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Aphrodel Baggins · 02-13-2003, 06:03 PM

Here's mine

The Choices of Master Samwise

No such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the sexiest vomitorium attendant of old Gondor, nor the most savage great half dead dung beetle entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set a stick of deoderant to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing butt cheeks beneath her and farted backwards in a convulsive leap.

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's runny nose, his senses reeling in the stinky stench, his three hundred eighty four thousand six hundred and twenty nine nostrils still gripping the elastic waist band of the underware. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's ingrown toe nail and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to wet himself himself out of the swoon that was upon him. Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her crusty elbow drabbling a spittle of venom, and a doodoo brown pee trickling from below her wounded smelly butt. There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring-this time to puke and squat to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to poop and then to shriek.

Even as Sam himself ran screaming like a little girl, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken. and he fumbled in his pink tuperware bowl with his left hand, and found what he sought: crappy and extremely disgusting and weird it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the toilet bowl freshener of Boy George.

'Boy George! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the monstrous slugs as they tinkled under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Nearest 7-11, and the music of monstrous slugs as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Richard Simmons.

02-13-2003, 06:03 PM	#155
Aphrodel Baggins Pile O'Bones Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: Hobbiton Posts: 12	Here's mine The Choices of Master Samwise No such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the sexiest vomitorium attendant of old Gondor, nor the most savage great half dead dung beetle entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set a stick of deoderant to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing butt cheeks beneath her and farted backwards in a convulsive leap. Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's runny nose, his senses reeling in the stinky stench, his three hundred eighty four thousand six hundred and twenty nine nostrils still gripping the elastic waist band of the underware. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's ingrown toe nail and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to wet himself himself out of the swoon that was upon him. Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her crusty elbow drabbling a spittle of venom, and a doodoo brown pee trickling from below her wounded smelly butt. There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring-this time to puke and squat to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to poop and then to shriek. Even as Sam himself ran screaming like a little girl, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken. and he fumbled in his pink tuperware bowl with his left hand, and found what he sought: crappy and extremely disgusting and weird it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the toilet bowl freshener of Boy George. 'Boy George! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the monstrous slugs as they tinkled under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Nearest 7-11, and the music of monstrous slugs as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Richard Simmons. __________________ We could let HER do it. - Gollum