I hear the place is a garden now, though, which is freaky.
So, yeah, we're moving to Mordor to get away from the neighbors bitching about the legality of discharging firearms on a suburban street (a bunch of Mormons, one bullet apiece, I fail to see what all the fuss was about) and how the skulls-- which Celeborn VERY METICULOUSLY boiled and cleaned; we have children in the house, after all-- and black roses in Cel's garden "disturb the atmosphere" of the neighborhood. Fucking prissy elves. This all stems from having a drag queen for a Fearless Leader, I'm sure of it. Anyway, Brí came over for nachos yesterday. We decided to tell her about the move in person, not sure as to how she would react. (Hormones.)
The first words out of her mouth over the threshold were, "Wow, Daddy, you're wearing a lot of leather these days." This somehow triggered a classic Celeborn guiltfit, in which he automatically started hunting for a nearby bottle of Jack Daniels, trying not to cry, and speaking in a barely-coherent string of remorseful consonant and vowel combinations.
"I'msorryprincessIknowyou'rehavingthebabiessoon butthepeoplenextdoorarethreateningtosueandyouknowhowGlorfie'slawyersare Ican'thavetheminthehouseagain wedon'thaveanyroomleftforthebodiesIpromisewe'll comebackthesecondyougointolabourIwanttobetherewhenmynewgrandchildrenare bornbecauseifI'mnotdrunkforthisone maybeI'llrememberitwheredidGlorfieputmybooze..."
It went on for another five minutes or so. Then we had nachos and killed my agent. Celeborn suggested it, since I had a few rounds left in my guns from my stint fighting for Rohan against Dol Amroth. It was that bitch's beeper that called me out of the battle in the first place. Legal issues with the Dol Amroth-based sponsors. They apparently don't like seeing their biggest Eldar contract killing their kin.
The first words out of her mouth over the threshold were, "Wow, Daddy, you're wearing a lot of leather these days." This somehow triggered a classic Celeborn guiltfit, in which he automatically started hunting for a nearby bottle of Jack Daniels, trying not to cry, and speaking in a barely-coherent string of remorseful consonant and vowel combinations.
"I'msorryprincessIknowyou'rehavingthebabiessoon butthepeoplenextdoorarethreateningtosueandyouknowhowGlorfie'slawyersare Ican'thavetheminthehouseagain wedon'thaveanyroomleftforthebodiesIpromisewe'll comebackthesecondyougointolabourIwanttobetherewhenmynewgrandchildrenare bornbecauseifI'mnotdrunkforthisone maybeI'llrememberitwheredidGlorfieputmybooze..."
It went on for another five minutes or so. Then we had nachos and killed my agent. Celeborn suggested it, since I had a few rounds left in my guns from my stint fighting for Rohan against Dol Amroth. It was that bitch's beeper that called me out of the battle in the first place. Legal issues with the Dol Amroth-based sponsors. They apparently don't like seeing their biggest Eldar contract killing their kin.