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LOTRasWrittenByOtherAuthorsYou are on the archive wiki. The new wiki is here. Lord Of The Rings, as written by other AuthorsOn the 10th of October, 2002 a user named Fongolfin innocently posted a message to the straightdope.com message boards asking the question... what would LOTR read like, if it were written by different authors. The frenzy that followed created 41 pages of different authors and dialogues based on fan's interpetations of their favourite author's attempt at writing LOTR in their own style... It was mayhem. But out of the maelstrom of crap. there were a few good posts. These aren't them. These are merely the ones I found funny. The full thread can be read here. Be warned, it can become addictive... LOTR as written from an RPG game dialoguePlayer of Gandalf: "So, like, Gandalf challenges the Balrog." LOTR as written by a SysadminManagement: The Ring MUST be destroyed. Sysadmin: How do you want me to destroy the Ring? Management: It must be dropped into the fires whence it was forged. Can you do it? Sysadmin: Yes, but... Management: Spare me the details, talk to the Project Officer. Project Officer (unfolding plan): The Ring is currently in the possession of the Ringbearer, in The Shire, here. We need it dropped in Orodruin, here. Sysadmin (glances at plan): That's easy, give me the Eagle King, I'll have him pick up the Ringbearer in the Shire, fly across Middle Earth, and drop Frodo straight into the fires of Mount Doom. Project Officer: You can't do that! Sysadmin: But it's the most elegant solution with the least overhead and minimal downtime. Project Officer: Well, Marketing feel it would be a better epic struggle of Good vs. Evil if you did it as some sort of land-based quest. Sysadmin (rolls eyes, thinks for a moment): OK then, give me an army of dwarves, they'll tunnel under Mount Doom, diverting its lava flow right up to the mines of Moria. Then Frodo can have an Elvish escort to the Misty Mountains, meet the lava half way, and drop the Ring in. Project Officer: Mmmm, no. Budget won't allow such an extravagant solution. We're not made of money you know. Sysadmin (thinks for a longer moment): OK, I can do it with just an army of Elves, but it'll be a close call. Project Officer: Sorry, but that's out of the question. HR need us to represent all the races of Middle-Earth in the solution or it will conflict with our Equal Employment policy. Sysadmin (thinks for a l-o-n-g, sullen, moment): RIGHT! Give me a dwarf, an elf, a wizard, two men and four hobbits. But first I'll have to re-route the Fellowship via the mines of Moria, as there's too much traffic in the gap of Rohan. Also, the firewall at Mordor means we'll need a consultant to hack another way in - and he'll probably turn out to be flaky. And it'll take until half way through the Fourth Age to do it. Project Officer: That's too long! It has to be done by the end of the Third Age! Sysadmin (smoke pouring out of ears): WHAT! OK, but we'll have to do it on practically no sleep, run hundreds of leagues barefoot without rest, eating nothing but lembas to keep awake. By the time the Fellowship get anywhere near Mordor, Sauron's army will have hacked into Gondor, and most of Fangorn will have crashed to the ground. And there'll be a massive bottlenecks at Helm's Deep because there's not enough resources to handle the increased load. You can also expect the Shire to be scoured but then that's probably outside your terms of reference. Project Officer: But can it be done? Sysadmin: Yes, but... Project Officer: Right then! Excellent! You could have just told me that at the start instead of being so difficult about it... Full Mithril Jacket(excerpted from the screenplay by J.R.R. Kubrick) INT. RIVENDELL -- DAY Fellowship recruits stand at attention in front of their packs. Master Wizardry Sergeant GANDALF walks along the line of blank-faced recruits. GANDALF: I am Gunnery Sergeant Gandalf, your Senior Ring Instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir!" Do you maggots understand that? FELLOWSHIP (in unison): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair. FELLOWSHIP (louder): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: If you ladies leave Rivendell, if you survive recruit training ... you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day you are pukes! You're the lowest form of life on Middle Earth. You are not even pint-sized gollums! You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of warg shit! Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on hobbits, humans, stunties, or pointed-eared fairies. Here you are all equally worthless! And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Fellowship! Do you maggots understand that? RECRUITS (in unison): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you! RECRUITS: (louder): Sir, yes, sir! Sergeant GANDALF stops in front of a short recruit, Private MERRY. GANDALF: What's your name, scumbag? MERRY (shouting): Sir, Private Brandybuck, sir! GANDALF: Bullshit! From now on you're Private Merry! Do you like that name? MERRY (shouting): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Well, there's one thing that you won't like, Private Merry! They don't serve fried conies and lembas on a daily basis round my camp fire! MERRY: Sir, yes, sir! PIPPIN (whispering): Is that you, Voice of Sauron? Is this me? GANDALF: Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little mordor-shit twinkle-toed elf-sucker down here, who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh?! The fairy fucking olliphaunt said it! Out-fucking-standing! I will run you all until you fucking die! I'll run you until your tail-pipes are sucking Old Toby. Sergeant GANDALF grabs FRODO by the shirt. GANDALF: Was it you, you scroungy little warg, huh?! FRODO: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: You little piece of Orcshit! You look like a fucking goblin! I'll bet it was you! FRODO: Sir, no, sir! PIPPIN: Sir, I said it, sir! Sergeant GANDALF steps up to PIPPIN. GANDALF: Well ...no shit. What have we got here, a fucking comedian? Private Pippin? I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and play with my staff. Sergeant GANDALF purnches PIPPIN in the stomach. PIPPIN sags to his knees. GANDALF: You little scumbag! I've got your name! I've got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shoot fireworks down your neck! PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Private Pippin, why did you join my beloved Fellowship? PIPPIN: Sir, to eat, sir! GANDALF: So you're an eater! PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Let me hear your breakfast belch! PIPPIN: Sir? GANDALF: You've got a breakfast belch? Buuuuuuuurrrrrrrppp! That's a breakfast belch. Now let me hear your breakfast belch! PIPPIN: Buuuurrrp! GANDALF: Orcshit! You didn't convince me! Let me hear your real breakfast belch! PIPPIN: Buuuuuuurrrrppp! GANDALF: You didn't scare me! Work on it! PIPPIN: Sir, yes, sir! Sergeant GANDALF speaks into Frodo's face. GANDALF: What have you done with it? FRODO: Sir, done with what, sir? GANDALF: I'm asking the fucking questions here, Private. Do you understand?! FRODO: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Well thank you very much! Can I be in charge for a while? FRODO: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Is it secret? Is it safe? FRODO: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Do I make you nervous? FRODO: Sir! GANDALF: Sir, what? Were you about to call me an Nazgul?! FRODO: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: How tall are you, Private? FRODO: Sir, three foot nine, sir! GANDALF: Three foot nine? I didn't know they stacked warg shit that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh? FRODO: Sir, no, sir. GANDALF: Orcshit! It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the cracks of doom! I think you've been cheated! GANDALF: Where in hell are you from anyway, Private? FRODO: Sir, The Shire, sir! GANDALF: Holy Entshit! The Shire! Only beer and weed-smokers come from The Shire, Private Frodo! And you don't look much like a beer to me, so that kinda narrows it down! Do you suck leaf! FRODO: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: Are you a pipe-puffer? FRODO: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: I'll bet you're the kind of hobbit that would smoke a person's pipe and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a hit! I'll be watching you! Sergeant GANDALF walks down the line to another recruit, a tall, overtweight hobbit. GANDALF: Did your parents have any children that lived? GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: I'll bet they regret that! You're so ugly you could be a spider of Mirkwood! What's your name, fatbody? GARDENER: Sir, Samwise Gamgee, sir! GANDALF: Samwise? Samwise, what, of Harad? GARDENER: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: That name sounds like royalty! Are you royalty? GARDENER: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: Do you suck leaf? GARDENER: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! I'll bet you could suck a goblin head through a garden hose! GARDENER: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: I don't like the name Samwise! Only Stoors and sailors are called Samwise! From now on you're Gomer Gardener! GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir! GARDENER has the trace of a strange smile on his face. GANDALF: Do you think I'm cute, Private Gardener? Do you think I'm funny? GARDENER: Sir, no, sir! GANDALF: Then wipe that disgusting grin off your face! GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Well, any fucking time, sweetheart! GARDENER: Sir, I'm trying, sir. GANDALF: Private Gardener, I'm gonna give you three seconds--excactly three fucking seconds--to wipe that stupid-looking grin off your face, or I will gouge out your eyeballs and turn you into something un-natural! One! Two! Three! GARDENER purses his lips but continues to smile involuntarily. GARDENER: Sir, I can't help it, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! Get on your knees, scumbag! Gardener gets down on his knees. GANDALF:Now choke yourself! Gardener places his hands around his throat as if to choke himself. GANDALF: Goddamn it, with my beard, wargnuts!! GARDENER reaches for GANDALF's beard. GANDALF jerks it away. GANDALF: Don't pull my fucking beard over there! I said choke yourself! Now lean forward and choke yourself! GARDENR leans forward so that his neck rests in GANDALF's beard. GANDALF chokes Gardener. GARDENER gags and starts to turn red in the face. GANDALF: Are you through grinning? GARDERNER (barely able to speak): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! I can't hear you! GARDENER (gasping): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: Orcshit! I still can't hear you! Sound offlike you got a pair! GARDENER (gagging): Sir, yes, sir! GANDALF: That's enough! Get on your feet! GANDALF releases Gardener's throat form his beard. Gardener gets to his feet, breathing heavily. GANDALF: Private Gardener, you had best square your ass away and start shitting me rings of power... or I will definitely turn you into something un-natural! GARDENER: Sir, yes, sir! If "Lord of the Rings" had been drawn by "Dilbert" cartoonist Scott Adams(First panel: Filbert is sitting in his office cubicle. It's tiny and narrow. There's a Post-It note on the wall.) -- (At the office. Gandalf, the Pointy-Hatted Boss, rushes in urgently) -- POINTY-HATTED BOSS: (With camera.) Filbert, I need to take your photo while you're invisible. The security guards need photos of all our invisible employees so they can recognize them when they come in. -- (The Ringwraith has cornered Filbert.) -- (Filbert and the Ringwraith are in a restaurant, smoking.) -- (Filbert is at a conference-room table with Merry, who drools, and Pippin, whose clothes are on backward.) -- (The Committee of Rivendell. Filbert is giving a PowerPoint presentation. He holds a pointer up to a picture of Mt. Doom.) -- (The Committee of Rivendell) -- FILBERT: I've found a much easier way to get rid of the ring. I'll put it in a place from which nothing has ever emerged. -- POINTY-HATTED BOSS: Why do you think we can safely dispose of the ring in Gimli's "In" basket? BAGGADDERStarring Rowan Atkinson as Frodmund Baggadder (FB) and Tony Robinson as Gamdrick (G). FB: Ugggh. G: Aw, what's wrong Mr. B? FB: I might be able to answer that question, Gamdrick, if it weren't broader than a balrog's backside. But I will try to put aside the fact that I'm continually short on cash, I have two young cousins who are inebriated weed-smoking carousers, and I seem never to have a bevy of females at my beck and call, and concentrate on this moment's overshadowing annoyance. G: Oh. You mean me? FB: Gamdrick, if you believe yourself to constitute an overshadowing annoyance, I'm afraid you're developing an oversized ego. You are something like what a bad case of boils is to a leper—potentially troublesome if one didn't have the somewhat larger problem of deteriorating like a five foot nine pile of mashed potatoes in a typhoon of acid rain. But this brings us back to the problem in hand, and, incidentally, it is in hand. I refer, Gamdrick, to this ring. G: Aw, Mr. B—I’m flattered and all but you’re really not my type. FB: Gamdrick, no creature with even a primordially developed ancestor of the cerebellum is your type. You’re only hope for an equal intellectual partnership in this life would have to come from forming an alliance with a particularly primitive variety of sponge. Though if it came down to an all-out battle of wits, a betting man would have to stake his lot on phylum Porifera. G: Ah, see, I knew I’d win! FB: God, if only I were a betting man… But still—even if I had been lucky enough to wager a fortune on something as certain as your stupidity, it still wouldn’t solve the problem of this blasted piece of out of date jewelry. G: Wot, you mean that ring again? FB: I hesitate to say it, but precisely, Gamdrick. You see, no sooner do I get my feet up and my pipe filled, hoping to have one day positively idiocy-free, then who do you think come gallivanting up the drive like some enamored oliphaunt in ballet slippers? G: Aw, Mr. B! You saw an oliphaunt! FB: Gamdrick, I will spare myself the agony of explaining the definition of the word “simile,” and save that task for some day when I want to see you head explode with attempts at comprehension. Anyway, it was that bloody Gandalf doing the gallivanting. He prances up, as giddy as an elf who’s just come out of the closet, and lands me with this dashed nuisance of an heirloom. G: I dunno—it looks rather pretty to me. FB: Ah yes, in the same way the face of a young hobbit lass looks pretty before she’s threatening you with marriage. G: Wot, so the ring wants to marry you? FB: Gamdrick, stop trying to think. I can feel myself losing brain cells with every sentence I hear out of you mouth. But that aside, the problem with this ring has nothing to do with matrimony of any kind, though it is nearly as horrible. It seems this bit of tawdry finger-wear contains the spirit of the most powerful evil in all Middle-Earth, and the only way to stop him from resurrecting himself and laying everything we know and love to waste is for me to pop on down to some place called Mordor and chuck the bloody thing in a volcano. Which, of course, I haven’t the slightest intention of doing. G: …Don’t worry, Mr. B! I have a cunning plan! Mary Schmich's "Wear Sunscreen Speech"Although the person who requested this asked for the Kurt Vonnegut "Wear Sunscreen Speech", I have to rightfully attribute it to Mary Schmich, who wrote it as a column for the Chicago News Tribune... My apologies to Mary, Tolkien... Gandalf's Speech: Ladies and gentlemen of the Fellowship of the Ring (and it's supporting cast). Wear Mithril. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, mithril would be it. The long-term benefits of mithril have been proved by wizards, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now. Do not enjoy the power and beauty of the ring. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of the ring until you've faded completely into its madness. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at parchments of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how dangerous this quest really was. You are not as clever as you imagine. Worry about the future. Or don't worry, but know that not worrying is as effective as trying to battle a Balrog on a rickety bridge with nothing but a staff and a silly catch phrase. The real troubles in your life are things that never crossed your worried mind but will cross your path, the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday. You will be doing one thing every day that scares you. Sing. Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. (Looks at Aragon, and then at Arwen) Floss. Don't waste your time on jealousy (Looks at Samwise Gamgee). Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The quest is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old family heirlooms (looks at Frodo). Stretch. Don't feel guilty if you don't know how to finish this quest. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 200 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 4000-year-olds I know still don't. Get plenty of lembas. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone. Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your eleventy-first wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody's else's. Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Dont' be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own (looks at Legolas). Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your shire. Read the inscriptions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read massive message board threads. They will only make you feel stupid and untalented. Get to know your party members. You never know when they'll be gone for good (Looks and Boromir). Be nice to your haflings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future (looks at Merry and Pippin). Understand that allies come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were fighting the fight of good versus evil. Live in Mordor once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in the Shire once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths. Princes will not accept their future. Wizards will go bad. You, too will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, princes were responsible, wizards were noble, and children respected their elders. Respect your elders (looks at Elrond). Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trustworthy friend. Maybe you'll have a weasly guide. But you never know when either one might run off with your ringfinger. Don't mess too much with your feet hair or by the time you're 40 it will Look 85. Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth. But trust me on the mithril. LOTR, Jerry Springer styleJerry: Tonight... we have a story of peversion that I have never covered before on any of my previous Audience: Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Show title: I love my Ring! Jerry: Tonight, we have with us a guy called Frodo. Frodo has been having trouble with his ring. Frodo: It's like this Jerry. I've been going with my ring for a few months now. Everything is cool Jerry: Do you love you ring? Frodo: Yes... no... well, yes... but that's not the point. The point is that it is mine, and I can Jerry: And has anyone else been trying to do something with the ring? Frodo: Yeah. That's why I come on this show. A couple of the Rings old owners want the ring back Jerry: OK, strong words. Now... who is the first person we have that wants the ring back? (Gollum enters stage left and sits on the chair) Jerry: Hello "Gollum". Tell me... why do you want the ring? Gollum: Givvvveee myyy precioussssssssss. My Preciousssss. Hates bagginssesss. Stole my preciousssss.... (continues to mumble and repeat) Jerry: Um... what is your precious? Frodo: It's what he calls the ring, Jerry. Jerry: OK... and did you steal the ring, like he claims? Frodo: Hell no. I was given this ring by my uncle. Jerry: So you have shared this ring with other members of your family? We are going to take a break now, and when we come back, we will hear from the Uncle... and the original owner of the ring... don't miss it. (Advert break) Jerry: And we are back. If you missed the first segment we met Frodo, who has been going with a ring for a few months now but his life has been terrorised by previous owners of that ring. But it is also a ring that he has shared with other members of his family. We will now be meeting his uncle, who also used to go with the ring. (Enter Bilbo, sits on chair next to Frodo) Bilbo: Hello Jerry Jerry: Hello Bilbo. So... you've been with the ring as well? Bilbo: Yeah. I had the ring. The ring was mine for years. Then my nephew here... well, you could say I gave it to him... but it was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life. Jerry: Do you still love the ring? Bilbo: With all my heart. Jerry: Then why did you give it to your nephew? Bilbo: Gandalf made me... so that they could destroy it! Jerry: Is it true that you want to destroy the ring, Frodo? Frodo: It doesn't make any f***ing difference what I am gonna do wit the ring. It's mine to do wit as I please. Jerry: I think we have some-one backstage that might feel differently. I believe we have the rings creator, Sauron. (Sauron enters in a flat run and charges into Frodo and tries to take the ring from the Frodo. Steve and the rest of the security crew jump on stage to break the two of them up. When Steve has Sauron pinned back, Gollum jumps on Frodo's head, and then climbs down Frodo's head and tries to grab Frodo's hands, looking for the ring. The other members of the secrity team grab Gollum and hold him back) Audience: Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Jerry: Gentelmen.. please! Audience: Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Jerry: Sauron... calm down... calm down... Now tell me, why do you want the ring. Sauron: So I can rule Middle Earth. I created that ring. It's mine. I put my blood, sweat, tears and most of my power in that ring... and to have a hobbit, a f**ing hairy-footed, hairy-a$$ed hafling have it is just f*ing wrong, you know what I'm saying? I want it, and I want it now! That motherf**er had better give it back if he knows what's good for him! Audience: Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Frodo: F*** you, Sauron. You are an evil dude! You just want to use the ring to cause pain and suffering. I am going to destroy the ring before I would let that happen. (Frodo flips Sauron "the bird", but his hands are obscured by a low pixel count in post production) Sauron: You are showing me the finger?? You are showing me the finger? (Gollum jumps up and bites Frodo's finger off) Gollum: Givvvveee myyy precioussssssssss. My Preciousssss. Hates bagginssesss. Stole my preciousssss.... Frodo: Holy F***!!!!! MotherF?**er!!! That B***d bit my f*ing finger off!! I'm gonna kill him!! Give my f**ing finger back!!! Audience: Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! (A melee ensues. All Guests are man/hobbit-handled off stage, and Frodo is seen getting into an ambulance with his finger in a bowl of ice) Jerry: We are going to take a break now... but after the break... Immortal women, and the mortal men they love... that their fathers do not approve of... next on Jerry Springer! |