~A Reflection of "The Two Towers" from the diaries of legendary ladies~
Just as I had suspected, orcs had decided to run amuck all over Rohan and some of the riders got sidetracked, strangled, squished, sworded, ran off the path and de-saddled. I have been crying my eyes out over the death of King Theoden's heir cause he was a nice guy, while King Theoden kinda just sits there with an eerie glow in his eyes. What a jerk!
The next day to follow, I've been keeping close to Theoden for comfort and Eomer has been there for Rohan's people. Grima however has been creeping me out. I keep telling myself that Grima has those tears in his bloodshot eyes for the great sorrow on our lands but I'm pretty it's from me poking his eyes. He looks kinda pale and unnatural, like he's really just drunk. But what am I saying? For certain Theoden looks even worse. As a matter of fact he just looks plain dead.
I'm troubled and I look out across the lands and feel a warm breeze from the West. Then all at once I spy some newcomers riding up. I see that they brought a wizard. I'm trying to just observe when this Gandalf drives out Theoden's demon which I discover was actually Saruman! That piece of shit's gonna pay! Hello King Theoden, glad to have you back. By the way, your son has perished and you ordered some unholy, god-awful skin cream and you gotta send it back. Grima also managed to grime his mitts all over me, and we're fresh out of dairy products because all the cows are missing.
Aragorn is acting really weird. I suppose I should smile and pretend that I know why the hell he's hanging out with an elf and a dwarf. He's kinda cute. I'm a little fascinated. To a certain extent. At least Grima isn't still hanging around. I'm gonna patch up these holes in my bower walls and take a much needed hot bath.
The day of the King's son funeral arrives. I'm not speaking to anyone and I've been crying all day and feel so empty. Theoden is beside himself. Such grief upon the land, in this kingdom, at this time. Still, at least, Grima isn't hanging around. Aragorn is starting to piss me off.
A half-assed plan to head for Helm's Deep is underway and I'll be damned if wargs didn't eat some of the riders. Aragorn went over a cliffside. I'm stuck here in this cave. This is the time to really consider taking my chances in the embrace of Grima's obsessive gnarly arms and camp out at Saruman's fortress, or just hang out in this cave until the buzzards or Nazguls find a way in. . .Nah!
Theoden is still possessed, I'm sure of it! I'm wondering why he's getting all geared up. All is hopeless. No wait, Aragorn did seem to come back from the dead. He took a spill and came into Helm's Deep before this great battle we're supposed to have. Maybe if someone can fall from a cliff and survive, there's a good chance that a small number of people, backed into a cave with pitiful military means can defeat thousands of angry monster orcs and win the day? Ah what am I saying? Of course we're doomed! If the Riders and the Wizard were around it would be different. It would be believable. But they're just not here. It figures. It's so dark outside. Yeah, we're pretty screwed. So long cruel world.
Lastest entry in my diary: I could never understand what Grima saw in that long-haired freak from Isengard. Why did I get stuck with Aragorn?
~Eowyn's Lament II~
~A Reflection of "The Return of the King" from the diaries of legendary ladies~
~A Reflection of "The Return of the King" from the diaries of legendary ladies~
Still a little fuzzy, can't remember when we got back to King Theoden's Hall but somehow we're all there. I'm taking notes on the fact that we all seem to be celebrating something. I hand Aragorn a strong drink in hopes he shuts up before Gimli notices and asks me where I got the booze. Legolas is being weird and drinking Gimli under the table. Then that elf starts dancing around and asking me if I will let him style my hair and then winks at me! What a weirdie.
News of Saruman's death reaches a lot of people. I can't understand why I wasn't invited to the scene. Met a couple little hairy-footed friends; Merry and Pippin. They're funny. Aragorn seems to be rather annoyed having to hunt them down for a long time and then finding them eating and smoking at the battle scene in front of Saruman's Ent-infested place. Gandalf just has problems everywhere with Pippin and there's an odd struggle over a damned crystal ball.
We head out to Gondor and I have to dress like every other guy, kidnap Merry and ride like hell to get there in time for some much needed orc-killing. Aragorn, the dwarf and the elf head onto Gondor by taking the scenic route. I seriously wonder about their sanity and their sense of direction. What the fuck?
Huge battle underway and where the friggin' hell did they get those mammoth creatures? Holy shit! And here we thought ten thousand orcs were noisy. Hmmph! Not even! Saruman really has missed out on the big picture, because this is where he needed to be, in Minas Tirith and possessing these jokers! What the hell did he ever see in our little nowhere place? The mind boggles.
Merry is almost smushed to death and I get in a few good ones on that shithead witch-king bad guy. I'm wondering if whether or not the bad guys got these Nazgul flying lizards from the Loch Ness supply. I got into an intense battle with the stupid witch-king. I stabbed his face after he made a stupid comment about my gender. What a pervert!
His head imploded. That's right IMPLODED! As in condensed itself into nothing. As if he had really been from the center of the earth where the air pressure can crush skulls. It was kinda neat how he did that. Of course, now I'm wounded. I pass out.
I awake and there's this guy just staring at me. I walk around at night looking for any kind of a map that will explain this set-up called Minas Tirith. I wonder if that's Esperanto for Many Turns. Might as well be called the Spiraling Stair Street and Wall Tilt-A-Whril. It's given me the whirly-goddamnits! No wonder that Stewart guy just flung himself off the side. He couldn't find a way out of the maze!
Still weak and I suspect that I have something wrong with my back, shoulder, hip and kneecaps. The guy who keeps staring at me is acting really weird. I wonder what he wants. I see Aragorn made it and he's crowned the king of Gondor. I know there was a volcanic eruption and I missed it. I come all this way and miss the really good stuff. That pisses me off to no end! It's fucking retarded.
News of Saruman's death reaches a lot of people. I can't understand why I wasn't invited to the scene. Met a couple little hairy-footed friends; Merry and Pippin. They're funny. Aragorn seems to be rather annoyed having to hunt them down for a long time and then finding them eating and smoking at the battle scene in front of Saruman's Ent-infested place. Gandalf just has problems everywhere with Pippin and there's an odd struggle over a damned crystal ball.
We head out to Gondor and I have to dress like every other guy, kidnap Merry and ride like hell to get there in time for some much needed orc-killing. Aragorn, the dwarf and the elf head onto Gondor by taking the scenic route. I seriously wonder about their sanity and their sense of direction. What the fuck?
Huge battle underway and where the friggin' hell did they get those mammoth creatures? Holy shit! And here we thought ten thousand orcs were noisy. Hmmph! Not even! Saruman really has missed out on the big picture, because this is where he needed to be, in Minas Tirith and possessing these jokers! What the hell did he ever see in our little nowhere place? The mind boggles.
Merry is almost smushed to death and I get in a few good ones on that shithead witch-king bad guy. I'm wondering if whether or not the bad guys got these Nazgul flying lizards from the Loch Ness supply. I got into an intense battle with the stupid witch-king. I stabbed his face after he made a stupid comment about my gender. What a pervert!
His head imploded. That's right IMPLODED! As in condensed itself into nothing. As if he had really been from the center of the earth where the air pressure can crush skulls. It was kinda neat how he did that. Of course, now I'm wounded. I pass out.
I awake and there's this guy just staring at me. I walk around at night looking for any kind of a map that will explain this set-up called Minas Tirith. I wonder if that's Esperanto for Many Turns. Might as well be called the Spiraling Stair Street and Wall Tilt-A-Whril. It's given me the whirly-goddamnits! No wonder that Stewart guy just flung himself off the side. He couldn't find a way out of the maze!
Still weak and I suspect that I have something wrong with my back, shoulder, hip and kneecaps. The guy who keeps staring at me is acting really weird. I wonder what he wants. I see Aragorn made it and he's crowned the king of Gondor. I know there was a volcanic eruption and I missed it. I come all this way and miss the really good stuff. That pisses me off to no end! It's fucking retarded.
Genre: Adventure/Comedy Spoof
Rating: PG-13, language
Written: 2005
Rating: PG-13, language
Written: 2005
Ha! You did say you could tell a joke, alright! Holy SHIT, can you tell a joke!! Like one after another firing like a Phalanx Close-In Weapon System Gatling Gun, but faster and more accurate to boot...and that’s saying something!! As soon as I stop laughing, I might just be able to catch a breath, j’espere...Or should I be an Esperantist and use the Latin form instead, all edumacated like: sperare?!
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