Hobbiton is shit. I am so through with Hobbiton. Seriously. Fuck Hobbiton. The women are all bearded rapists and the men do nothing but sing madrigals and grow phallic vegetables in garden plots. My best mate Frodo’s got engaged to one of those hairy tarts. He kept screaming no, waving his little arms about – but she wouldn’t cease in her advances, forcing on him one of those faux gold rings with tacky Elfin lettering on the side. Such has been the fate of all too many young male hobbits.
But he’s already planned an escape, my man Frodo has: he’s bought himself an all-inclusive, week-long trek in the alpine region of Mordor, setting off by coach at half six on Thursday morning. The trek culminates in a visit to Middle Earth’s largest and most scenic volcano, Mount Doom, where you can get your picture taken for a small fee by a dwarf in front of the lava flows. The sherpa for the trek’s a bit dodgy though, I hear: some skinny ned called Gollum with ripped tracksuit bottoms, a tartan baseball cap, and a consuming penchant for cheap bling. A possible source of discord, I fear, but apparently a powerful wizard – Gandalf or some shit – is coming along too, so he should keep that skanky pleb from downing too much Buckfast and stealing people’s jewellery.
Anyway, Frodo plans to give his engagement ring a surreptitious toss into the volcano pit; when he gets back he’s going to make up some bullshit story about the ring harbouring sinister powers, necessitating its molten destruction lest it fall into the hands of the evil Lord Sauron (he got the name from one of those obscure Korean soap operas he likes to watch). The important thing, however, is that he’s asked me to come along with him. Apparently there’s a stopover in Rivendell, the notorious Elf brothel, for a bit of rough sport with some leggy bints. Lads on Tour Mordor 2011 – has a certain ring to it. I might order t-shirts.
Samwise Gamgee, Lower Hobbiton, 2011.
But he’s already planned an escape, my man Frodo has: he’s bought himself an all-inclusive, week-long trek in the alpine region of Mordor, setting off by coach at half six on Thursday morning. The trek culminates in a visit to Middle Earth’s largest and most scenic volcano, Mount Doom, where you can get your picture taken for a small fee by a dwarf in front of the lava flows. The sherpa for the trek’s a bit dodgy though, I hear: some skinny ned called Gollum with ripped tracksuit bottoms, a tartan baseball cap, and a consuming penchant for cheap bling. A possible source of discord, I fear, but apparently a powerful wizard – Gandalf or some shit – is coming along too, so he should keep that skanky pleb from downing too much Buckfast and stealing people’s jewellery.
Anyway, Frodo plans to give his engagement ring a surreptitious toss into the volcano pit; when he gets back he’s going to make up some bullshit story about the ring harbouring sinister powers, necessitating its molten destruction lest it fall into the hands of the evil Lord Sauron (he got the name from one of those obscure Korean soap operas he likes to watch). The important thing, however, is that he’s asked me to come along with him. Apparently there’s a stopover in Rivendell, the notorious Elf brothel, for a bit of rough sport with some leggy bints. Lads on Tour Mordor 2011 – has a certain ring to it. I might order t-shirts.
Samwise Gamgee, Lower Hobbiton, 2011.
