LOTR: the make~fun~of version

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Okay, I found this really funny story online.  Acctually, my friend found it and sent it to me.  Anyway, I am going to post it here as soon as i get on my regular computer.  It is a make~fun~of version of LOTR.  I have the character list memorized, so I will tell you who is who right now.

Frodo~~~Frito Muggins
Samwise~~~Spamwise
Peregrin (Pippin)~~~Pigbutt
Meriadoc (Merry)~~~Gloomy
Bilbo~~~Milmo Muggins
Elrond~~~Belchrod
Legolas~~~LegoLass Greenwead
Gimli~~~Gimme
Gandalf~~~Grandgolfer
Aragorn (Strider)~~~Arrogant son of Arosol (Wussie)
Boromir~~~Boringmir
Galadriel~~~GadYouSmell

There are others, but I can't remember their real name (or I don't know how to spell it).  Here are their 'make~fun~of' names:
IsHeDull
Sourman
SoreOne
Dorks

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Here are some places and other people (I know I left things out) :

Rivendell~~~RiverSmell Casino Resort and Hotel
Shire~~~Mire
Ringwraiths (black riders)~~~Pink Riders
Mordor~~~MoreDorks
One Ring of Power~~~Topee of Power

I know I forget stuff, but here is the short list.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Gored by These Things

PART I

Long ago when the world was young, the gods gathered together for a contest of strength. And in that great game of tiddlywinks, the loser became very angry and kicked the game board over and fled to middle earth, vowing revenge upon the world and claiming that he lost because everyone else cheated. He became known as the great dark lord, SoreOne. And in middle earth he began forging the trinkets of power. Three plastic party horns he gave to the elf lords and they used them in their never-ending beer parties. Seven rubber clown noses he gave to the dwarf kings, but they wore them not in public because their color clashed with the color of their beards. Nine disposable plastic salad forks he gave to the kings of men, and they became gluttons and would not dispose of them. But last of all, in secret, he forged the one toupee of power from a dead skunk he found on the highway near the land of Moredorks. Into this poorly made, smelly toupee SoreOne poured much of his might, malice, and body odor, so that it let off a foul reek and the few friends that he actually still had, stopped dropping by unannounced. And through his skill he enslaved the other trinkets of power so that the toupee ruled them all and the owners were subject to his will and had to pay for his lunch whenever they all went out to Chuck-a-rama.

When SoreOne put on the toupee, the elf lords became aware of what he had done and immediately declared he should destroy the ugly toupee or move to a new neighborhood because he was lowering their property values. And when SoreOne would not do so, they got out of their hot tubs and stopped partying long enough to declare war on him, and they brought along their buddies the frat men of Nu Mu Omega. For seven long partyless (but by no means alcohol-free) years they laid siege to SoreOne's apartment in the land of Moredorks. Finally in the end after many were slain by the stench of the toupee, IsHeDull, the son of Lazydorf, knocked the smelly rag from SoreOne's head and slew him with a rusty can lid. Then Belchrond, the elf lord, urged IsHeDull to cast the toupee into the Dumpster of Doom, but IsHeDull, being not very bright either took it for his own and began to wear it. The elves were too tired after seven years of no partying to mess around with IsHeDull, so they hired some of SoreOne's dork buddies to knock him off. They slew him with many toothpicks as he swam away in the great river, leaving his family and friends behind to die. Mercifully, the toupee sank to the bottom of the river and was lost. Though no one ever drank its water or went swimming there for many years.

After many ages, the creature Gollygeepers, a disgusting muckraker, found the toupee while dredging up scum and gunk from the river for dinner and he put it on his head and was enslaved by its malice and foul smell. He was so embarrassed he ran away to a cave to hide. There for many more long boring years he dwelt eating nothing but fish and chips in the dark. Finally, an odd-looking midget traveler Milmo Muggins from the land called the Mire, came to the cave, hit Golly on the head with a rock and stole the toupee, though he later claimed to have won it in a riddle contest. (In truth he did ask a question, "What have I got in my hand?", just before he konked Golly on the head from behind). Milmo went back to the Mire to write books, eat cheese, belch, and become famous for his heroic adventures even though he only went as far as Belchrond's Vacation Resort and Casino in Riversmell and rarely left the lobby bars of the hotel the whole time he was gone.

Milmo hid the toupee when he returned to the Mire and rarely used it. After several years he felt the urge to return to Belchrond's and its all- you-can-eat buffet. So at the urging of the wizard Grandgolfer, he forced toupee on his poor unsuspecting nephew, Fritos, and ran away with all of Frito's savings.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Grandgolfer was a mighty wizard and loved to golf. He often appeared in the Mire during the off-season to play a few rounds at the Bywater Links and hang out with a few pathetic hobbits that hung out there in the club house. He dressed in red and green checkered pants and shirt with a floppy orange golf hat that had a fuzzy ball on the top and he carried and leaned on an old bent five-iron. Once he had been good at golf and had played for a few years on the pro circuit, but that was hundreds of years ago, and now he spent most of his time trying to get out of the sand traps and deep rough.

Grandgolfer became interested in Frito's toupee. For even though he tried to hide it, everyone knew he had it because of the smell. After researching the matter deeply for several seconds one afternoon, he realized that the toupee must be the One Toupee. So he went to visit Frito.

Knock - knock

Frito: "Who's there?"

Grandgolfer: "Grandgolfer."

Frito: "Grandgolfer who?"

Grandgolfer: "Grandgolfer, the mighty wizard and former professional golfer."

Frito: "Grandgolfer, the mighty wizard and former professional golfer, who?"

Grandgolfer: "You know the guy you met down at the Bywater Links club house, that Grandgolfer."

Frito: "Grandgolfer, the mighty wizard and former professional golfer, the guy I met down at the Bywater Links club house, that Grandgolfer, who?"

Grandgolfer: "Oh shut up and let me in you doofus!"

Frito: (opening the door) "Oh, you!" (with disappointment)

Grandgolfer: "Frito I have come to tell you that your toupee is one of the most evil things in the whole universe!"

Frito: "Yeah, I know everyone says that."

Grandgolfer: "No, you fool, I mean it is the One Toupee, forged ages ago by the dark lord SoreOne, from the skin of a roadkilled skunk in the land of Moredorks, and containing all of his ill will and mighty evil power"

Frito: "Get off! You're from Candid Camera, right? Where’s the camera, dude?"

Grandgolfer: (striking Frito viciously with the five-iron) "No, I'm telling the truth. You must run away because the nine riders are out looking for you right now and if they find you with the toupee it will not be a pretty sight! So go now, before it's too late. The fate of the whole world depends on this. For if SoreOne gets his grubby little mitts on the toupee again he will enslave the whole world and make us all eat at McDonalds and use Microsoft products! No fate could be worse. If you are wise… OK, if you have even half the intelligence of a run-over toad you will take my advice and flee to Belchrond's in Riversmell. I'd come with you, but I have a gold tournament down at Sourman's place in Wizzing-gord, that I really don't want to miss. Oh, and for heavens-sake take Spamwise your gardener with you for comic relief, OK

Frito: "Sure thing, if you say so. My head hurts. What time is it?"

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

So Frito left for Riversmell with Spamwise and two of his cousins, Pigbutt and Gloomy, who could not be kept behind for they had heard Milmo's description of the all-you-can-eat buffet too many times to be left behind. He left everything behind, except for a big sack of chocolate coins wrapped in gold-colored foil left over from Halloween, that he hoped he might be able to palm off on some unsuspecting sucker for the real thing.

Frito traveled incognito using the alias Mr. Mouldyhead and he made a beeline straight for the Puking Pony, a inn in the small town of Screech, that was famous for its beer and illegal whiskey, stronger than a mule-kick in the gut.

At the inn in Screech, Frito met a dark stranger. He was sitting in the common room wearing a dark green uniform with a Smokey Bear hat. When he asked the innkeeper who it was he replied that the man was a ranger, known only by his nickname, Wussie. Eventually, the ranger cornered Frito and Spamwise in the elevator and demanded they speak with him. They went to their room and talked, while Pigbutt and Gloomy drowned themselves in gallons of cheap ale.

Wussie: All hail Frito Muggins, you freakin' idiot! You are in grave danger. You have left the safety of the Mire and are now at the mercy of the servants of SoreOne, the dark lord. Even now they seek you to steal the item you carry.

Frito: How did you know my real name? And how did you know about the One Toupee?

Wussie: I stole all your wallets and read your names off the credit cards. And as for the Toupee, the item I was talking about was that ham sandwich in your backpack. But now I realize you are carrying the One Toupee of Power and I could take if for my own if I wish!!

Frito: Please do, it stinks!

Wussie: No, no, I will not be tempted by that evil rug, you must keep it yourself. But cast it not away, for if the riders get it then really nasty things will happen. I have no wish to spend the rest of my life watching Brady Bunch reruns!

Frito: Very well, but I am really afraid now and fear that I cannot make it to Riversmell on my own if I am hunted by these riders of which you speak, Wussie.

Wussie: DON’T call me that!!! My name is Arrogant, son of Aerosol, and I am heir to the high kingship of Nu Mu Omega! And I can whip your butt any time you little runt. Plus, I can speak Elfish and Russian and have a IQ of 198, so I can out-think you too!

Frito: Very well, Braggart…<br>
Wussie: That’s ARROGANT!

Frito: Whatever. I would ask you to guide us to Riversmell - myself, Spamwise here, and my two cousins Pigbutt and Gloomy. Will you do it?

Wussie: I would like to do so, believe me, Mr. Muggins, but I do have certain expenses that I would need to pay. How about, oh…. $5000?

Frito: (with a sly smile) Would you accept gold coins?

Wussie: Of course!

Frito: It’s a deal.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

That night Frito and Spamwise slept on the floor in Wussie’s room, in case the Riders broke in and tried to give them wedgies as they slept in the night. Pigbutt and Gloomy spend the night in the Screech County Jail drunk tank. In the morning they checked out of the hotel, bought a Shetland pony and began walking through the polluted swamp on the outskirts of Screech.

“Why are we going this way, Mr. Frito?”, asked Spam.

“I will lead you through the wilds of this land to avoid the snares of the enemy,” replied Wussie. “We will survive on my woodcraft, my intimate knowledge of these parts, and on the 47 cases of twinkies we loaded on the back of our poor pony.”<br>
“Also none of us has enough money to pay the toll on the road, ever since Wussie here lost all of our wallets” stated Frito.

“Shut up”, said Wussie.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Several days later the group halted for the night on the summit of a tall hill. They were caked in dried mud and were all glowing in the dark from the covering of toxic waste they had picked up while crawling through the swamps. Their stock of twinkies was beginning to get low, but they had a several two liter bottles of Mountain Dew, and a half eaten bag of Teriyaki beef jerky which they had stolen the night before from a group of unsuspecting dwarfs who had being camping in the same area as them.

Frito and Pigbutt went to the top of the hill with Wussie, while Gloomy started a fire and began to roast some twinkies. Spam went to fetch some water for the twinkie soup. As they stood at the top of the hill, Wussie said:

“As you pin-headed ninnies probably didn’t know, many ages ago there was a theme park here, but it was ruined during a great oil crisis long ago. Below us you can see the toll road that leads to Riversmell.”<br>
“You know, Wussie, I can really relate to you,” said Pigbutt. “My real name is Peregrin, but everyone calls me Pigbutt, just like they call you Wussie.”<br>
“Oh yeah, well I could whip your little piggie butt in an arm wrestling contest any day of the week runt, so don’t forget it!”<br>
“What's that down there?” asked Frito in alarm.

Below on the road were five blindingly bright pink dots.

“Crapsie! It is the Pink Riders! They’ve found us! Run! Hide! They are terrible!”<br>
Wussie screamed and ran down the hill as fast as his feet would carry him. Frito and Piggy followed as fast as they could.

They found Wussie hiding under his sleeping bag with his hands over his eyes, and his socks stuffed into his ears. At the top of the hill they saw five bright pink figures slowly walking toward their camp. They were all overweight and dressed in bright pink leisure suits with fake silk shirts and pink elevator shoes. Several of them wore pink feather boas and most had gaudy watches and jewelry on. All carried a single disposable plastic fork in their right hand and a plate full of food in the other. Disco music blared in the background and they drew closer to the now terrified hobbits.

Frito felt a terrible itching on his scalp and an almost uncontrollable urge to take out the toupee and place it on his head. He threw his backpack down on the ground and began digging around for the toupee frantically. Finally, with the faint sour reek of garlic and unwashed feet, it fell from the pack onto the earth, where Frito quickly picked it up and slapped it onto his head with a sickening, wet slapping sound. Immediately the disco noise grew louder and he could see the neon pink riders swaying their hips to the beat as they drew closer. The chief rider lifted his blue speckled plastic fork menacingly over Frito's head and stabbed downward. But at just that moment Spam jumped at the rider brandishing a burning twinkie on the end of an unbent coat hanger. The boiling cream filling splashed onto the rider's face and it's blow went wide of the mark stabbing into Frito's butt instead of into his heart.

The rider screamed in frustration. "Man whaddidya do that for! You jerky little midget!"

Spam waved the flaming twinkie in front of the enraged rider and the flames caught onto his plastic fork of power and it began to burn, letting off thick dark smelly smoke.

"Aieeeee! The fork of power! It melteth! Retreat! Retreat! We must retreat and reforge the fork! Curse you plastic melting Halfling scum. We shall meet again and our revenge will be… it will be… really… … revengeful!"

The riders turned away quickly with nasty glances in Spam's direction and then ran back to the top of the hill where the bright pink ponies were fidgeting nervously. Spam turned and saw Frito lying on the ground with the smelly toupee next to him and a broken plastic fork tine sticking out of his fleshy rear end.

"Yeah! Straight on dude! Don't even think about comin' back either or I'll kick your butt again, you pink freaks!" yelled Wussie shaking his fist.

"Ouch! Oh man! My butt!" moaned Frito.

"Fear not, little Frito! I will heal you - I have an IQ of 198, you know" said Wussie as he pulled out a knife.

Frito fainted.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

For the next few days the five companions traveled through the wilds. Accosting passing motorists and hikers and taking their food and money. Frito grew steadily worse. He began to grow delirious and hummed disco tunes as they walked. One morning they awoke to find him splitting the seams in his trousers and adding in extra fabric to turn them into bell bottoms. Wussie punched both Gloomy and Piggy in the gut and stole their remaining supply of whiskey while they were doubled over in pain. This he quickly gave to Frito and put him in a drunken stupor to stop his terrible humming.

"I fear that part of the fork remains in his fleshy butt and is slowly working its way inward. He is slowly turning into a disco freak. If we do not make it to Riversmell soon, I fear he will become permanently discoed", moaned Wussie.

That day they decided to take to the road despite the risk of running into the Pink Riders. They grabbed an old grey-haired grandmother from her Volkswagen Beetle and tossed her into a dumpster at the rest area and then headed down the road with Wussie driving, Frito and Spam in the front seat, and Pigbutt and Gloomy in the back with the pony and the two remaining cases of twinkies.

Finally after many hours of travel they approached the turn off to Belchrond's Resort Hotel and Casino in Riversmell. However, the road was blocked by several state police squadcars that had put up a roadblock. The pink uniformed officers were searching each car as it passed.

"Those policemen look strange" said Spam suspiciously.

"Relax, they're just local police, they have different uniforms than in the Mire" said Wussie.

"Good afternoon, thralls of SoreOne.. I mean, citizens. May I ask your business in Riversmell?", said the officer that stopped their car.

"Just here for the weekend to gamble away a ton of cash!", replied Wussie.

"Have you seen a group of four hobbits, a ranger, and a mangy sick looking pony?"

The pony in the back seat whinnied in indignation.

"One of the hobbits is probably a bit sick."

Frito vomited all over the front seat.

"And the ranger goes by the name of, Wussie!"

"Don't you mean, Arrogant, son of Aerosol?" asked Wussie evenly.

"Whatever."

"Nope haven't seen them"

"Oh, OK, well have a nice time in Riversmell."

Wussie drove off to the Casino. And the four hobbits sighed in relief. They had made it! At the top of the hill they saw Belchrond and Grandgolfer standing in the driveway to the hotel arguing and hitting each other with their matching doofy hats. Wussie parked the car and the three healthy hobbits carried Frito into the hotel. Spam went back later with a bucket and a sponge to clean up the pony's mess in the back seat. Now they were safe, he thought.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

It took several days, but the skill of Belchrond and his mixture of vinegar, Crisco, raw onions, dried tomatoes and bleach administered orally four times daily soon had Frito back to normal.

To the four hobbits, Belchrond's Resort Hotel and Casino in Riversmell was unlike any place the poor, uncultured slobs had ever seen or imagined. The bar alone in the main casino hall had more square footage than all the bars in all the taverns in all of the Mire. And they soon discovered that much of what they took for Elfish coming from the mouths of the innumerable elfs that crowded the place, was really just badly slurred English. They quickly learned to stay away from the public bathrooms.

One day, as the four hobbits were sneaking around the building looking for the dancing girls' dressing room they inadvertently bumped into Wussie who was walking through the halls with a elf lady on his arm and a rather distressed look on his face. The elf woman was wearing leopard-skin pants with a bright green polyester blouse. She had several gaudy rings on her hands, a huge ugly gold necklace around her neck, and her face was caked with layers of red, blue and purple makeup.

"Hiya, Wuss.. I mean, Arrogant," said Pigbutt cheerfully.

"Ooooooh! Arry-pooh! What are these cute little things!", said the elf woman picking up Gloomy and pinching his cheek.

"We are hobbits from the Mire", said Frito helpfully.

"Oooooooh! Arry-pooh! They're so cute!! Can we keep them! Pleeeeeeeease!", she crooned again, giving Gloomy a loving squeeze that cracked three of his ribs.

"Now, Barwench, my love, you know that your father would not approve of you making slaves of hobbits!"

"Daddy will do whatever I want and you know it!", she said with a pout.

"But, Barwench,.. honey… be reasonable, these hobbits don't really want to be enslaved and kept as pets, they'd be unhappy."

"Well, I think I'd be very unhappy without one. And if I get unhappy, then Daddy gets unhappy. And if Daddy's unhappy then you might just lose that fancy uniform and hat, buck-o, so just you figure out a way to let me keep them!", she said savagely. "Ooooooh, they're sooooo cuuuuuute!", she squeaked again, crushing Gloomy, who passed out for lack of oxygen.

"Oh, honeycakes! Um… did you know that they shed from those furry feet of theirs?"

"WHAT! Eewwww! Yucky! Arrogant, you know I'm allergic to foot hair! How could you! Oh, just wait 'til Daddy finds out you tried to give me one of those… THINGS! He's going to be so mad…"

Barwench dropped Gloomy like a plague-infested carcass onto the floor. He fell onto his head with a hollow thud and the elf princess stomped off angrily.

"Nice girlfriend you have there, ARRY-POOH!", said Spam with a snicker.

"Bite me!", muttered Wussie.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Later that morning as he was coming down to the buffet, Frito noticed a familiar small figure coming out of the casino. He sprinted and tackled him from behind before he could get away.

“Uncle Milmo, you thief! It’s so good to see you!”, hissed Frito squeezing Milmo’s throat as hard as he could.

“Why, Frito, my lad! How … surprising to see you here!”, replied Milmo after Spam, Gloomy & Pigbutt had pulled Frito off.

“You stole my savings, left me that foul-smelling toupee, and ran away, you bald-footed loser, you!”, screamed Frito.

“Stop fighting you two half-grown, empty-headed ninnies!”, said Grandgolfer importantly. “Belchrond has summoned you both to the council. It is strictly BYOB, so you’d both better hurry and get ready!”<br>
Frito arrived at the council chambers a few minutes later with several six- packs of beer. Belchrond, and a group of elfs were doing the limbo in the corner. A troupe of bearded dwarfs were sitting at a wooden table noisily singing German drinking songs. And Arrogant was wearing a Nu Mu Omega jacket and chatting with a group of obviously drunk men that were similarly attired.

When Belchrond saw Frito enter he quickly turned the limbo music down from earth-shaking volume to merely headache-causing volume and called out, “Dudes! Time for the council thing, man! The midget-guy’s here with the Toupee!”<br>
Everyone gathered around and Belchrond introduced them all. Most were Elf- lords, but he thought he recognized the names of some of the dwarfs.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but are you Gimme, son of Groin, THE Groin, who helped my Uncle Milmo when he single handedly slew the great dragon, Smokie!”<br>
“What the flip are you talking about?”<br>
“Aren’t you the son of Groin, the companion of Boring Croakingshield, who regained his kingdom under the mountain only with the valiant assistance of Milmo Muggins?”<br>
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, kid, but my daddy, Groin, is a tailor. The only Boring Croakingshield I know was the local garbage collector and worked on the side stealing bicycles for the mob, before he ran away, that is. The king under the mountain is a real stud of a dwarf named Grumpy who killed an evil witch with the help of his seven companions, Sleepy, Sneezey, Doc, Bashful, Happy & Dopey. Stinky, the last companion was killed when he refused to take a bath. As far as I know there’s never been any leprechaun-midget-guy named Milmo in our kingdom, ever.

“I see,” said Frito shooting Milmo a nasty look. Milmo only smiled weakly.

“Geeeze, what a dummy,” mumbled Gimme to the other dwarfs who all laughed and pointed at Frito.

Belchrond cleared his throat.

“I believe I was talking, thank you. Now, Milmo here has the One Toupee and it stinks really bad and we can’t let SoreOne have it, so he’s gonna have to go destroy it. I’ve made a list of the people who are going with him and they HAVE TO GO, so don’t even think about trying to get out of it.”<br>

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Two tough-looking elfs in black suits and dark glasses magically appeared behind him and stared at the rest of the group with their arms folded across their beefy chests.

Belchrond began reading the list. “Frito Muggins, son of Mustard, halfwit… I mean, Halfling. Grandgolfer, the tacky wizard and all-around loser (chuckle). LegoLass Greenweede, son of Goofball, King of Smirkwood, an elf. Gimme, son of Groin, a real dwarf’s dwarf. Boringmere, son of Dentalfloss, the Steward of Gondola, a girly-man! Arrogant, son of Aerosol, heir to the high kingship of Nu Mu Omega, AKA Wussie (snicker). And the three loser Halflings, Spamwise Gangrene, Pigbutt Tookie and Gloomy Brandychaser. You're gonna need some cash, but fortunately, my dud of a son-in-law-to-be here is loaded with gold coins, so he's paying. Any questions? Good! Now get lost! For the rest of you, PARTY TIME!”<br>
Wussie sputtered indignantly as the tough-looking elfs quickly escorted the nine companions to the door of the casino and dropped them all there with their luggage in the snow before slamming and locking the door.

“Now where do we go?”, moaned Wussie in despair.

“Might I suggest that me make our way south along the western slopes of the Pissedy Mountains to the gap of Rogain, and thence eastward to the realm of Gondola. The average annual rainfall there is a healthy 32 inches per year and the native species include the wild fruit bat, the red fox, the spotted nut-chaser,….”, began Boringmere.

He dragged on for another 45 minutes explaining the geological history and the population density of his country until each of the other 8 companions was numb with boredom. Finally, Grandgolfer could take it no longer and cast a spell on Boringmere that froze his mouth shut.

“Geeze, now I know where he gets his name! OK, everybody, just follow me!”<br>
For days they trekked slowly southward along the Pissedy Mountains National Hiking Trail. They camped outdoors during the day and snuck along at night, stealing food and beverages from the ice chests of sleeping campers. After many days the trail led to Suicide Pass through the high peaks of Zipperdingle, Calamine, and Kenmore.

“Even though it is now winter and there is at least 360 feet of snow in the high pass and the pass is dangerous even in the height of summer, in my wisdom, I believe we should attempt to pass over the mountains here and make our way to the woods of Lorie-Ann. I fear the spies of SoreOne, follow us too closely.” said Grandgolfer giving the short man in the black trenchcoat and sunglasses a suspicious look.

“I agree,” said Wussie hacking the spy with his sword.

“Good one!”, said Pigbutt and Gloomy with stupid smiles.

“Actually, it might be wiser, given the unusually low winter temperature in this alpine region of… never mind”, said Boringmere as everyone gave him a nasty look.

“There is a better way!”, shouted Gimme. “The Mines of Lessia, where my cousin, BaldOne, now dwells!”<br>
“Did you get that?!”, yelled Frito to a group of dark-suited men who were gathered around an unmarked van with antennas and satellite dishes on the top, and who were all trying very hard to look like they were NOT spying on the nine companions, even though there was no one else around. “Geeze, Gimme, why not just go over and hand them a map and a travel itinerary.”<br>
“Very well, Halfling, I shall do so, but it seems unwise to me.” Gimme pulled a map out and began to walk toward the van.

“He’s being sarcastic, dope!” said LegoLass, pulling the dwarf back.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

“Hmmm,” said Grandgolfer. “Gimme’s route is much more dangerous, given the nameless evil that now dwells in Lessia and has no doubt killed his cousin, BaldOne. We could easily all be killed or suffer an even worse fate. But if the escalators are still working, then we wouldn’t have to hike so much. Let’s go!”<br>
In no time the company found itself at the entrance to the mines. Cut into the side of a cliff was an ornate door. There were carved images of elf and dwarf women with clocks in their stomachs and the doors themselves were covered with strange elfish and dwarfish writing.

“Can you read the writing, Grandgolfer?” asked Gloomy.

“Were you born stupid, or do you have to practice at it?” said the wizard, cuffing the hobbit in the back of the head. “Of course I can read it. It says… Well, I’ll let Gimme tell you what it says.”<br>
“The writing says: ‘In case of emergency, break glass, and pull handle to enter the mines’ Oh and it also says, ‘Beware, Nameless Evil inside may be hazardous to your health.’ This last one here that's written in spray paint says, "Grandgolfer is a lumpy old son of a…”

"Ahem! That will do. Thank you SO much, Gimme!", said Grandgolfer.

He pompously broke the glass and pulled the handle. A siren sounded as the doors swung open and a large scary octopus thingy dragged itself out of the lake near the doors.

“I’m gonna get you and eat you all,” it said in a bored voice.

It was holding a romance novel in one of its tentacles and most of its twelve eyes were busy reading the book. The other arms half-heartedly grasped for the companions or threw rocks at them. The companions backed into the mines.

“Oh shucks! You got away! Darn!”, said the monster, its voice tinged with fake frustration.

It slammed the doors and they all heard a locking sound.

Grandgolfer pulled out a flashlight and began to lead them through the mines. They went on endlessly and much to Grandgolfer’s chagrin, the escalators and moving sidewalks were all broken and the power was off. After three days of journeying in the dark, they finally came to a wide dimly-lit hall with a huge glass-covered sarcophagus. Inside lay the final, but well-preserved, remains of BaldOne. A huge unlit neon sign loudly proclaimed, “See BaldOne, Lord of Lessia – Admission $2.” Skeletons lay all around on the floor – both of dwarfs and those of evil dorks.

“Alas, BaldOne is dead.” said Grandgolfer sadly.

“Good riddance!”, muttered LegoLass.

“Take that back, pretty boy!”, growled Gimme.

“Whose gonna make me, shorty?”<br>
“Me and my, axe, for one, you girly-elf!”<br>
Before LegoLass and Gimme could actually come to blows, however, Pigbutt, pulled a fire alarm switch he had found on the wall and a loud siren began to wail, while a series of red & blue lights began to flash all up and down the cavern.

“Ooops. Sorry.”said the blushing hobbit.

The others all rolled their eyes, except for Grandgolfer who turned and gave Pigbutt the finger.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

Suddenly a group of fowl-smelling ill-tempered dorks dashed into the room. When they spotted the group of companions, the largest one – the leader – called out.

“OK, Charlie, we found ‘em! Call in the cave troll!”<br>
They held up their swords menacingly and began to advance.

“Actually, the term ‘cave troll’ is incorrect,” began Boringmere. “The cave troll, is really not a troll at all, but a relative of the common mountain dork with a exceptionally large body and small brain that has adapted over the years to its dark cave environment by…”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, shut up and attack them!”, yelled Wussie, who was hiding behind LegoLass.

“No! Keep talking, Boringmere! Look!” said Grandgolfer.

The advancing dorks and the cave troll were all staring vacantly ahead into space and beginning to nod off in boredom. Boringmere continued to drone on about the scientific name for the cave troll and its adaptations to cave- dwelling and soon the whole troop of dorks was fast asleep on the floor snoring loudly.

“Quickly!” whispered Grandgolfer, elbowing Pigbutt and Gloomy hard in the ribs to wake them up. “We must flee before the enemy awakens!”<br>
The company ran swiftly following the bright green signs on the ceiling that said, “EXIT” with green arrows beneath. As they reached the final bridge over a bottomless pit, they heard a loud and threatening noise behind them. They turned to look and they all screamed in utter horror.

“Aiyeeee, Crapsie!”, sobbed LegoLass. “An ancient demon! A Baldfrog!”<br>
“BaldOne’s Bane!”, shrieked Gimme!

“Ooooh is he UGLY!”, muttered Pigbutt.

A large grossly fat, but heavily muscled figure advanced toward the bridge dragging the knuckles from its four yellow arms on the cave floor.

“You guys taste good!!”, it said with a sigh of delight and it opened its eyes in pleasure.

“Don’t eat us!”, screamed Wussie, wetting his pants. “Eat him!”, he pointed at Grandgolfer and pushed the old man toward the huge yellow nightmare. The tackily clad wizard stumbled on the bridge and tripped over his bent five-iron falling directly into the clutches of the monster.

“Ooooh, Yummy!”, it called out in delight, salivating in anticipation.

But Grandgolfer stumbled into the creature and they both teetered on the edge of the bridge, on the brink of falling into the pit. Suddenly Wussie’s shoe came flying through the air and hit the beast in the back, knocking them both into the bottomless abyss.

“You stupid jerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk!”, screamed Grandgolfer as he fell.

“Run away!”, yelled Wussie, heading for the exit with the rest of the company hot on his heels.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

The company sank to the ground in exhaustion outside the caves. Then they all began to laugh, slap each other on the back and give each other high- fives.

“Grandgolfer is gone,” said Wussie, “now I must lead the company of the toupee.”<br>
“Oh that’s just wonderful!”, said Gimme sarcastically, the smile suddenly vanishing from his face.

“But where do we go now, Wussie?” asked Frito.

“That’s ARROGANT, son of Aerosol!”, said Wussie, grabbing Frito by the throat and lifting him off the ground. “Don’t you forget it again!”<br>
He tossed Frito on top of Spamwise and Gloomy.

“Gosh, he’s a sensitive one, isn’t he, Mr. Frito?”, said Spam with a disgruntled look.

“I will now lead you to the woods of Lorie-Ann,” said Wussie. “It will require a great deal of tracking skill and woodcraft to find the way, but I will do so, after all I have an IQ of…”

“198! We know!”, moaned the rest of the company.

Following the paved four-lane highway and the large green signs with arrows that read, “Woods of Lorie-Ann National Forest – 5 mi.”, the company soon found its way to the borders of that land. There they were met by a bored elf in a uniform similar to Wussie's who charged them $5.00 each for admission and stamped their hands.

“We must now meet with the Lady GadYouSmell!”, said Wussie to the elf.

“Sure, bud. Whatever. Follow the signs to the visitor’s center.”<br>
It took fifteen minutes of walking to reach the visitor’s center, and when they got there they had to take a paper number from the machine. Frito pulled out the number 89 and handed it to Wussie as the clerk behind the counter called out loudly, “Twelve!” Seven and a half hours later they found themselves in the presence of the Lady of the Wood, GadYouSmell.

She was a blonde elf-lady, about five feet tall and must have weighed close to 350 pounds. She held a half-eaten jelly donut in each hand and her lips and cheeks were stained a bright, sticky red from the raspberry jelly. The reason for her name became painfully obvious as the whole room was filled with the stench of bad BO.

“Whadaya want?!” she demanded rudely between bites of donut, crumbs flying as she spoke.

“We are the Company of the Toupee which set out from Riversmell”, said Wussie loudly.

“Yeah? So what? Like I’m supposed to give a crap, or something?”, she said stuffing the last bit of donut into her mouth and grabbing another two from a nearby box.

“Well… we kinda thought you would put us up for a few days and give us some food and maybe some transportation to the Land of Moredorks after that,” said Wussie hopefully.

“Yeah? And maybe I could give you all a million dollars spending money and a brand new Mercedes while I’m at it?”, she sneered.

“Oh goody!” said Pigbutt and Gloomy simultaneously.

“Look! You paid your five bucks to get in, so you’re free to look around and spend all the money you want at the gift shops and the snack bars, but don’t come running into my office with some lame story about a Toupee of Power and how you need me to give you junk, OK. I didn’t get where I am today by givin’ stuff away to every band of vagabonds that comes running though with a sob story. So quit wastin’ my time an' get your sorry butts outa my office now, before I call the security detail in here to kick ‘em out!”<br>
“Whooo! What a Woman!”, sighed Gimme, now hopelessly in love.

“But, but… I’m Arrogant!” said Wussie indignantly.

The elf-queen merely stared evenly into his eyes.

“No! I mean, I am Arrogant, son of Aerosol, the heir to the kingship of Nu Mu Omega. I have an IQ of 198!”<br>
“Sure. And I’m the queen of England. Get ‘em out of here, Larry.” She said to one of the aides standing nearby as she turned her back to them and reached into the donut box again.

[Klayia_Greenleaf]

The entire company was frog-marched out of the office and into a waiting paddy-wagon which drove them to the border of the forest where they were unceremoniously dumped into the river.

“Well, that went well!”, said Frito clinging to a slimy log.

“Actually, by almost any measure our visit was a complete failure. Not only did we fail to obtain the requisite aid for which we journeyed to this land, but we also failed …”, began Boringmere.

“Aw, shut UP!”, shouted the rest of the company in irritation.



They floated down the river for several days. Everyone so depressed that no one even tried to climb out. Finally, they came to a lake with a waterfall and the company dragged their waterlogged bodies up onto the shore and tried to dry off. Gimme, found a pile of dry garbage and a partially-filled flame-thrower which he used to start a fire and burn Pigbutt's backpack. Soon, they were naked warming themselves by the fire while their clothes dried on nearby logs.

"The Company of the Toupee must now make an important decision," began Wussie importantly.

"I want Pepperoni!" shouted Pigbutt.

"No, get Hawaiian!", said Gloomy with an evil glance.

"But, cooked pineapple is gross! Pepperoni's better!" yelled a now irritated Pigbutt.

"I must've told you at least a hundred times, I can’t eat stuff that spicy." said Gloomy, grabbing Pigbutt by the collar and shaking him.

"You retarded Halfling fools!" yelled a quite upset LegoLass. "Stop your idiotic fighting! We can have both, we'll be getting at least three pizzas! Right, Wuss… uh, Arrogant?"

"Actually, I was talking about which way we go now," said Wussie.

"Oh." said Pigbutt, Gloomy and LegoLass with disappointed whines.

"It seems to me that the only logical course of action at this juncture would be for the company to continue its progress along the western banks of the great river, across the mouth of the river, Dentwash, and on southward. Along the way we could enjoy the call of the wild spotted titmouse, which is native to those parts and, if we are truly fortunate, we might even catch a glimpse of the slimy mug-nosed toad, an rare endangered species found only… hey! Why's everyone asleep? Where's Frito?"

Frito had slapped on the toupee and run away as fast as he could as soon as it became apparent that Boringmere might open his mouth. He ran to the top of the hill, took off the toupee and sobbed.

"Why did this foul moldy piece of &*$#, ever come my way?" he moaned.

"Come, little Frito. The toupee is a nice-looking bit of rotten skunk- skin!", said Boringmere who popped up suddenly from behind a rock. "I quite like it! Why if I had that toupee, maybe women might not find me to be boring at all!"

"Hideous, maybe, but not boring", said Frito under his breath.

"What was that? Oh, never mind! Frito, I'm sorry to say this, but you must give me the toupee or I will kill you. First, I will pull out my rather large and threatening sword and then I will swing it in a downward sweeping motion toward your neck, this will immediately sever your carotid artery and jugular vein and will result in slow loss of… Aiyeeeee!"

Frito ran swiftly away as Boringmere fell to the ground clutching his crotch.

"That does it! End of the world or not, I'm outa here", he said tossing the toupee into the river and jumping into one of the boats.