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Celuien · 12-15-2005, 01:40 PM

Horns blared. The traffic snarl went on forever. "Five hours in this mess,” exclaimed Panakeia, and we’ve barely covered 100 miles! But at least we know we’re going in the right direction.” She pointed to a billboard at the roadside. A garish mural of the Mount Doom Casino and Resort, complete with slot machines, card tables and stereotypical blondes sitting by a swimming pool, was painted on the sign. The sign screamed out with excessive numbers of exclamation points and erratic capitalization “MouNt DoOm CaSino and ReSOrT jUSt aheAD!!!! OnLy 125 miLEs to tHe TIMe of yOur LIFE - FoLloW the SiGns!!!!!!! PLay GollUM’s DiVe!!!! JoIN THE PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!” and other similar inanities. “Keep an eye out for the signs, will you Valde?”

Valde nodded and looked out the window. There were signs, some more to the point than others, everywhere, literally covering the side of the highway. A few of the signs seemed to hold actual importance, giving notices about exits, upcoming construction, detours and the like. Approximately twice as many of the signs were devoted to advertisements. But the largest number by far seemed completely irrelevant. A set of five signs spaced several yards apart gave what seemed to be an odd epitaph. “Her chariot | Raced 80 per | They hauled away | What had Ben Her.” Another four proclaimed, “Twinkle, twinkle | One-eyed car | We all wonder | WHERE you are.” Scattered throughout were signposts missing their signs. “I hope there was nothing important on those,” said Valde.

“Judging by the rest of the signs around here, I’d say not,” replied Panakeia.

But she was mistaken. An hour later, they passed another billboard. “YoU haVe missed THe ExiT!!!!!!! Don’T LoSE OUt on THE TIME of YouR LIFE!!!! Go BaCk to M1 and ViSIT tHe MouNT DoOM CASino and resOrt!!!!!!!! 3 mILes BaCk!!!!”

“I thought I told you to look for the signs to Mount Doom,” said Panakeia.

“I was, but they must have been among those which were taken down,” replied Valde.

Panakeia swung her wheel hard to the side, cutting across several lanes and in front of opposing traffic. As horns sounded, traffic scattered, and several accidents took place, she turned around and headed back to the exit, oblivious to several bright lights, like the flash of a camera, that winked behind her.

Panakeia looked down at the odometer. “We’ve almost come three miles now. Let’s make sure we don’t miss that turn. There has to be a sign around here somewhere.”

And there it was. Sandwiched between a pile of abandoned mattresses and a large poster with the picture of a mustachioed hobbit in red was a small arrow shaped sign directing the way to a fork in the road. “Exit: Mordor Interstate 1. To Mount Doom.”

“There it is,” cried Valde. The Cruiser zipped off onto the exit. And somewhere, in the depths of a building far away, a black gloved hand added a picture of a lime green Cruiser to a pile of photos marked "Violation. Payment Due."

12-15-2005, 01:40 PM	#91
Celuien Riveting Ribbiter Join Date: May 2005 Location: Assigned to Mordor Posts: 1,767	Horns blared. The traffic snarl went on forever. "Five hours in this mess,” exclaimed Panakeia, and we’ve barely covered 100 miles! But at least we know we’re going in the right direction.” She pointed to a billboard at the roadside. A garish mural of the Mount Doom Casino and Resort, complete with slot machines, card tables and stereotypical blondes sitting by a swimming pool, was painted on the sign. The sign screamed out with excessive numbers of exclamation points and erratic capitalization “MouNt DoOm CaSino and ReSOrT jUSt aheAD!!!! OnLy 125 miLEs to tHe TIMe of yOur LIFE - FoLloW the SiGns!!!!!!! PLay GollUM’s DiVe!!!! JoIN THE PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!” and other similar inanities. “Keep an eye out for the signs, will you Valde?” Valde nodded and looked out the window. There were signs, some more to the point than others, everywhere, literally covering the side of the highway. A few of the signs seemed to hold actual importance, giving notices about exits, upcoming construction, detours and the like. Approximately twice as many of the signs were devoted to advertisements. But the largest number by far seemed completely irrelevant. A set of five signs spaced several yards apart gave what seemed to be an odd epitaph. “Her chariot \| Raced 80 per \| They hauled away \| What had Ben Her.” Another four proclaimed, “Twinkle, twinkle \| One-eyed car \| We all wonder \| WHERE you are.” Scattered throughout were signposts missing their signs. “I hope there was nothing important on those,” said Valde. “Judging by the rest of the signs around here, I’d say not,” replied Panakeia. But she was mistaken. An hour later, they passed another billboard. “YoU haVe missed THe ExiT!!!!!!! Don’T LoSE OUt on THE TIME of YouR LIFE!!!! Go BaCk to M1 and ViSIT tHe MouNT DoOM CASino and resOrt!!!!!!!! 3 mILes BaCk!!!!” “I thought I told you to look for the signs to Mount Doom,” said Panakeia. “I was, but they must have been among those which were taken down,” replied Valde. Panakeia swung her wheel hard to the side, cutting across several lanes and in front of opposing traffic. As horns sounded, traffic scattered, and several accidents took place, she turned around and headed back to the exit, oblivious to several bright lights, like the flash of a camera, that winked behind her. Panakeia looked down at the odometer. “We’ve almost come three miles now. Let’s make sure we don’t miss that turn. There has to be a sign around here somewhere.” And there it was. Sandwiched between a pile of abandoned mattresses and a large poster with the picture of a mustachioed hobbit in red was a small arrow shaped sign directing the way to a fork in the road. “Exit: Mordor Interstate 1. To Mount Doom.” “There it is,” cried Valde. The Cruiser zipped off onto the exit. And somewhere, in the depths of a building far away, a black gloved hand added a picture of a lime green Cruiser to a pile of photos marked "Violation. Payment Due."