“So Frodo,” Gandalf said, “will you take on this epic quest?”
“Uhh … no.”
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
Welcome back to Tuesday’s Tale, a weekly feature where we collaborate to write a story. Previous Tuesday’s Tales include Box of Rocks and ClichéMixMaster. We follow the basic rules of the “Yes, And” improvisational game – accept everything written so far as part of the story, and add your own paragraph (or so) where the last addition left off – except you needn’t begin your addition with “Yes, and.” I’ll start the story….
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Note: Today’s tale is, obviously, a variation on J.R.R. Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings.
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Gandalf’s beetling eyebrows rose. “What? Umm … why not?”
“Let’s start with us,” Frodo said, sweeping an arm to indicate the Shire. “We’re hobbits. Short, jolly, almost childlike. Peace-loving farmers who would never hurt anyone.”
“Right,” Gandalf noted.
Frodo shook his head. “It’s complete horseshit. Look, this is an allegory and the Shire is bucolic England. But we’re not exactly peace-loving farmers who would never hurt anyone. We’re ‘The Empire on which the Sun Never Sets.’ We have colonies all over the damn place, guarded by soldiers who conspire with some natives to keep the other natives in line. Heck, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, His Majesty is your Sauron guy.”
“But–” Gandalf began.
“–And that was just for starters,” Frodo continued. “Then there’s the notion of the fate of the earth being determined by,” he paused to chuckle, “jewelry. Did England fall when King John lost his family jewels in the Wash?”
“His family jewels weren’t magical,” Gandalf said.
Frodo shrugged. “Mrs. John might have disagreed. The point is, no, England didn’t fall. Of course, your Sauron guy hasn’t fallen either, but … and this is where you’re over-egging the lily–”
“–You mean gilding the lily,” Gandalf interrupted. “Or over-egging the pudding.”
“Whichever,” Frodo said. “Let’s say England would fall if the crown jewels were stolen … but only if they were brought back to Buckingham Palace and melted down in the basement furnace. Coz that’s the gist your ‘throw the ring in the fire of Mount Doom’ plan. It just seems a tad … contrived?”
Gandalf puffed on his pipe. At first, he blew smoke rings. Then they transformed into pound signs. “Yes, but … movie rights.”
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Have fun!
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Image Credit: PolygonBronson (DeviantArt>
Sam, who was supposed to be pruning the bushes under the window, popped up his head and looked in. “But Mr. Frodo, it would be an adventure!”
“Who cares,” said Frodo. “Most hobbits aren’t inclined to adventure, which is why the army recruiters are always hiding a shilling at the bottom of a tankard of ale, trying to sucker us into uniform. And those who got suckered? How many of them have you ever seen again?”
Gandalf harrumphed. “I am not suckering you into anything. I asked for a favor to save the hobbits from a different evil empire. Sauron’s evil empire which could undo the hobbit empire.”
Frodo put his hands on his hips. “Oh? And just how will they do that?”
Gandalf drew his brows together in a frightening frown. “The elves are leaving.”
Frodo danced around the room. “Ooooh, the elves are leaving, the elves are leaving! Who is going to notice, I ask. No one sees them anyway, they’re so hoity toity. Too good for the likes of us.”
“Ah,” said Sam quietly. “I always wanted to see an elf.”
“On this adventure you shall,” Gandalf promised.
“Well then, it’s settled,” said Frodo. “Sam can take the crown jewels to the basement furnace and melt them down. Then we shall all see how useless this adventure is. The jewels were lost in the Wash. Now they shall be lost in the furnace. I hope his Majesty is warm this winter.”
“But I can be in the movie?” Sam asked eagerly.
At that Frodo paused. “A movie?” he asked. “Right, you did mention that, Gandalf.” He began smoothing his hair and straightening his shirt. “A movie. All for going to the basement of the palace?”
“Well,” Gandalf said, “the producers focus-group tested that, and it turns not nobody really wants a three-movie epic adventure story that ends at a basement furnace, not even if it’s the basement of Buckingham Palace. So they already have set designers working up ideas for Mount Doom.”
“That’s Sauron’s place,” Frodo explained to Sam.
“I know, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. “I was listening while I was pruning your bushes.”
Frodo smiled. “You are such a handsome gardener, Sam.”
“Ahem,” Gandalf said, “this isn’t Brokeback Mount Doom. I know you and Sam are close but, it’ll have to be just friends for this story. The focus groups were very clear about that. They’re even going to give Sam a kinda-sorta love interest.”
“But I already have a kinda-sorta love interest,” Sam said.
“A female love interest,” Gandalf insisted.
“Umm, what about me?” Frodo asked. “Do I get a love interest?”
Gandalf shook his head. “No. You’re going to leave at the end, with me and the elves, to go into the West.”
“Go into the West is a euphemism for dying,” Frodo said.
“True,” Gandalf said, “but the focus group didn’t like the idea of all of us dying. So we get on a big boat. In the fourth ending.”
“The fourth ending?” Sam asked.
Gandalf nodded. “The first ending is Frodo tossing the ring into the furnace. Then some guy you’ll meet along the way will become a king again. Then we help a bunch of living trees take out Saruman. Then we get back to the Shire and Sam reunites with his love interest. And then you and I join the elves and get on the boat.”
“That’s five endings,” Frodo said. “People will be in their cars and halfway home by then.”