LOTR E-text: Book VI, Chapter 4
Tamfiiris Gloruloke
a bunch of them when i first read through it, but hopefully managed to pick
most of them out. anyway. i couldn't stay away from one teeny resurrection,
but it's barely noticeable, really. hope y'all enjoy! long live the dragons!
---Tamf ]
======= Fields of Golden and Green ========
"What are they?" Aragon asked and stared out over the milling crowds. Their
joyous squeals and raucous hollers reached even the highest tower, their
brightly coloured garments could not be ignored by the most colourblind of
absent minds. Gondor(tm) had indeed been invaded.
"Don't worry about it, dear," Arwen said and put her arm over a small portion
of his shoulders. "The people of Mordor have a right to be jolly after
decades of hardship and high culture, haven't they? If they want to look
outrageous, so be it. Now put on that costume and let me have a look at you!"
Aragon sighed and wriggled into a pair of very green tights. "I can't say I
like performing for Orcs," he said. "Not to mention the Southrons, they laugh
and make obscene gestures at me." Arwen gave him a motherly smile. "It's
their culture, darling!" she explained. "And remember, they aren't called
Orcs or Southrons anymore. Keep your manners and call them Mordorians -
please?"
She helped him button his shirt, a voluminous tent gleaming venomously like
the skin of a serpent dying from envy, and the matching vest in avocado.
Aragon gave himself a quick glance in the wall-covering mirror, then looked
away with a grimace. "I don't like this," he said. "I don't like it at all."
He attempted to make the puppy-eyed face that made her heart melted her like
marshmellows in a campfire, but all the green seemed to take away its effect.
"Yes, my snake, it /is/ necessary," Arwen said firmly. "We couldn't possibly
throw away a golden opportunity like this. Ariëlle has hinted that we might
get even higher positions here, if we perform well and she decides to go on a
mission to save the world or something. Who knows, we might be King and Queen
of Gondor(tm) yet!" She threw off her cape, and stood before him in a silver
bathing suit and feathers and little else. "And until that day, we will be
the Fairy King and Queen of Goldywood(tm)." She gave a wry smile. "Isn't it
amazing how these concept writers can twist and pervert the most simple
idea?"
"There will be no twisting or perversion in /my/ Gondor(tm)!" Ariëlle
exclaimed cheerfully as she barged into the room without knocking. "Unless
they can come up with a new way of twisting that fits the Park's concept, of
course. Hey, what do you think about these? 'Buy your own Ring of
Destruction'." She held out a tray of brightly coloured rings and a wizardly
doll that looked somewhat like Gandalf. "He's fully de- and reflatable," she
said proudly as Arwen reached out to touch his rubbery features.
"Uh - wasn't it called the Ring of _Seduction_?" Aragon asked serpently,
shifting uncomfortably in his new costume. Ariëlle just gave him a stare.
"What kind of place do you think this is?" she asked sternly. "And may I
kindly request you not to adjust your pants in public? It's not fitting." She
looked at her watch, which was large and sparkly and decorated with a
miniature replica of Gondor(tm). "All right, lovedoves, it's time," she said
with a grin. "Break a leg, huh?"
Aragorn put on his mask, which, at three times the size of his head was in
perfect proportion with his body. "Ho ho ho. I'm a fat, happy wood elf," he
said grimly, and
slithered out to face the people, Arwen balancing behind him on heels high
enough to suit any Fairy Queen. Snip, snap, snout, went the cameras of the
Mordorians, and their money tickled merrily into the food stalls and souvenir
shops of Gondor(tm).
***
Ariëlle returned to her office. It was brightly lit by force of the great
windows covering the entire wall overlooking the theme park. It was also
eerily quiet, due to the sound-proofing properties of the same windows.
Ariëlle, undisputed heiress to the magical kingdom of Gonor(tm), sat
leisurely down at her desk and started looking through all the plans for new
merchandise and better rides. She loved plans, they always seemed to come out
in her favour.
"That's a good one," she muttered softly as she examined the suggestion of
elongating Boromir's Ghostride with reappearing hobbit toons as well. "Yes,
hobbits are good for many things," she mused, and pushed her Silmarilan
buzzer button. Morrie and Pipsqueak came in at once, Pipsqueak's face
brimming with adolescent love, Morrie still with a calculating look in his
eyes. "Any news of the Halflings?" she asked.
Pipsqueak jumped up and down and squeaked excitedly. Morrie gave him a cold
stare. "They're safe, Madame," he informed. "Frodo is filled to the brim with
drugs and ravin' delirious. Sam and Spiegel are... uh... in their room." He
grimaced. "Kalessin has said his union will contact us about compensation for
the trip. Apparently, Frodo made dying noises the entire time, and the other
two... well."
"Thank you, my loyal Three-quarts," Ariëlle said pleasantly. "I shall take
care of everything. You have served me well." She followed them out with her
gaze, and smiled as she saw Pipsqueak lean on Morrie in a swooning fashion.
"So susceptible," she thought, absent-mindedly fondling her Silmaril.
***
In Mordor, the colours of Death and Passion were in power. Volcanic fire
leapt from ramshackle house to abandoned car-wreck, black smoke packing
itself thicker than ever in the sky. All living things had fled the land for
the pleasures of Gondor(tm) and other attractions. The ones that were left
were the half-living, the scavenging creatures; sneering rats, great, buzzing
flies and cockroaches, and spiders.
"Veer iz hee, my darlinks?" The woman veiled in black paused and, striking a
decorative pose against the burning sky, followed her scuttling companions
with her gaze. They were headed towards a mound of shrapnel greater than the
others, a dazzling creation of broken steel reinforcement and glass
splinters, a sculpture protesting the destruction of war made by no man's
hand. "Aiii!" wailed Shelob, and ran elegantly towards the wreckage.
One little spider can do nothing, perhaps. But hundreds, or thousands,
nourished on flies grown fat on junk food and fighting, can accomplish
plenty. Shelob's black warriors spun and fastened, pulled and moved, until
the mound was opened. Many perished as unstable bits gave way and tumbled,
but they were all ready to fulfill the last request of their Liberal Lady.
"Sztop!" she called out suddenly. "You leaf me nov, all ov you. You hev been
vonderful." She waited for the spiders to disappear, then gingerly made her
way up the pile.
All was still.
"Szveethart? Veer ar you?" Shelob murmured softly. She listened. Was that a
moan she heard? A moan known to her and loved by her, from happier times than
these? She walked around the last unbroken wall of Sauron's tower until she
found what she was looking for. It was a door, amazingly whole and still
sealed shut. The Spider Queen reached out her hand to touch it, and
soundlessly, the door swung open. Shelob gave a tentative smile and entered.
"Aglunph," Sauron responded eloquently as his saviour carefully dragged him
out of the room and away from the disintegrating heap. She laid the former
Dark Lord out on the ground and kissed his forehead with her sticky lips.
Slowly he opened his lidless eyes and looked at Shelob, then let them linger
at the remnants of his tower. "I've always wanted eventful dreams," he said.
"But don't you think this is a little bit over the top?"
"Shussh, darlink," Shelob hissed lovingly, and stroked his hair. "Your tover
waz razer vell built, vas it not? But zis iz zee ent ov it, I vear." Sauron
winced and sighed. "I guess that is so," he said. "My plan has failed, and I
have failed with it. You should have let me rest in my tower, my dear."
Shelob tutted and gently shook his head. Sauron groaned with pain. "But don't
you szee?" she asked smilingly. "Nov, at last, you are vree." She stared at
him and saw his features soften, as gradually many great loads left his weary
shoulders. "I don't feel the incessant need to wogah!" he exclaimed. "And...
the Orcs! I don't need to control them, not one little bit. I feel great!" He
tried to sit up, but fell back with a thump. Yet he was still not beaten. "I
feel like singing!" he said, and drew in his breath deeply. Shelob gently hit
his head with a rock, then lifted up her unconscious love and went to search
for shelter in the wasteland.
***
"What did she say to you?" asked Sam after the interview with Ariëlle was
over. Spiegel only smiled dreamily and went over to the mirror. "Do you think
my hair looks best free or tied up?" she said as she started brushing. "Your
hair looks great no matter how," Sam stated matter-of-factly, and added, for
emphasis, "And that's a fact." He sat meaningfully down on the bed, but
Spiegel appeared not to notice. "So what are you doing tonight, then?" she
asked.
"Mm...me?" Sam was flabbergasted. "I thought I was going with you to see the
Parade(tm)... together with you," he explained. Spiegel finished brushing and
opened a box of makeup which she started applying with great skill. "I'm
sorry, Sam," she said. "I'm going to be /in/ the parade. Ariëlle has offered
me work here as a Beauty Queen. Imagine that - me, a Miss Gondor(tm)! Who
would have thought?" She decorated her eyes in silence for a while, then
turned around to look at Sam. She was just in time to see the door closing
softly behind him.
"How are ye, Master Frodo?" Sam asked, unexpectedly feeling a deep longing
for his old, simple life in the Shire. Frodo started, opened his eyes, and
giggled. "I had such a wonderful dream!" he said. "I was hatching giant
butterflies from my stomach. Oh, it's you, Sam," he added as he slowly came
somewhat to his senses.
"Yes," said Sam. "I'm glad that you are here with me," he muttered inaudibly.
"Here at the end of all things, Master."
"I say, Sam," Frodo exclaimed jofully. "You do look a bit like a
caterpiallar! But whenever did you decide to colour your hair purple? You
look most droll!" He smiled contently and sunk down on his pillow.
--
Tamf
Roses are red and violets are blue
All words are sacred and all prophets true.
Banazir the Jedi Hobbit
> [here it is, then! hopefully without too many grammatical mistakes - i found
> a bunch of them when i first read through it, but hopefully managed to pick
> most of them out. anyway. i couldn't stay away from one teeny resurrection,
> but it's barely noticeable, really. hope y'all enjoy! long live the dragons!
> ---Tamf ]
>
>
> ======= Fields of Golden and Green ========
>
> She gave a wry smile. "Isn't it amazing how these concept writers can twist
> and pervert the most simple idea?"
Amazing and horrifying lal atonce!
> "There will be no twisting or perversion in /my/ Gondor(tm)!" Ariėlle
> exclaimed cheerfully as she barged into the room without knocking. "Unless
> they can come up with a new way of twisting that fits the Park's concept, of
> course. Hey, what do you think about these? 'Buy your own Ring of
> Destruction'." She held out a tray of brightly coloured rings and a wizardly
> doll that looked somewhat like Gandalf. "He's fully de- and reflatable," she
> said proudly as Arwen reached out to touch his rubbery features.
Hrmph, and they tell me Arielle ISN'T eViol!
A complete sellout to the Mageic Kinkdom (tm), is whuht!
> "That's a good one," she muttered softly as she examined the suggestion of
> elongating Boromir's Ghostride with reappearing hobbit toons as well.
LOL!
> Shelob tutted and gently shook his head. Sauron groaned with pain. "But don't
> you szee?" she asked smilingly. "Nov, at last, you are vree." She stared at
> him and saw his features soften, as gradually many great loads left his weary
> shoulders. "I don't feel the incessant need to wogah!" he exclaimed. "And...
> the Orcs! I don't need to control them, not one little bit. I feel great!"
This meminds me of Magnifico at the end of Asimov's _Second Foundation_.
> He tried to sit up, but fell back with a thump. Yet he was still not
> beaten. "I feel like singing!" he said, and drew in his breath deeply.
> Shelob gently hit his head with a rock, then lifted up her unconscious love
> and went to search for shelter in the wasteland.
Sauron Lives!
Gret cahpter, Moo, and another fitting end to end the ending.
--
Banazir
(are we scouring xxet?)
Öjevind Lång
[snip]
> Aragon sighed and wriggled into a pair of very green tights. "I can't say
I
> like performing for Orcs," he said. "Not to mention the Southrons, they
laugh
> and make obscene gestures at me." Arwen gave him a motherly smile. "It's
> their culture, darling!" she explained. "And remember, they aren't called
> Orcs or Southrons anymore. Keep your manners and call them Mordorians -
> please?"
LOL - excellent.
[snip]
> "There will be no twisting or perversion in /my/ Gondor(tm)!" Ariëlle
> exclaimed cheerfully as she barged into the room without knocking. "Unless
> they can come up with a new way of twisting that fits the Park's concept,
of
> course. Hey, what do you think about these? 'Buy your own Ring of
> Destruction'." She held out a tray of brightly coloured rings and a
wizardly
> doll that looked somewhat like Gandalf. "He's fully de- and reflatable,"
she
> said proudly as Arwen reached out to touch his rubbery features.
>
> "Uh - wasn't it called the Ring of _Seduction_?" Aragon asked serpently,
> shifting uncomfortably in his new costume. Ariëlle just gave him a stare.
> "What kind of place do you think this is?" she asked sternly. "And may I
> kindly request you not to adjust your pants in public? It's not fitting."
That's right! Let us keep the e-text project true to its accustomed high
moral tone.
[snip]
> "That's a good one," she muttered softly as she examined the suggestion of
> elongating Boromir's Ghostride with reappearing hobbit toons as well.
So Boromir(TM) has returned? Is uppose that with evil Gandalf out of the
way, there is no one to stop him.
[snip]
> "Aglunph," Sauron responded eloquently as his saviour carefully dragged
him
> out of the room and away from the disintegrating heap. She laid the former
> Dark Lord out on the ground and kissed his forehead with her sticky lips.
> Slowly he opened his lidless eyes and looked at Shelob, then let them
linger
> at the remnants of his tower. "I've always wanted eventful dreams," he
said.
> "But don't you think this is a little bit over the top?"
The apogee of the chapter.
Good work, Tamfy!
Öjevind
Count Menelvagor
> Tamfiiris Gloruloke <kia...@hotpop.com> wrote in message news:<tdjneug51tjgn7ma6...@4ax.com>...
> > [here it is, then! hopefully without too many grammatical mistakes - i found
> > a bunch of them when i first read through it, but hopefully managed to pick
> > most of them out. anyway. i couldn't stay away from one teeny resurrection,
> > but it's barely noticeable, really. hope y'all enjoy! long live the dragons!
> > ---Tamf ]
Ah, cauhgt a couple of small erorr thingies:
"made her heart melted her" > "melted her heart" (?)
and
"Shelob shook his head" > "shook her head" (?)
Everything else looks spiffy.
> > "There will be no twisting or perversion in /my/ Gondor(tm)!" Ariëlle
> > exclaimed cheerfully as she barged into the room without knocking. "Unless
> > they can come up with a new way of twisting that fits the Park's concept, of
> > course. Hey, what do you think about these? 'Buy your own Ring of
> > Destruction'." She held out a tray of brightly coloured rings and a wizardly
> > doll that looked somewhat like Gandalf. "He's fully de- and reflatable," she
> > said proudly as Arwen reached out to touch his rubbery features.
>
> Hrmph, and they tell me Arielle ISN'T eViol!
> A complete sellout to the Mageic Kinkdom (tm), is whuht!
So Corbin was right fater lal (the first Corbin)?
> > He tried to sit up, but fell back with a thump. Yet he was still not
> > beaten. "I feel like singing!" he said, and drew in his breath deeply.
> > Shelob gently hit his head with a rock, then lifted up her unconscious love
> > and went to search for shelter in the wasteland.
>
> Sauron Lives!
We note that Tmaf didn't have the heart to keep Sauron dead. ]:-)X___
Tamfiiris Gloruloke
and Sky:
>Ah, cauhgt a couple of small erorr thingies:
>"made her heart melted her" > "melted her heart" (?)
ah, one of my incredibles. i believe that should be 'made her hart melt'. is
Steuard or Sharpo paying attention?
>and
>"Shelob shook his head" > "shook her head" (?)
no - she shook *Sauron's* head, which was why he groaned.
>We note that Tmaf didn't have the heart to keep Sauron dead. ]:-)X___
there are certain things one simply does not do. };8)
--
Tamf
"Dead men don't need CHOKLIT". (Morwen)
Count Menelvagor
> Slowly, slowly as the kauri tree did Count Menelvagor rise between the Earth
> and Sky:
>
> >Ah, cauhgt a couple of small erorr thingies:
>
> >"made her heart melted her" > "melted her heart" (?)
>
> ah, one of my incredibles. i believe that should be 'made her hart melt'. is
> Steuard or Sharpo paying attention?
>
"If I onyl had a heart ..."
> >and
> >"Shelob shook his head" > "shook her head" (?)
>
> no - she shook *Sauron's* head, which was why he groaned.
>
He used ti like it when she did that ...
> >We note that Tmaf didn't have the heart to keep Sauron dead. ]:-)X___
>
> there are certain things one simply does not do. };8)
We <heart> Sauron ...
Steuard Jensen
<brvueuoan7i6lt6gr...@4ax.com>:
[E-text typo:]
> >"made her heart melted her" > "melted her heart" (?)
> ah, one of my incredibles. i believe that should be 'made her hart
> melt'. is Steuard or Sharpo paying attention?
I've generally tried to keep the text files on my site in their
"original unaltered form", leaving later editing to O. Sharp's nicely
HTMLized versions. That's a bit of a problem at the moment, though,
as O. is apparently completely snowed under by Real Life(TM) at the
moment (and has been for quite some time). I recommend telepathically
implanting the correction in the back of his mind, ready to emerge
as soon as he deals with your chapter. Or, failing that, you could
just send him email, which might have roughly the same effect. :)
> >We note that Tmaf didn't have the heart to keep Sauron dead.
> there are certain things one simply does not do.
I guess it was just the part of his personality bound to the Ring that
Gandalf felt die... which, happily, means that he'll be safely out of
the main action of the story despite being alive. Sounds pretty good
to me; I like the way you handled things. :) (I'm still curious to
see how and if the Aragorn/Arielle conflict over Gondor's rulership
turns out, but there's certainly still time for those questions to be
addressed... or it could be left to the untold future of
Muddle-earth.)
Steuard Jensen
Mark Constantino
This deserves a reply. Causes often have causes themselves, and the deep look
for the bottom.
One reason would be, that being fat is better than being insane. It also gives
the fat motivation to look outside the cattle pen.
Mark Constantino
I've proven both a trait of adiposity [look it up] and a trait of insanity.
What more do you want?
Mark Constantino
>What more do you want?
Criminal offensivesses, with motive, intent, and evidence of a crime? Primary
node's rules of course.