?
Öjevind
Nick Tussing
>friends, it is my gret honour to present you with the last instalment
>in the saga of the ring as Tolkie *knew* it should have been. it has
>been a pleasure to write, i hoop some of you will enjoy reading it,
>too. /Tamf
I found it *passable* ... <nirgytsan>
>
>
>-----------------------------
>THE STARS OF CIRITH UNGALLANT
>-----------------------------
>
Frodo kept tugging at his clothes for no
>obvious reason, except perhaps for a crawling slug he had noticed on
>the roadside. Gulible sighed.
LOL! Poor slug ...
> All of a sudden they found themselves surrounded by
>it all: Flashing lights, flashing dresses, leering orcs singing
>operettas in falsetto. "It's a fallen place, and that's a fact," said
>Sam, regarding a dancing southron of the female variety with all the
>disapproval he could muster. "Yeah, and it's horribly sexist," said
>Spiegel, who was busy condemning a display of imaginatively shaped
>dildos.
>
This bit is starting to give me nightmares.
>At the call of Gulible they ran to a store of leatherwares where Frodo
>sat in the innermost corner, refusing to come out. "They're mine,
>precious! We wants them!" he screamed whenever someone tried to take
>away the studded collar and leash he was clutching.
ROTFLMBW(*)O
>They did their best to mingle with the Disgillians, in order to better
>understand their culture, they all agreed. "The bush... the barsh will
>not be burned against the wall, come the revolution," said Sam loudly
Nice to know that Sam isn't a deviationist...
"It's beautiful!" he exclaimed, suddenly happy
>again. "May I put it on now?" "If you wish, Master," said Sam
>solemnly. "And I'll take the leash, if you allow, Sir."
As above.
This is the
>original entertainment district, of which all other glitzy places are
>mere copies.
But a child's toy or a slave's flattery....
They say a new position is discovered every day here." He
>glanced at Sam and Spiegel. "With certain restraints, of course.
>Sadam."
Truly eViol.
"I'm afraid," he gasped, "I'm afraid I just strangled the
>Ringbearer."
Luckily, Frodo has nine lives ...
--
Count Menelvagor the Slayer of Killerbytes, Dragon Balrog Baritone, Lord
High Enervator of the Empire of Psot, Editor of Sauron's Diary, and All that
other Goond Struff, Member, TEUNC
Groly to Tyope, and Deeath to Google!
Mailandnews.com: Psotting at the Speed of Quicksand!!
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Killfile RL.
Raven
news:1a308bce.01070...@posting.google.com...
> "I'm afraid I just strangled the Ringbearer."
Ooo. Third time. Does third time pay for all, or did I really,
unwittingly or unwittedly, start a trend some chapters back? Shall
Frodo die in every other chapter that he appears in, and be revived in
the remaining ones?
<sharpens axes>
But it was the death of Saruman in the Wizard's Vale that gave me the
idea (and the courage) to snuff out Frodo.
First I wipe out Frodo. Then Öjevind does. Now Tamf. This is the
Scändunåviøn Cånspiröcy, a subset of the Nördæk one. Muahahahaha!
Ramn.
Count Menelvagor
> First I wipe out Frodo. Then Öjevind does. Now Tamf. This is the
> Scändunåviøn Cånspiröcy, a subset of the Nördæk one. Muahahahaha!
It must be some bloodthirsty Viking thing...
Mia Kalogjera
> It must be some bloodthirsty Viking thing...
Oh my god, they killed Frodo! The VIKINGS!
Cheers,
Mia
--
Imagination is power.
Count Menelvagor
> Count Menelvagor wrote:
>
> > It must be some bloodthirsty Viking thing...
>
> Oh my god, they killed Frodo! The VIKINGS!
Lickily, he can revived quicker than you can say "Deus ex machina."