Lord Of THE Rings

[quacker backer]

euroclone:

I just saw one of your Subuteo (is that how you spell it?) players that was wearing a tube top...what up with that??

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You don't appreciate a lot of stuff in school until you get older. Little things like being spanked every day by a middle-aged woman: Stuff you pay good money for later in life.

-- Emo Phillips

[Catfish]

Van, grab yourself an extra large bag of racks out of the bin there.

And why was just about everybody in that movie smoking weed?


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WARREN: Well crackfish then go ahead and move on to the nation that does a better job of "legaslating."

[Van [down by the river]]

Quaker doesn't seem to have a great grasp of where to situate his posts in order to maximize his chances of having the person he's addressing actually see said post.

Sincerely, a rarely flummoxed Marcus Allen.

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Didn't we know? Didn't we feel it?

Time, it seemed to stop outside our window...As we ran down the freeway, to be free.....of everthing...

[Jokey]

An excellent work in progress sure to end up in the archives!

RACK you Van!

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Don't blame me, I only do what my rice krispies tell me to.

[IBystander]

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Catfish:
And why was just about everybody in that movie smoking weed?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Bad frost wiped out Oz's poppy crop, and no one could afford what was left except the dwarves -- why do you think Moira was really overrun?



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"If there's anything worse than someone who doesn't think before they hit SUBMIT, it's a self-propping hypocrite who cares more about image than what's truly on their mind." - Lion

[Van [down by the river]]

~A few weeks had passed since The Nine departed Rivendell to set out at last on their journey. In the interim Mrs Py avoided going back into the house, busying herself with gardening and thoughts of a new life. Being a High Elf she was able to subsist on the bounty of her garden and a tin of Junior Mints she'd buried in her shroom garden. She also avoided going back into the house for the simple reason that she knew Py would never rouse himself from the Barca Boofer long enough to go find her and chain her up again.

"Out of sight, out of mind, and all that..." she reasoned.

In reality, the main reason she avoided reentering her home was that the one and only time she'd noticed any activity at all in the house in the past fortnight was when Py'd sent out for KFC, with all the fixins.

"The House Of Methane", she'd come to derisively dub her beautiful abode.

Finally it came to pass that one sunny morn her reverie was disturbed by the belching fumes and mechanical cacophony of an enormous moving van rumbling up her driveway. Her curiosity getting the best of her, she went inside to "check out the haps."

Bitch wished she hadn't, lordy, lordy!

The house was mostly empty, bereft of any evidence of anyone having lived there lo these thousands of years. Empty, except for one item: Her ornate vanity, conspicuously sitting in the middle of the great room. Upon the vanity there was an envelope, smeared with gravy (or pepperoni grease, historians have yet to come to final agreement upon this compelling point of contention.).~

(WARNING! WARNING!! The Editor is in the midst of engaging in a cheesy balancing act of attempting to honor Dr Bob's "Python must die in the third act of any Smack Chat drama!" tradition while also remaining true to the destiny of Elrond, errr, Python, according to Tolkien and the Editor's own personal wishes...)

~Anyway, this is what the letter said....~

"Hey, Ho!

I can't believe how big of a dumbass you are!!! I AM an Elven King, ya know!! Didn't you pay ANY attention in school? What are Elves known for, Slunt? Well, among other things, KILLER HEARING!!!

What, you think I didn't hear you coming on to Filthy? You think I didn't hear you ask Vandalf to take you with them? You think I didn't hear Vandalf throw that bone to you about Dr Bob's little fucker "We gotta kill Py, the third act is coming up!" rule?

Hell, woman, look around! LSU might finally be on to something! We're even getting a half way decent NBA franchise next year and I don't mind telling you that I find that Baron Davis kinda dreamy! You think I'm going to go "Kenny" from "South Park" now??

Well, since you obviously didn't pay attention in Elf School let me clue you in to something else about the Elves. We don't die, ever. At least not from natural causes, anyway. We live basically forever here in Middle Turd, until finally we receive the summons from Cirdan The Shipwright that it's time to toodle on down to his place at The Grey Havens, where he then ferries us acrosss the Western Seas to Valinor, a place where nothing and nobody can touch us and we go on to live free of care forever.

As you know, Cirdan's my boy, in the Zy sense. As such, he's let me know that he's gone an awful long time without any High Elf stank, and he's getting pretty much tired of rubbing one out to "Celebrity Sleuth" pics of Shakira and Joan Of Arc. I let Cirdan know of my treacherous bitch wife's plans to knock me off, in conjunction with that insane gynocologist, Dr Bob.

We decided to bend the rules a little bit, to help each other out.

Here's what's going to happen. In exchange for letting me get to Valinor WAY earlier than I was scheduled to, and thus cheating the "Kill Py In The Third Act" bullcrap while still placating the murderously diabolical Dr Bob, I've agreed to let Cirdan have you as his own personal Lighthouse Ho!

By the time you're reading this I'll already by lying on a beach in Valinor, eating jalapeno poppers and sucking Jim Beam from the nubile belly button of a cajun co-ed I smuggled over with me while you were out in that fucking garden stuffing your piehole with Junior Mints and shrooms.

Also, the fact that you're reading this means that big ol' Guido Halfelven is about to grab you..................NOW!!!"

Too late, Mrs Py attempted to duck and run. Guido quickly threw one of those Shiite Muslim looking terrorist hoods over her head and then he bound her feet and hands and unceremoniously dumped her as if she were a sack of Idaho's Finest in the back of the van. Inscribed on the moving van's flanks was "Grey Havens Shipping", which the shitfaced on shrooms Mrs Py had unfortunately missed as it rumbled past her, or else she would've high tailed it outta there like a banshee...

~Thusly did occur the most unexpected (and convenient) of endings concerning the saga of Python, Last of The Eldar, Most Beloved Of Iluvitar's First Children, The One Who Was There When Isuldur's Bane Gained Its Accursed Name.......... Man, Python was even Liv Tyler's pops!! Python Halfelven, one of the three Great Ringbearers, ended up spending all blissful eternity wearing a straw hat beneath a cabana on a white sandy Valinor beach, debauching himself with beer from a can and cajun cheerleaders. Into the shadowy mists of legend, indeed.~

"Mister Valvenis, all this manly hiking has done wonders for the fair form of your pert behind!", gushed Peehole his manservant, as the Nine traversed yet another verdant valley, now weeks removed from resplendent Rivendell.

"Fucking brown noser!", spat Cuda to Warren, "How come Peehole always gets to follow right behind Valvenis?"

"Silence, you pathetic Jezebels!", hissed Vandalf! "Can you not feel the change in the wind in this valley? Even the stones mark our passing, as if we're being watched. Warren, have you not noticed ANYTHING different recently?"

"Pardon me, Mr Vandalf, but no, the only thing I've noticed is Cuda still has me underpants feeling all squishy from this morning! Tee hee!"

"Those little worthless Nobbit balls of spoo are going to be the death of us all, aye, mark my words!", sneered Zy The Dwarf. "Something is queer here, and I don't just mean these four little reach arounds. We're not welcome here. There is evil here."

"Zy, yes, you and Vandalf are correct.", said Terpy The Elf. "Our passing is being marked, and with no welcome. The trees here have no love for us, and there's a murmuring in the forest. Something dark here is afoot....."

"So, I am correct!", whispered Filthy. "I have travelled far, and in these woods I'm sensing something unfamiliar. It's as if there are spies afoot, even amongst the animals. Strange animals, of a kind I've not seen."

"Not all are so difficult to discern", said Vandalf. "Catfish, have you noticed what I've noticed, starting a week's march from Rivendell?"

"Yes, I have", said Catfish. "The little bugger somehow escaped! He's been tracking us for a fortnight now, flitting from tree to tree, creeping close sometimes, his enormous bulging eyes visible only in the night. I knew you knew he was following us, and so I've kept my silence, watching. My vigilance will not fail."

"Who are they talking about, Mister Valvenis?", asked Peehole, fear creepeing into his simple heart.

"No idea, but how's about we switch places now. I wanna watch you walk now!"

"Mister Valvenis, you flatter me!"

"Shhhhhhhh!!", snapped Vandalf. "Did you hear that, Terpy?"

"Yes", said Terpy the sharp eared Elf, "'Precioussssssssssss, my presciousssssssssss....', clear as a starry night. Fucking Inkydave is near."

"Yes, our old friend Inky has been following us. He will not aproach in broad daylight, but mind you watch yourself at night. He's very stealthy and his hatred of Valvenis knows no bounds. He will not give up until he gets back his 'precious'. Our night guard will be redoubled."

"We have Filthy and Catfish here, two Great Warriors. Terpy here could shoot the raisin out of a squirrel's turd from 1000 yards away. Why not just capture Inky and throttle him?", asked Zy.

"Do not be so quick to condemn, Zy", said Vandalf, "I know not Inky's ultimate fate but my heart tells me that he still has some role to play before all is done. We'll keep an eye on him, but unless he really makes a complete ass out of himself we shall not kill him."

The group watched as Vandalf stooped atop a log, seemingly for hours, dead silent, deep in thought. Finally, Filthy could take it no more.

"Vandalf, what is it? You seem troubled. Yet I sense Inky is not what's causing you such pause."

"Verily, you are correct", replied Vandalf, "There is something darker here than Inky's presence. These woods are being watched, by enemies. That we've all sensed. Yet Euro knows not yet of our journey. There are watchers here not of his bidding, watchers strange to me. They report not to Euro."

"Then my ears have not deceived me," said Terpy, "There are spies here, and not just curious watchers. Who are they, Vandalf? To whom do they report our passing?"

Vandalf whispered, "I wasn't sure, until just last night. My worst fears, come to fruition. While sitting atop yon precipice, deep in thought, I caught it. I heard strange mutterings in the wind. 'He traced their IP addys. Master's personally spoken to 54 of them by phone! He's on to them, he knows who's whose trolls!', I heard the wind gloat!"

"Shrubberman! Shrubberman The White!", cried The Nobbits!

"Yes", Vandalf said, "It is Shrubberman whose evil here we feel. Shrubberman, the Leader of my Council, Master of Ring Lore and long a bulwark in staving off the dark designs of Euro. It has been greatly through the wisdom and craft of Shrubberman that Euro has been contained. I say 'contained', because with Euro you can't stop him, you can only hope to contain him..........Bwaaaahaaaaaa!!"

~Terpy immediately shoots an arrow through Vandalf's pointy hat in response to Vandalf's lame "Sportscenter" quip.~

"Okay, sorry about that, couldn't help myself. Anyway, long I've trusted to my friend and mentor, Shrubberman The White. It seems his fascination with The Dark Arts has finally ensnared him. His love of Board Intrigue was Euro's "in" with Shrubberman. To Shrubberman Euro gave a Palantir, a looking glass stone through which Shrubberman can view glimpses of Euro's plans (or at least that which Euro wishes Shrubberman to see, whether it be true or not), as well as the IP addys and identities of all of us on the Middle Turd Smack boards. Shrubberman, our former greatest strength in fighting evil, has now gone to the dark side, and it is his spies who are watching us in this forest. I fear we are no longer safe here, so....."

~At that exact moment all hell broke loose in the forest, as well as in the mountains above. The two Stone Monsters, Index and Dr Detroit, began their nightly ritual of lobbing giant boulders at each other, back and forth across the mountains, crumbling to smithereens anything in their path of destruction. For centuries these two giants have stood opposite each other astride a Sisyphian mountain of petty ideological differences, and the valley beneath them as well as the nearby mountains all bore the scars of their battles. There was a televised congressional hearing on Affirmative Action that particular evening, and the two stone monoliths were bent on utter destruction this night. The Nine were, in a word, fucked.~

"Quick! Into yonder cave!", cried Vandalf, "We'll be crushed if we tarry any longer outside! To the cave, now!"

~A few hours later the orgy of destruction finally ceased...Vandalf left the cave to see what he could see, and he called the group outside.~

"Okay, those two shitheads just ruined any chance of continuing on in the direction we were heading."

"Which is where?", asked Filthy, "You've never said where we were heading from here."

"My plan", said Vandalf, "was to at the very least head to Lothlorien."

"Lothlorien! Yes!", cried Terpy the Elf.

"Yes, Terpy, to Lothlorien. The Magical Elven Forest, untouched by evil, protected by the Wisdom, Strength And Terrible Unrelenting Power Of Pure Contrianism wielded by the Elven Queen, Innocent Bystander. There we shall assuredly gain council. Endless council. Council, until our collective hair hurts. We now have two choices. Either we try to climb over and through this mess surrounding us and risk having Index and Dr Detroit shit on us again, as well as the risk of being out in the open here, exposed to Shrubberman's evil, or we choose that darker path of which I've only briefly spoken to a few."

At the mention of this other path, Catfish looked up suddenly at Vandalf, concern in his eyes. Zy the Dwarf got a raging hard on, instantly.

"Vandalf, we must not choose the other path. Your peril is too great.", said Catfish.

"Where are they talking about?", whispered Warren to Cuda.

"Moria!! MORIA!! The Sacred Land Of My Boys!", cried Zy!

"Catfish, though I did wish to avoid Moria I fear the choice has been taken from me. The Ringbearer must choose our path."

"What's the big deal about Moria?", asked Valvenis, as all eyes turned to him.

"It is the home of my boys, a wonderland of unparalleled stone work and great magic. I once hung out with Dexter Manley there. He's got huge hands!", said Zy, his chest puffing visibly.

"More to the point, Valvenis," said Vandalf, "it was long ago destroyed and it's now nothing but a shithole of dark oozing tunnels and cavernous holes, populated by ass goblins galore. There is only one entrance, and really it was meant more as an exit than an entrance. It's dark and hidden and shrouded in hair like firn."

"Lemme get this straight," enthused Valvenis, "my choice is between passing through a battle between Index and Dr Detroit or squeezing into a dark, furry shithole leading to oozing dark tunnels and cavernous, gaping pits, and there are lots of ass goblins? Well, spank my monkey and call me Abu! Peehole, grab my bowling shoes, we're heading to Moria! Oh MAMA!!"

"Warren, didja hear that? Ass goblins!", squeeled Cuda.

"Valvenis rocks!", burped Warren.

"Moria it is! So hath chosen the Ringbearer!", intoned Vandalf, with feigned bravado.
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"Moria. Fuck.", thought Vandalf to himself. "Of all the places, why Moria? Why now? I fear I am not yet ready for such a trial."

Catfish, however, knew of Vandalf's peril and could in this instance read his thoughts. Catfish echoed those thoughts. "It had to be dark, oozing holes, didn't it? It always comes back to that shit with you. Because of your being such an unmitigated homosexual we might lose Vandalf, and for what? So you can go play with ass goblins, that's for what. Valvenis, you're such a fag........"


~to be continued...~

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Didn't we know? Didn't we feel it?

Time, it seemed to stop outside our window...As we ran down the freeway, to be free.....of everthing...



[This message has been edited by Van [down by the river] (edited January 19, 2002).]

[Filthy McNastie]

Gotta RACK this...

Even though I know I'm going to end up with more arrows sticking out of me...than Jimmah or Skilla have had cocks sticking into them...(well...maybe not... )...it deserves a humongous...

RACK!

L8.

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[OmegaVerb]

Something concerns me. Not one mention of the wizard-turned-evil ... the one that made Vandalf do the Curly Shuffle on the marble floor. That dude's getting jobbed.

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It's not like you to be so stupid ... Try harder next time.

[Filthy McNastie]

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by OmegaVerb:
Something concerns me. Not one mention of the wizard-turned-evil ... the one that made Vandalf do the Curly Shuffle on the marble floor. That dude's getting jobbed.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

It's Rog...he's Saruman the White...

L8.



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[MDTerrapins]

I will RACK this because I am a blatant publicity whore. However, it would have been nice not to be an elf with homosexual tendencies. Seriously...an elf! How humiliating.

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Fear the Turtle.