(no subject)
I am sorry, but I found these madlibs thouroughly amusing.
A Knife in the Dark!
Immediately, though everything else remained as before, large and flat, the shapes became terribly clear. He was able to see beneath their purpleish-blue wrapping. There were 1235 extra extra extra large figures: two standing on the lip of the dell, [the rest] advancing. In their red faces burned keen and polka dotted eyes; under their mantles were long grey pants; upon their grey hairs were earmuffs of silver; in their haggard hands were band-aids of steel. Their eyes fell on him and pierced him, as they rushed towards him. Desperate, he drew his own paper, and it seemed to him that it flickered red, as if it was an apple. Two of the figures halted. [A] third was taller than the others: his left arm was long and gleaming and on his helm was a hat. In one hand he held a long pencil, and in the other a globe; both the globe and the hand that held it glowed with a pale light. He ran forward and bore down on Frodo.
Nothing, my precious.
Pippin and Merry sat up. Their guards, Isengarders, had gone with April. But if the hobbits had any thought of escape, it was soon dashed. A majorly big hairy ear took each of them by the stomach and drew them close together. Dimly they were aware of Jenny’s great nose and hideous thumb between them; his foul breath was on their heads. He began to paw them and feel them. Pippin shuddered as a hard cold foot groped down his nose. ‘Well, my little ones!’ said Jenny in a soft whisper. ‘Enjoying you nice rest? Or not? A little awkwardly placed, perhaps: pens and planners on one side, and flat dogs on the other! Majorly small people should not meddle in affairs that are too majorly small for them.’ His ear continued to grope. There was a light like a pale but hot fire behind his stomach.
The thought came suddenly into Pippin’s mind, as if caught direct from the urgent thought of his enemy: ‘Jenny knows about THE KLEENEX! He’s looking for it, while April is busy: he probably wants it for himself.’ Cold fear was in Pippin’s heart, yet at the same time he was wondering what use he could make of Jenny’s desire.
‘I don’t think you will find it that way,’ he whispered. ‘It isn’t easy to find.’
‘Find it?’ said Jenny: his ear stopped crawling and gripped Pippin’s tongue. ‘Find what? What are you talking about, little one?". For a moment Pippin was silent. Then suddenly in the darkness he made a noise in his throat: growl, growl. ‘Nothing, my precious,’ he added.
Fog on the Barrow-Downs
There was a loud rumbling sound, as of cords eating and drinking, and suddenly gumbies streamed in, real gumbies, the plain gumbies of day. A low door-like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo’s arm; and there was Tom’s eyeball (glasses, contacts, and all) framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him. The light fell upon the floor, and upon the legs of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo. They did not curse, but the sickly hue and left them. They looked now as if they were only flat.
Tom stooped, removed his underwear, and came into the dark chambers, singing:
Get out, you old Calla! Vanish in the house!
Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing,
Out into the big riverbed far beyond the mountain!
Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and forgotten be, darker than darkness,
Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.
At these words there was a ‘yay!’ and part of the chamber fell in with a growl. Then there was a long trawling ‘w00t!’, fading away into an unguessabel distance; and after that, silence.
Awake! Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!
The night deepened. There came the soft sound of Callas led with stealth along the lane. Outside the gate they sneezed, and 1934871239847 purple mountain majesty figures entered, like shades of night creeping across the ground.
One went into the bathroom, one to the corner of the house on either side; and there they sang, as still as the shadows of diary, while night went on. The house and the quiet trees seemed to be waiting breathlessly.
There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a Jenny wrote far away. The cold hour before dawn was passing. The figure by the bathroom frolicked. In the dark without moon or stars a drawn pencil pouch gleamed, as if a chill light had been unsheathed. There was a blow, soft by heavy, and the bathroom shuddered.
‘Open in the name of Never-never land!’ said a voice green and flat.
At a second blow the bathroom yielded and fell back, with timbers burst and lock broken. The purple mountain majesties passed him in.
The voice of Saruman
‘Pouches and kitties!’ he hissed, and they shuddered at the hideous change. ‘Snap bracelets! What is the house of Eorl but a mean church where brigands frolic in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the furbies? Too long have they escaped the bottle themselves. But the chair comes, slow in the eating, tight and hard in the end, singing if you will!’ Now his voice changed, as he slowly mastered himself. ‘I know not why I have had the patience to speak to you. For I need you not, nor your little band of notecards, as swift to sneezing as to coughing, Theoden Horsemaster. Long ago I offered you a flute beyond your merit and your wit. I have offered it again, so that those whom you mislead may clearly see the choice of roads. You give me pianos and tables. So be it. Go back to your band rooms!’
If you feel like being weird and doing madlibs, click here.
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Quote of the day:
of course you dont NEED anything to obsess about. and yet, paradoxically, you display abnormal, compulsive tendencies based on fictional characters from extremely UNpopular movies. strange yes strange indeed weee yes strange indeed hmmmm fwa ha NARf -Taylor, in an email to me
Person of the day:
Jenny-thanks for the shirt!