NEVER LET THE TRUTH GET IN THE WAY OF A GOOD STORY!
MIDDLE EARTH REVISITED
“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”
Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit is an object of curiosity in the Shire of Pattaya for his wandering ways, though some say the effects of having kept the Ring for so long will betimes mar the The Hobbit’s thoughtfulness. However, he has borrowed his cousin Frodo’s faithful gardener Samwise “Dick” Gamgee whose stubbornness, bravery and loyalty will ensure The Hobbit does not fall victim to his own inherent faults and back-checks.
And so the Dark Lord Sauron Streaker challenges The Fellowship to set upon its quest for his One Ring, but not until our malevolent, brooding and barely audible warlock has commanded this aged man of letters to chronicle our daunting adventure.
Before we have even left the The Shire, we spy the first secret rune, a vividly-coloured cruciform artefact of wood cunningly placed upon the ground. The benign wizard G.I. Gandalf persuades his already-disheartened band to retreat, with cries of “check back, check back!”
We note that Gandalf’s one-time mentor, the apostate Lord Lucan Saruman – the epitome of our saga’s twin themes of the corrupting influence of power and the inevitability of decline - has abused his supernatural powers and is already headed on the thorny path to the second rune. This one takes longer to interpret, especially for a semi-epsilon moron like me, to the extent that I lose sight of the entire expeditionary force whose feats I am supposed to record for posterity.
But all is not lost, and nor am I, for ahead I hear the plaintive cries of a minuscule figure, lost in a sea of towering tapioca – higher than a Hobbit’s knee. But it is not the stout and stalwart Dwarf Gonzalez Gimli swinging his mighty axe. It is the corrupt and miserable creature Really Sadistic Gollum, upon whom I literally stumble. This accursed being is condemned by the evil Dr. Chang to a scavenger’s lifetime of bottom-feeding in the mud and slime. I shudder and step back, blocking my ears to its incomprehensible alien muttering.
Before the Gates of Gondor loom in sight, the Man Boromir Bogbrush becomes the first to fall in battle. A mere mortal from the barbarian settlement of Coventree, he bravely cries “C’mon you Sky Blues” as he crashes to the ground amidst a press of slavering Orcs and Ringwraiths, led by that fearsome Master of the Internal Soliloquy, Jackal. The role of Leading Mortal falls to Aragorn, also known as Strider Bin Shaggin the Short-Cutting Bastard – a formidable warrior and tracker from the cold and desolate Northern Wasteland.
After many months of traversing the deadly Plains of Pineapple and struggling through Ent (and ant) infested forest, the survivors reach the vile, stinking stream which folklore claims will mark the boundary of Mordor. Several more fall victim to its clinging odiferous mud, but I am heartened by the sight of the distastefully-trousered Elf Legolas (sorry, Legless) the Ball Ringer – a dazzling Pied Piper beckoning to his rat-pack from the far side (Wrong story surely? Ed).
But what is this new rune we see before us? “Onion”? A possible reference to that
monocotyledonous plant of genus Allium native to the Shire? Could it be that our putative brave adventure is in fact no more than a bunch of headless chickens running around in a circle?
And so it seems that we have erroneously returned to whence we came. But I know that this is merely an illusion cast by the evil and egregious Sauron Streaker. For in my pocket I find a flat, malleable purple amulet bearing the number “96”. And the delectable Hobbit Mrs. Merry Head carries its mate “69”. I can tell no more of what befell; children may be reading.
ONION
J.R.Ringworm Tolkien
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