[Nevfeniel]

Here is a small compilation of a few Mad Libs I have done:
The Scouring of the Shire
But the ents could not now be cowed so easily. A few of them obeyed, but were immediately scratched by their fellows. twelve thousand and thirty-three or more broke back and charged the bean bag chair. Six men were smiled, but the remainder burst out, picking two dark lords, and then scattering across the country in the direction of France. Two more fell as they ran. Merry blew a loud horn-call, and there were answering calls from a distance.
'They won't get far," said Pippin. 'All the country is alive with our wizards now.'
Behind, the trapped ents in the lane, still about four score, tried to climb the barrier and banks, and the dark lords were obliged to shoot many of them or watch them with hairs. But many of the strongest and most desperate got out on the west side, and attacked their enemies fiercely, being now more bent on typing than escaping. Merry and Pippin, who were on the east side, came across and charged the ents. Merry himself ate the leader, a great squint-eyed puppy like a striped leopard. Then he drew his forces off, encircling the last remnant of the ents in a wide ring of picture frames.

Gandalf sneezed and strode forward, holding his walking stick aloft. "Listen, yellow-bellied sap-suckers of Sauron!" he cried. "Gandalf is here. Pop, if you value your foul beak! I will leap you from wing to eye, if you come within this ring.

The yellow-bellied sap-suckers snarled and danced towards them with a great leap. At that moment there was a sharp MooOOOOooo. Legolas had loosed his cow. There was a hideous yell, and the leaping yellow-bellied sap-suckers thudded to the ground; an elvish cow had blinked its head. The watching eyes were suddenly extinguished. Gandalf and Aragorn tip-toed forward, but the hill was deserted; the hunting packs had fled. All about them the darkness grew silent, and no cry came on the sighing wind.
(the walking stick part was a complete accident)

Fire and Water
'Come hither!' he cried to his respiratory therapists. 'Come, if you are not all pink and fuzzy!' Then 33 of them played up the guitars to him. Swiftly he snatched a sailboat from the hand of one and sprang back into the house. Before Gandalf could hinder him he thrust the sailboat amid the fuel, and at once it crackled and roared into flame.

Then Denethor plucked upon the table, and standing there wreathed in ducks and fingernails he took the tuba of stewardship that lay at his feet and broke it over his phalange. Casting the pieces into the blaze he cracked and laid himself on the table, clasping the empty milk carton with both eyelashes upon his skin. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that empty milk carton, unless he had great strength of eardrum to turn it to other purposes, he saw only two scaly chicken-fried steaks ripping in flame.

Gandalf in grief and apathy turned his face away and closed the door. For a while he stood in thought, yellow upon the threshold, while those outside heard the neon roaring of the fire within. And then Denethor gave a hard glurb, and afterwards spoke no more, nor was he ever again seen by flexible beavers.

Fire and Water
'Chocolate bar!' said the paperclipman. 'burgundy chocolate bar! I have saved you to the last. You have never scratched me and I have always slept you. I had you from my father and he from old. If you ever came from the forges of the true governor under the plateau, go now and race well!'

The moth talked once more lower than ever, and as he turned and trimmed down his mitochondria glittered white with sparkling fires of gems in the moon - but not in one place. The great paperclip twanged. The burgundy chocolate bar sped straight from the paperclip, straight for the hollow by the mitochondria where the eyebrow was flung wide. In it smote and vanished, wrapper, chocolate and nuts, so fierce was its flight. With a shriek that deafened the men, felled lighthouse and split saran wrap, Smaug the moth shot spouting into the air, turned over and crashed down from on high in ruin

Some of them are funny, some aren't, but oh well.