Death By Geology!
When you have a big geology test and as soon as you see the essay questions the little Eomer in your head screams:
"Write, Write! To Death... (Etc.)"
The Theoden in your head cries,
"A grim morn, a foul test, and a glorious lunch hour at the Barrow Downs!"
What? Don't you have little Rohirrim in YOUR head? You don't know what you're missing!
Mwa ha haaa!
MAEG!
(With Theoden and Eomer)
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"Wide ne bith wel," cwaeth se the geheirde on helle hriman.
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