[Scene: The Nazgul and Gandalf at the Ruined Gates]
Gandalf: ... of course, why else would I have this outrageous accent! Now go away you silly Mordor kinnnnigits or I will taunt you a second time!
Nazgul: Who do you think I am? An orc chieftain? Your taunts cannot harm me, for only sticks and stones can break MY bones!
Gandalf: (raising staff) Well, if you insist... (sniffs). Hey, you smell something?
Nazgul: It wasn't me I swear.
Gandalf: No, that's not what I mean. It smells like, (sniffs again), TANG!
Nazgul: Oh no...
[clouds begin to disperse]
Gandalf: Look, here comes the sun! It feels like years since it's been here! Here comes the sun and I say, It's alllllright!
Nazgul: Oh this is all wrong! First the horns and now this? Someone did NOT get the memo! Aright Old man, farewell for now, but...
Music: DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNN
Nazgul: I'll be back!
Gandalf: Only in a re-run.
[cut to Theoden]
Theoden: (wiping bits of gore and orc guts from his armor) Hoooooey! Now that's whut ah calls a good ol' fashioned ass wuppin'! Lookit them fellers skeedaddle!
Dernhelm: Lookey over yonder uncle-fath... er your Majestic Royalitude! Ol' Elfhelms a puttin' a hurtin' on them there carnies!
Theoden: Yeah-bob! Them furris wheels goin' down quicker'n a two-dollar whor, um, tramp... steamer on an iceberg!
Dernhelm: Nice save Sire!
Theoden: Well, you know, little ears! Well ah reckon we oughta, hey what the heck is that?
[cut to Haraddrim arrayed for battle to the south of the road]
Odd narrator: Yes, it was the cruel Haradrim and as their chief looked out over the battle he saw the banner of Theoden and was filled with a red wrath. He unfurled his own standard, a black flag with a white face and he opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound was heard for the Leader of the Haradrim was none other than... THE KING OF THE MIMES! After several minutes of frantic gesturing and a quick but still quite scintillating round of charades, he managed to order his men to attack.
Theoden: Well would'ya lookie thar. MIMES! Ah hates Mimes!
Dernhelm: Let's git'em yer Lordness!
Theoden: KILL THE MIME!
(charges off)
Dernhelm and host of Rohan: KILL THE MIME! KILL THE MIME!
Odd narrator v.o. battle scene: The Clash of their meeting was great, but the imaginary weapons of the Mime horde was no match for the cold steel of Rohan, soon the foul host broke and ran, but invisible walls and mysterious winds that only seemed to effect the Haradrim slowed their retreat and soon the Riders Of Rohan had hewn them to bits! It was a gratifying, if rather brief and not particularly hard fought, victory. But hey, who hasn't wanted to kill a Mime?
Theoden: Heeewack! That wuz fun! Ah'd give a nickel to do it agai...
Foul Shadow: LOOM
Host of Rohan: HOLY CRAP!
Theoden: TO ME! TO ME! UO EORLINGAS! TAINT NUTHIN' BUT A BIG OLD BIRD! MAH SECOND WIFE WUZ SKEERIER LOOKIN' AN THIS OLD BUZZARD!
Horses of Rohan: Ruh-roh!
Foul Shadow: loom
Horses of Rohan: YIKES! Rotta run! Bye! (horses scatter and run dumping their riders)
Host of Rohan: I'MNOTGONNALOOKI'MNOTGONNALOOKI'MNOTGONNALOOK!!!!!!
Poison Dart: BONZAIIIIIIIII!!
Snowmane: GOTTAGOGOTTAGOGOTTAGOGOTTAGO... ow. die. Fall on Theoden.
Theoden: Oooo. That's gunna leave a mark. (faint)
(Idril)
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: Down came the Shadow, and Behold! It was a huge black pterosaur -- the Dark Lord's pride and joy.
He'd found this one and it's siblings as wee babies, and fed them on a well-balanced diet of freshly flayed rebels, bone meal and all-natural nutritional supplements to provide the essential fatty acids they needed for a healthy shiny coat. His care and patience was well rewarded, as the fell beasts, (affectionately known as the "fellas") grew to an enormous size. Intelligent and obedient, the creatures made the perfect steeds for his top servants, the ringwraiths.
Fell Beast: SCREEECH! (translation: Horse! My fave!)
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: The fell beast landed on the king's puny horse and dug in its great talons. Between it's elegant wings rode the Witch King. He was pleased that his dramatic "headless horseman" appearance was more effective on the Rohirrim than on that dratted Wizard. And of course the fell beast always made for a dramatic entrance. He twirled his mace and looked around for some hope or victory to smash into smithereens.
Witch King: Might as well pick up the King's head while we're here.
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: And what do you know? There's some hope... or so it seems. One lone figure stands among the dead knights of the king's household. Most likely his horse went mad and threw him... several others had been unable to control their horses and had been carried off. This one is sort of scrawny and weepy looking... no huge challenge. But these mid-battle tete-a-tetes with the lone, desperate warriors can be terribly amusing, don't you think?
Witch King: Indeed!
Merry: Theoden King! [GASP] Oh I hate Nazgul! I feel like I'm in one of those stupid nightmares where I can't move!
Eowyn: (to Witch King) Here! You git away from him!
Witch King:
Eowyn: That there's my kin, and you best get gone or you're gonna be in a world o' hurt!
Witch King: It will be you that finds a "world o' hurt" foolish one. I will take thee to the houses of lamentation... to torment beyond your darkest imagining.
Eowyn: That's aiit by me. I ain't got nothin' else planned... 'cept one thang. [points her sword at the Witch King's crown] I'm a mind to take that crown with me. So if that's what you want then come on and lets get this over with! [clangs her sword and shield together]
Witch King: (chuckles) Insolent child. No man can harm me.
Eowyn: [Pulls off her helm and lets her hair free] Sounds like you been undead too long, you old piece of *$@%. I ain't no man. Now git that stinkin' buzzard away from my Uncle or you'll both be carryin' your innards around in a sack!
Fell Beast: SHRRIIIIEEEEKK!
[Eowyn turns a bit green from the stench]
Witch King: [growls]
Merry: (looking up from the dirt) Holy Cow! That girl don't have a lick of sense! She's gotta know she's going to die and she doesn't even care! Okay Merry, you have to help! He's not looking this way... akkkk! Come on! There's no use living if it means cowering here in the dirt... help her! (starts crawling)
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: The Witch King spurred his fell beast forward. It stretched out it's wings and leaped into the air toward the scrawny trash-talking girl. A very impressive display I assure you... his leap that is... not at all buzzard-like.
Fell Beast: Screeech!
Eowyn: Hooah! [slices the beast's head off] Whoa! [scoots backward as it falls in a heap]
The Gloom: YIKES!
The Sun: Hooray for Eowyn! (SHINE!) You go, girl!
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: But as the dust cleared the Witch King stepped away from the great beast. He was unharmed (of course) and thoroughly p*ssed.
Witch King: Shrieeeek! [Slams his mace into her shield, shattering both shield and her arm]
Eowyn: [GASP!] (Falls to her knees)
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: Hey little girl! One blow and you're all out of trash talk? Tsk Tsk! One more ought to do!
[The Witch King raises his mace again]
Merry: No, no, NO! UMMPH! [stabs Witch King in the back of the knee]
Witch King: AUUGHH!! What the *$#@?
Merry: EOWYN! EOWYN!
Eowyn: Merry? [BLINK]
Witch King: I'll be damned if it's not another of those sneaky, foot-jabbin' little rat bastids! If there's one thing I can't stand it's hob-
Eowyn: HUUAAH! [swings]
Odd Narrator: Woohoo! She took his head clean off!
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: Now that's not very fair and balanced!
Odd Narrator: Bite me! And with that the Witch King's crown fell with a clang... and his armor and cloak fell empty.
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: You know... that cloak-falling-empty thing has got to be the most repetitious image in fantasy and science fiction. Where all have we seen that? Star Wars and-
Audience: SHUT UP!
Narrator of Questionable Loyalty: Hmmmph!
Witch King: Shrieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek! [trails off to nothing]
Eowyn: (crawling through the dirt) crown crown crown crown... yes! (grabs crown) Eomer! Lookit what... I... [gasp]... got. [faints]
(Silarien)
Odd Narrator: Merry stood amongst the carnage, blinking away tears. He looked at the felled black serpent, the fallen fell beast, the fallen cloak, fallen Eowyn, fallen Snowmane, fallen Theoden...
Merry: Waaah [reaches for Theoden's hand]
Theoden: [opens eyes and blinks a couple of times] What YOU doin' here?
Merry: Sorry. I don't seem to be doing much at all, besides blubbering.
Theoden: Aw, ah ain't soh-wur, but y'all never take no fur'un ainswer. Ah ain't gonna make toe-mah. Shud've done retard long time go. Armageddon tarred.
Merry: Sorry?
Theoden: S'okay boy. Ah'm off't mah ancestors. When ah teel 'em ow ah felled thait blaack serpent, they'll gimme a ROW TIE ROW. Hey, am ah lookin' fo'ad to that. I thank thissus better thain smokin' m'self to death while a'listenin' to herb-law. Y'all seed Eomer? Shoot, an' Eowyn's gonna be prudy dang mad when she hears 'bout this may-us. Darn gell askin' to come to war with us. Sheesh, this ain't no place for a fe-male.
Merry: Er, about Eowyn...
[TOOOOOOOOOOT, BLAAAAIIIIRE]
Odd Narrator: How did the British Prime Minister get in here? Why can't he stop in his own country once in a while?
Trumpet: Ooops. Took a nasty knock in the battle, so I'm a bit out of tune.
Odd Narrator: Better let a medic look at that. Right, enemy hoards were pouring in from up the road, under the walls, out of the fields, right, left and centre, including massive Mumakils with very tall saddles. The city responded to the onslaught with a big-assed-truck-load of ... swans? Wait up. Pass me the r*ddy book ... Oh, okay.
Merry: Maybe Gandalf could understand what on earth Theoden is talking about. There's never a wizard when you need one.
Odd Narrator: Ain't that the truth. Ahem, Eomer rode up with his remaining 'men' and did a double-take at the big buzzard.
Eomer: Crikey, that's some Sunday dinner.
Odd Narrator: Then he spotted Theoden and dismounted to go to him. One of the knights tugged the king's banner from the death-like grip ... who writes these scripts? ... from the death grip of Guthlaf.
Theoden: Howdy, son. [gasp] Take that there bayner. Y'all got pro-mo-taid. [wheeze] Say adios to Eowyn fur me. [croak]
Bystanders: WAAAAAAH
Eomer: [Drying his tears on newly acquired banner]
Don't blub too much
My unc was great
He fell a mighty fall
He felled that old blaack serpent
He's a fella for us all
Wheel dig thait mound
Wheel tuck him in
And then wheel blub some more
He'll have to wait
A little while
Til we've done won this war
(BunnieBugs)
Eomer: (sniffle) Theoden's knights, all y'all stay here and take care of him. Take him away so's he don't git trampled or nuthin'. And all these other fellers, too.
Odd Narrator: Eomer stood looking around at the dead, when suddenly his eyes fell on Eowyn. He stood, white-faced, stunned, enraged beyond words...
Eomer: (sputter, sputter)
Odd Narrator: ... but only for a moment.
Eomer: Eowyn! Damn, girl!? What're you doin' here? I knew you were a tomboy, but I didn't know y'all were a transvestite! Shee-ooot! Cain't you never do nuthin' yer told? Well, if'n you kin die, we kin too! (shouts) All y'all hearin' me, boys? We're all gonna die, so let's git to it!
[Eomer spurs his horse straight toward the front of the host, blowing a horn ]
Eomer: (calling loudly)
We're mighty p*ssed
Y'all better run
Look out Death
'Cause here we come!
Odd Narrator: With that the host began to move. Chanting "Death" they swept around the fallen king and away southwards.
And still Meriadoc stood there, unnoticed, and brushing away the tears, he stooped to pick up the shield that Eowyn had given him.
Merry: (choke, sniff) My sword... where's my sword... my arm's gone all numb, like novocaine run amuck... oh, there it is...
[Merry's sword lies on the ground, the blade smoking, and as he watches, it writhes and turns to ashes]
Merry's Sword: (gasp, wheeze) Awesome swordplay, short stuff! (cough) I've always wanted to do that... (crumble, POOF)
(merithehobbit)
Geraldo Iscareya: [very quiet golf voice] This is Geraldo Iscareya, joining you live from the Pelennor Fields here outside Minas Tirith for RohanTV and Helm's Deep News. We are watching from a hidden grassy knoll, just outside the heat of battle here on this historic day of war for Middle Earth. With me today is Wolf Slitzer, experienced war correspondent, what say you Wolf to the action just played out.
Wolf Slitzer: [also in quiet golf voice] It is grim news we have to report back home to the wives and children. Dead bodies are scattered all around us, the smell of blood and guts is on the air. Alas, it is looking really bad for King Theoden.
Geraldo: Do we have a tape of that?
Wolf: Nope, the cameraman caught an arrow just as the flying lizard thing approached.
Geraldo: Who's running the camera.
Wolf: Oh, it's a chick from Rohan, that snuck out here to battle. She minored in camerawork, say Hi Mary Lou.
Mary Lou: Hi, ya'll, now, just git reportin', folks back home yonder need to be informed.
Wolf: [clears throat] Oh... Keeping you informed direct from the battlefield Helm's Deep Correspondents have put our lives on the line. Just a few minutes ago we saw King Theoden go down when the big lizard thing approached.
Geraldo: [flips through The Book of Strange Creatures] I think the proper description would be hmm... it isn't a griffin, or a pterodactyl... Okay... Big flying Lizardie looking scary thing will do. Probably some genetic meddling going on over there in Mordor.
Wolf: Well, loyal viewers, I must warn you the content I am describing could be disturbing to some viewers, so just turn of the TV if you don't want to know the %$#@ that went down just now. Theoden got squashed under his honkin' huge horse after slaughtering many nasty bad guys. But the Lizardy flying scary thing came swooping over and scared everyone senseless. We ourselves were speechless for a good two minutes.
Geraldo: [dramatically] He was lying there... defenseless, all his men mashed to pulp by the horses fleeing and stomping in terror.
Wolf: Eeeww. that's gross.
Geraldo: Well, there was some hacking, slashing and the like, but pretty much there was no one to protect the king.
Wolf: Out of nowhere comes this scrawny warrior, who turns out to be Eowyn. Can you believe it? A chick in battle?
Mary Lou: Hello? I'm a chick in battle! You guys are such chauvinist pigs. Women do most of the work in Middle Earth anyway, why not save the day?
Geraldo: I wish we had tape of it, her hair was blowing in the wind all glorious, bit o' thigh peeking out of her battle torn garments... [gets smacked in the head by Mary Lou] OW! Uh... and she just thwacked the heads off the foul lizard thing...
Wolf: Well, she has taken a blow, and it looks rather painful. Luckily it was her left arm that appears rather crushed, and that short halfling showed up and poked the Achilles tendon of the Witch King just in time to distract him so she could thwack off the head of the Witch King.
Geraldo: You heard it here first, Eowyn saved the day... though she may just die here soon. Even Eomer who just showed up down below us, didn't witness this event, and the moron will probably think Theoden did all the thwacking.
Mary Lou: You tell um.
Wolf Slitzer: You know what is really weird, either all this happened really fast, or there is some kind of death bubble around the King and this action. I mean there is fighting still going on as we speak. I guess all the guys were busy fighting somewhere else, and conveniently left the action and grieving stuff like in the slow-mo of an action movie.
Geraldo: There's a lot of bleeding, crying and lamenting going on, but the Banner of the Mark remains high, the tide seems to be turning in our favor... in fact no one is around the King really, I think they'll have time to bear him and Eowyn away unscathed.
Wolf: They'll probably forget that little short dude though. He looks pretty bad too.
Geraldo: AAAAGGGGGH! ORCS!
Wolf: [raises spear] Uh... is it swipe... swing... slash... or slash... swing... swipe?
Mary Lou: [sets down the camera sideways, so we see half of Wolf Slitzer and Geraldo with Orc legs fast approaching.] Sheesh. [whips out bow] Pfffttt... pffftt... ppfftt. [grabs sword] LISTEN UP WIMPS. It's SALUTE... DUCK... SWING... SLASH... JAB! Got it? Didn't you watch your required Basic Fighting Techniques by Aragorn Arathornson video?
Geraldo: Uh... we sort of watched Eowyn's Yoga instead.
Mary Lou: [Turn, swing, slash, stab] Oh brother... why don't we cut to commercial. [avoids attack, stab, jab... spear]
Wolf: [crawling up to the camera] This is Wolf Slitzer, we'll just go to commercial for a moment while we defend ourselves from certain death... AAAA! MARY LOU! [hides behind shield]
(Russ)
[lying upon the ground, the smoking sword hilt of Merry's barrow blade]
Odd Narrator v.o.:
We bid farewell to the barrow blade,
Which the blood of the Nazgul hath unmade.
'Twas wrought of old in Westernesse,
And to the purpose of its making,
allow its end attest.
In the hand of a Half-pint, from the Shire,
Wielded not by hate,
but heart's desire,
No greater blow from men more mighty,
Could have laid that sucker low alrighty!
So fare thee well to the barrow blade,
A more noble sticker hath not been made!
(Russ and Idril)
Odd Narrator: And so even as the Barrow blade was passing out of memory, the King's men lifted him and bore him away. But of the fallen of the King's household they could not carry them, for Theoden had put on a few extra pounds in his later years and it was all that they could do to bear him away towards the city. Except they did carry Eowyn and Sue Anne, as it wasn't fittin' to leave ladies out on the field... even if they were tomboys.
(Russ)
Yet after all was said and done, they returned and burned the body of the fell beast, but for Snowmane, they sent his carcass to a taxidermist and had him stuffed and mounted so that for long years afterward men would be able to bring their children and take cheesy pictures on that once noble steed.
But of the ground where the great black beast was burned no grass ever grew and it remained bare and blackened, because that thing just plain sucked!
(Idril)
Odd Narrator: Merry walked beside the bearers and paid no further heed to the battle. However the media was not to be ignored.
Ashley Vainfield: Mr. Brandybuck! Mr. Brandybuck! How does it feel to be the only person to survive King Theoden's reckless charge?
Merry: Bad.
Ashley Vainfield: Is it true that you snuck into the battle with the King's niece?
Merry: Uh... Eowyn? Dernhelm, yeah.
Ashley Vainfield: Wasn't that in direct violation of King Theoden's orders?
Merry: I guess so. I don't feel so good.
Ashley Vainfield: Any comment on the passing of the crown here today? Do you think that a 23 year-old is mature enough to be Rohan's head of state? Or do you think a regent should be appointed?
Merry: [gets very green] I think I'm gonna hurl. [does so]
Ashley Vainfield: Oooh! Did you get that Phil?
Phil the Cameraman: Oh yeah.
Prince Imrahil: (rides up) Begone foul creatures!!
Ashley and Phil: [SQUEAK] (scurry off)
Prince Imrahil: What what? Here now, what's going on?
Knight of Rohan: Theoden King is dead. Eomer King commands us to bear him to the city.
Prince Imrahil: What, Eomer isn't going to battle?
Knight of Rohan: Uhhh... yes.
Prince Imrahil: Then why are you bearing him to the city?
Knight of Rohan: We aren't. We're bearing Theoden King to the city. The dead guy, see?
Prince Imrahil: Ooooh! So where's Eomer?
Knight of Rohan: He went off to battle. See? He's the one with the horse tail.
Prince Imrahil: Wow, I'll bet that makes it hard for him to ride.
Knights of Rohan: [All look very puzzled]
Prince Imrahil: What's this?
Knight of Rohan: That would be a woman, Sir. They're mostly like men but where men have-
Prince Imrahil: I know that! What is she doing here?
Knight of Rohan: Uhhhh... Laying dead?
Prince Imrahil: What was she doing here before she died?
Knight of Rohan: Oh that! Fighting.
Prince Imrahil: Akk! Never mind! Hey... wait a minute. I don't think she's dead.
Eowyn: mutter mumble Lookit! mumble mutter (waves iron crown around)
Knights of Rohan: [GASP] She isn't?
Prince Imrahil: Don't you have any leeches?
Knight of Rohan: Ewwww! Why would we have leeches?
Prince Imrahil: (rolls his eyes) Well everybody knows that. If you think someone is dead, you throw a leech on them. If they scream, jump up and try to get the nasty thing off, then they're probably not dead. Actually, I suppose any of those three activities is indicative of life, but all three together is almost conclusive.
Knight of Rohan: Maybe we should get Eowyn to the City, considering she's not dead.
Prince Imrahil: Very well. Move along, nothing to see here!
Odd Narrator: And with that the noble but rather odd prince bowed and rode off to the battle.
(Russ)
Odd Narrator:[battle scene v.o.]
All about the fields of Pellenor the battle was now joined. Before the city walls now the Foot soldiers of Gondor strove with the host of Mordor still gathered there, but the Horsemen rode east to the rescue of Eomer. Hurin the Tall, Marvin the Mediocre, and Carlton the Doorman and Imrahil the odd with his Knights all around them.
Eomer: (hack-hew-stab) So Beamer, hows the family?
Beamer: (dodge-parry-slash) Oh you the usual, the boy is always in trouble, the girl is pulling straight A's... Duck!
Eomer: (ducks) Thanks!
Beamer: Mmmmm, Duck! (Thrust)
Haradrim: Ow! (die)
Eomer: Nice! Y'all are really gittin' better at this!
Beamer: Thanks, Took me a seminar. (Mighty swing)
Haradrim Head: roll-roll-roll-roll...
Beamer: And not an hour too soon!
Eomer: Hell fire boy! Don't cha'all let them heads git away like that, we'uz gonna need 'em for the polo match after the big fight! (stab-hack-hack-thrust)
Beamer: If we survive an all.
Horns: TOOOOOOOOT!
Imrahil: DIE HARADRIM SCUM!!!!
Eomer: Hot Damn! It's the cavalry!
Beamer: 'Bout damn time too!
Eomer: All right men, let's break a can of wup ass out on their... um, ass!
Riders: ROLL TIDE!
Swan Knights: Tippicanoe and Gondor too!
Mumakil: Not so fast short stuff!
Horses: The hell you say!
Riders: C'mon, Charge already!
Horses: No sprechen zie Rohan.
Mumakil: STOMP! SQUISH! GRIND!
Southrons: Payback, yes, I think so!
Imrahil: Sprechen zie dog food?
Horses: Maybe you would like to join the infantry?
Imrahil: You know, I was thinking, lets attack somewhere else.
Horses: Works for me!
Odd Narrator: And so it went all about the battle field, where the Southrons fought alone, the Cavlary would charge, but where the Mumakil stood, they would not go...
Horses: Damn straight!
Odd Narrator: And about the great beasts, standing like towers on the field, the Southrons would rally. And if The Rohirrim were out numbered three times before, it soon grew worse as the reserves poured forth out of Osgilliath. Gothmog, Lieutenant of the slain Witch king had been holding the troops back to clean up after the Mumakil, a fell task, but now flung them into the battle. Carnies with axes and Hucksters from Khand, Barkers in scarlet and the terrible Half-Mimes of Harad, with fell weapons and over whom imaginary forces of nature held no sway!
Eomer: Well this sucks!
Odd Narrator: Wait it gets worse. For even as the rain departed and the sun shone anew, the watchmen on the walls of Gondor spied a terror unlooked for borne upon the Anduin and driven by the wind came a great black fleet!
Watchmen: Aieee! The Corsairs of Umbar! Aieeeee! Now were really screwed!
City Bells: DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!
Horns: BLEAT!
Troops: RUN AWAY! RUN-AWAY!
Eomer: Oh now this sucks worse!
Odd Narrator: Told ya! Wait till you see what happens next!
Eomer: No thanks, enough is enough! (Blows the Horn of Rohan and dismounts)
Odd Narrator: I think you're gonna...
Eomer: Ah said enough!
Odd Narrator: Suit your self, Hmmmph!
Eomer: Re-group everyone! We'uz gonna stand rat ch'ere 'n duke it out toe to toe! Come on boys, line 'em up, and let's kick some Mordor butt! It's a good day to die! (Plants the standard and sends the white horse running)
(Silarien)
I came here singing to slay some orc
For orc are easily killed
Nobody mentioned a gigantic hawk
With a twenty foot, tooth-lined bill
There's more types of enemy than I can count
But they keep adding more to the list
If you thought I was mean when I was mad
Just watch what I'm like when I'm pissed
(Russ)
Eomer: Hoooweey! Ah's feels purt damn fine! Come on you black Corsairs, if'n y'all wanna dance, Ah still ken teach y'all a step or two... What the?
Odd Narrator: I tried to tell you! Anyway, Even as Eomer raised his sword in defiance of the Corsairs, a great black standard broke upon the foremast of the lead ship and behold! Upon it was a pirate with a silver helm, but over it was painted a crude white tree and over was written "Just Win Baby"? What happened to Arwen's flag?
Aragorn: Hal?
Halbarad: Well, yes, about that, well you see, I was just finishing up with the iron-ons and we were having a bit of wine when Gimli here bumped my elbow and I spilled all over the flag.
Odd narrator: So? It's BLACK! Nobody would have noticed.
Halbarad: I know, but well, I wanted everything to be perfect and so I tried to clean it and...
Odd Narrator: Yeeees?
Halbarad: (points his thumb at Aragorn's shoulder where a black patch with a white tree and seven shining stars and a glittering crown were sewn)
Aragorn: I told you NOT to use the dryer!
Halbarad: But we were in a hurry!
Aragorn: You should have listened to me!
Halbarad: I didn't know it would shrink!
Odd Narrator: all right, all right, what's done is done. Sheesh!
Eomer: Yahhhoooo! (throws sword in the air)
Riders: INCOMING!
Sword: Wow, the people look like little tiny ants from up here.
Eomer: (catches sword)
Riders: We HATE it when he does that!
(Thranduilion)
Shakespearean Narrator: [coming up behind Odd][SHOVE] Now move thee out, thou bootless, elf-skinned scut!
Odd Narrator: Scut?! Hmph. Ah don' get no reshpect. [shuffles off and lights up a cigarette]
Shakespearean Narrator: [guffaw] I do adore these sections to narrate. [clears throat]
Thus came, from darkness black, a hope unlooked-for
The one who bore Isildur's greasy hair
From deadly paths, all crying de profundo,
With Aragorn the tall, the hot, the brave.
The mirth of-
Eomer: Now hang on jist a goldarned minute. [reigns his horse over to S.N.] Yer not gittin away wicher highfalutin' gibberish. Yer jist tryin' to bewitch us wicher fancy words we don' unnerstand, aincha! Well we ain't gonna stand fer that. Now gwan! Git!
All the Rohirrim: Gwan! Git off!
Guthwine the sword: [brandish brandish]
S.N.: [sniffle] [leaves]
Hosts of Mordor: [Seeing Aragorn and his fleet] B-b-b-b-b-but ... Yer supposed ta be on OUR SIDE!!!
Aragorn: Psych! Ha ha, gotcha!
Hal: [snerf] Did you see them double take? Bwah haw haw!
Aragorn and Hal: [high five] BOOYAH!
Knights of Dol Amroth: [drive East drive East drive East]
Various troll-men, Variags, and orcs: Ack! We flee before you! We hate the sun! [cower]
Rohirrim: [drive South drive South drive South]
Various troll-men, Variags, and orcs: Whoa!! Two directions at once. This sucks.
Ships of the Dead: [DISGORGE]
Aragorn and his fleet of living men, dead men, half men, a dwarf, and an elf: [drive North drive North drive North]
Various troll-men, Variags, and orcs: [caught between hammer and anvil] [SQUISH]
Aragorn: Take that, BEEYOCH!!
Hal: What the heck is a Variag?
Anduril: It don't matter, cuz it's DEAD! BWAH HAW HAW HAW!
Hal and Anduril: [high five]
Hal: YEOUCH! [mutters] Never high five with a sword, never high five with a sword. Ow.
[Aragorn and Eomer meet in the midst of the battlefield]
Anduril: Guthwine!
Guthwine: Anduril!
Both: Booyah!
Eomer: Aragorn!
Aragorn: Eomer!
Both: Booyah! [perform 'secret handshake', butt heads] Miss Mary Mac, Mac, Mac, all dressed in black, black...
Eomer: Let's cut the chatter and get us some BLOODSHED!!! Tahw yas llay, nem?!
Rohirrim: HAYOOB!
Aragorn: Are you ready to ...
All the Men Behind Aragorn: RUMBLE!!!
Gimli and Legolas: [smack foreheads]
Gimli: I'm getting really sick of that.
Legolas: You're telling me? Come on, AK, let's blow something apart.
Gimli: NOW you're talking! [they run off to join battle]
(Thran)
Odd Narrator: Can I come back now? Thank you. All that day the fighting went on, and I'm sure the wart corresp- sorry, WAR correspondents- got some of it on tape but you don't really want to see it and it's more interesting when left to the imaginati-
[cut to the War Correspondent desk]
(merithehobbit)
Geraldo: What? [holding ear piece] NO, you are kidding me... huh?
Mary Lou: Yo! Gerald... what's the deal?
Geraldo: It's GERALDO... They cut our scene.
Mary Lou: What scene?
Geraldo: That scene where we get to cover the grand entrance of Aragorn and the gang.
Mary Lou: #%#@! You mean I don't get to film that hottie Legolas? Where's my agent? [stomps off but bumps into Ashley Vainfield.]
Ashley: Oh hi there Mary Lou. What's the matter?
Mary Lou: [in tears] They cut our tape... and I got to do some serious blade work in front of the heir to the throne of Gondor and that glorious Elf he has as a sidekick.
Ashley: Well, that's cuz they're running with mine.
Mary Lou: WHAT? Yours? It only has Merry barfing up a lung on the Rohan boots!
Ashley: Check this out... roll tape.
Ashley Vainfield: Ashley Vainfield War Correspondent here at the brink of destruction, and surrounded by hideous Orcs and other generally disgusting sweaty folk. I have just positioned myself to be nearest the most critical event of the day. [adjusts glasses and holding up scroll] We know that all was looking bleak there and the ships coming up the waterway were causing the hosts of Mordor to rejoice. Sir... sir... may I ask you a question?
Orc: Huh?
Ashley: I just want to know, what exactly are you feeling right this second as the ships of the Corsairs approach to back up your evil army to slaughter the good folk of Middle Earth.
Orc: Uh, great. We just do our job, and try and do it one hundred percent. It's about time the bad guys won instead of constantly just dying in mass numbers to be buried under the victory of some snotty...
Ashley: Just a sec Orc... [adjusts glasses] do you see what I see?
Orc: Oh, that's a good song... huh?
Ashley: I am excited to tell the viewers that the great standard of the White Tree has just been spied, we are saved after all!
Orc: Well, you ain't.
Ashley: EEK! [runs for cover behind Rohan horse]
Rohan guy: [slice, chop] You better git thar sister. Reportin' chicks shudent be here on the battlefield.
Ashley: Oh studly Rohan guy, how do you feel now that Aragorn the greasy has come to save the day.
Rohan guy: Uh. Great. You know, we just train and work and do the best we can each day giving one hundred percent to the cause.
Ashley: Aragorn, and his companions have leapt from their ships right into battle and OHH! [scuttles out of the way of approaching good guys]
Aragorn: [Dodge, swing, chop] Whoa... watch out girl.
Ashley: Aragorn, how do you feel now that you've come to save the day... [ducks] and are slaughtering bad guys right and left?
Aragorn: Uh. Great. We walked the scary path, and gave it all we got, and now we gotta just give more... One hundred and ten percent for all that is good in the world.
Ashley: [watching Aragorn go] That was the future King of Gondor folks... One hundred and ten percent. [giggle] [turns and runs out of the way of some rampaging Carnies] EEK
Gimli: AARRGH! [swinging axe left and right] A woman? What's a woman doing on the battlefield?
Ashley: Oh I can see this dwarf has not been watching the news.
Gimli: Women are for cooking and cleaning and caring for little children... [swipe, orc head flies and plops in front of Ashley]
Ashley: Gross! Uh. Gimli, I am a famous war correspondent, covering the battle... for the viewers at home. Tell me how do you feel coming in several chapters after the Paths of the Dead and saving the day?
Gimli: Uh. Great. We just swing and chop, and give a lot! One hundred percent!
Ashley: Oh great. A rhyming dwarf amongst our ranks.
Legolas: Charms the socks off you huh?
Ashley: [starry eyed] Oh, [breathy] Legolas Greenleaf? Is it true that you have the most accurate arrows in all the land?
Legolas: [Pppfft] yes. I never miss.
Ashley: Well, I do think there were a few times, like in the Mines of Moria that you weren't as accurate as that.
Legolas: [Pfffttt, pffft, pffffft] Did you see me miss?
Ashley: Well, no, you are looking very fine. [smiles] How do you feel Legolas about such a grand entrance to let your skills shine for all the women to swoon over your every move?
Legolas: Uh. Great. You know we just go out there, and do our best, [stabs a Carnie with a long knife] we train, and focus, [guts an Orc with the end of an arrow] [sssssssss] and sometimes it is nasty, but we just have to give... [lip curl]
Ashley: One hundred percent?
Legolas: Yeah! Took the words right out of my mouth.
Ashley: There you have it folks, no apathetic battle going on here. One hundred percent. This is Ashley Vainfield from the front.
Geraldo: You got to meet Legolas? He is one FINE Elf!
Ashley: You're telling me. [snicker]
Mary Lou: [pout] Upstart #$^%$!
(Thran)
Odd Narrator: [wrestling the camera back to himself] ANYWAY! That was entirely pointless, and it suffices to say at long last all the enemy were dead or fled. Hmph.
Lone orc pretending to be dead among the carrion: Except for me, heh, heh, I'm just waiting here for me chan-
AK: KAPLOWEE!
Lone orc: [gurgle] Ooops. [die]
Legolas: You're fantastic, AK. *SMOOCH*
AK: [giggle]
Odd Narrator: Right. Anyway, Aragorn and Eomer and Imrahil, by some chance, were completely unscathed even though they had supposedly been right in the thick of everything all day and it sorta makes you wonder how much they really were doing themselves and how much they were leaving to their 'loyal' subjects, I mean really, how much BRAVERY does it take to send people into battle and stand by on the sidelines and- WHOA, okay, they're getting away. [runs to catch up] Can we have an overhead shot here? They do look grand, all riding back towards the City...
Aragorn: Oh woe is me! Halbarad, called Hal for short, is no more. He will never return to the Northlands! [sniffle] [snuffle] WAAAAAH!
Imrahil: There, there. He wasn't the only brave and high-ranking person to fall today, which actually is good for us noble types because when it's only the peasants and common soldiers that die on the battlefield those fu-
Eomer: -Goldarned anti-monarchy liberal media types have a field day. Tabloids, late night phone interviews, deliberate misquotes, mudslinging; it can get real ugly.
Aragorn: Good point.
Eomer: Besides, some minstrel of Rohan will write an heroic song about today. I'll have him call it: The Mounds of Mundburg.
Aragorn: Brilliant title.
Imrahil: Smashing.
(BadWargMama)
Hey, ho, weepy and woe
The King is in his grave,
Along with those fellahs we liked so well,
That used to be so brave.
But that's okay, we don't mind,
The rest of us are fine.
So break out the ale, the mead, the beer,
And give the ladies some wine.
"Wait a minute," the old guys say,
"Why aren't you fellahs sad?"
"Because, because, you silly old gents,
The livin' aint's so bad!"
They rode and fought and fought and slew,
And killed a lot of orcs.
The rest of us all stood and watched
Heck, We shore aint the dorks.
They fin'ly got themselves all kilt
And left the field in ruin,
Then after all the blood was spilt
Their fun'rel we're a doin'.