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King Theoden muttered: "So it begins." Drops of
jello began falling from the sky. "What witchery
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is this?" Pippin wondered: "Are the eagles coming?"
"No," bellowed the Balrog, "for I devoured them!"
"Propaganda.", Gimli jeered, crushing the inch high 'Balrog'.
(Well, the pricy miniature of him at least)!
He was then promptly ejected from Games Workshop.
Facing a lifetime ban, he wondered how he
could best wield his DWARVEN RING to wreak
havoc on the stupid Elves who outdrank him.
"Cry 'Havoc'," he cried, "and let slip the
girdle of War!" He knew they tended to
worry about their keen fashion sense, or lack
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abdominal fat. "I, Gimli, bellyflop champion of all
the Olympic Games, hereby display my grizzled pizzle
fo' shizzle!” The hobbits were shocked and covered
their feet lest the vulgarity bleach their hairs
into a mottled shade or indigo, not at
all unlike a lovely shade of the sky
above the dúnedain torched Morgûl Vale. The smoke,
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from Gandalf's pipe had a peculiar odor. "Hey
I have crippling glaucoma!" the smelly wizard blurted.
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"Us, too!" shouted the hobbits. "Pass that over
here so we can use it to see
if any of our dear friends would like
to smoke out with Gandolf and cast some
Hobbit to stoned spells on this magic gathering
of free spirits and rebel scum. Sauron was
meanwhile slaving washing dishes in Galadriel's kitchen, mocked
by the ringwraiths, who had secured positions as
health inspectors for the tri-forest area, making
them free to roam around and harass farmers,
turning their cows inside out and convincing them
that they needed to scrub the exposed colons
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reeking like the filth of ten thousand orcs.
In the meantime, Melkor was plotting his return,
having forgotten he was just Morgoth these days,
and that he really didn't exist anymore, having
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forgotten which elves called him what. "Good riddance
to that evil dictator, I would rather have
and good night,” the elves had said gaily
as they outdrank a dozen dwarves without consequence.
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Or so it seemed.... for consequences indeed waited
, half a dozen spiders from Mirkwood lurking to
the right of everyone, ready to pounce upon
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Nori, Dori, Snori, Balin, Bombur, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer,
and Twisty, an Elf with a Dwarf fetish
. The spiders ate the drunken elves, saving the
pointy ears to make little party hats with
The next time they gathered together in Mirkwood.
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