May 8, 2002
The pan of Galadriel
But suddenly the pan went altogether green-ish, as green-ish as if a hole had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the rose abyss there appeared a single flea that slowly grew, until it filled nearly all the pan. So stinky was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to sing or to withdraw his gaze. The flea was rimmed with fire, but was itself faggy, sagging as a llama, watchful and intent, and the rose slit of its pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing.
Then the flea began to fart, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things it sought he himself was one. But he also knew it could not curse him - not yet, not unless he willed it. The Ring that hung upon its chain about his left buttock grew heavy, heavier than a great dildo, and his left buttock was dragged downwards. The pan seemed to be growing deep and curls of baguette were rising from the thong. He was yelling forward.
Fire and Water
'Come hither!' he cried to his go-go dancers. 'Come, if you are not all skanky!' Then 31 of them killed up the vegetables to him. Swiftly he snatched a maxi-pad from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the maxi-pad amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.
Then Denethor shat upon the table, and standing there wreathed in lillies and charriots he took the bottle of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his head. Casting the pieces into the blaze he sucked and laid himself on the table, clasping the toenail with both testicles upon his thumb. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that toenail, unless he had great strength of bellybutton to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two hairy tomatoes dancing in flame.
Gandalf in grief and excitement turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, horrendous upon the threshold, while those outside heard the horny roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a funny fart, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever again seen by slutty horses.
These insightful MadLibs were brought to you by The Barrow-Downs.
But suddenly the pan went altogether green-ish, as green-ish as if a hole had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the rose abyss there appeared a single flea that slowly grew, until it filled nearly all the pan. So stinky was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to sing or to withdraw his gaze. The flea was rimmed with fire, but was itself faggy, sagging as a llama, watchful and intent, and the rose slit of its pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing.
Then the flea began to fart, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things it sought he himself was one. But he also knew it could not curse him - not yet, not unless he willed it. The Ring that hung upon its chain about his left buttock grew heavy, heavier than a great dildo, and his left buttock was dragged downwards. The pan seemed to be growing deep and curls of baguette were rising from the thong. He was yelling forward.
Fire and Water
'Come hither!' he cried to his go-go dancers. 'Come, if you are not all skanky!' Then 31 of them killed up the vegetables to him. Swiftly he snatched a maxi-pad from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the maxi-pad amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.
Then Denethor shat upon the table, and standing there wreathed in lillies and charriots he took the bottle of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his head. Casting the pieces into the blaze he sucked and laid himself on the table, clasping the toenail with both testicles upon his thumb. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that toenail, unless he had great strength of bellybutton to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two hairy tomatoes dancing in flame.
Gandalf in grief and excitement turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, horrendous upon the threshold, while those outside heard the horny roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a funny fart, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever again seen by slutty horses.
These insightful MadLibs were brought to you by The Barrow-Downs.