[Diamond18]

Vogonwë’s first impulse was to say, “Let’s get ready to rumble!” but before he could, his Idea stepped in and screamed (though being as it only spoke in his mind, and had no legs, lungs or vocal chords, it’s difficult to explain how this was so):

No, no, no, you blathering idiot! This doesn’t fit with our plan! You can never beat him in a fistfight! Think fast, rabbit!

Vogonwë did not know many things, but he did know that he was not a rabbit, and was about to protest, but the others were waiting for him to answer Gravlox, and so he let it pass.

“I think you are misunderstanding my use of the word, ‘duel’,” he said with as studious an air as he could manage. “The very nature of my challenge makes hand to hand combat difficult. See, when two people engage in a ‘duel’, common Wood-Elven custom dictates that the parties stand back to back whilst a third party counts to a designated number, commonly ten. Each of the first two parties takes a step in the opposite direction, corresponding with the numbers being spoken. Once the desired number is attained, each party turns around and shoots at the other party. The first to dislodge his ammo, kills the other and wins. So you see, this is a contest of who has the quickest draw and the best aim. Any questions?”

There was silence. They all knew that somewhere out there, a fourth party was going on, and that it was a real hot, swinging party, with free beer and a rock band. But something also told them that this had nothing to do with Vogonwë’s three parties. Somewhere, a cricket chirped. Chrysophylax ate it.

“I have a question,” Gravlox raised a hand. “What happens if both…parties…‘dislodge’ at the same time, and both get shot?”

“Then both die. Duh.”

“But what does that accomplish?” Merisuwyniel asked.

“Nothing, but it’s very rare.”

“How rare?”

“Medium rare. Now, can we get on with this? Will you accept my definition of a duel, or not?” Vogonwë challenged Gravlox (as opposed to, say, Earnur).

“I have no bow and arrow,” Gravlox said.

“Merisuwyniel does,” Pimpi piped up.

Merisuwyniel clutched the Entish Bow. “Yes, but…”

“There, then that’s settled,” Vogonwë said. “Now, who wants to count?”

“I’ll do it!” Kuruharan volunteered, always having loved numbers. He walked over to Merisuwyniel, ostensibly in order to take the Bow and give it to Gravlox. He winked and told her quietly, “Don’t worry, I know how to take care of this.”

Merisuwyniel nodded and handed him the Entish Bow. The Dwarf carried it over to Gravlox and said, “Take as big of steps as you can, capisce?”

“Right,” Gravlox agreed.

“All right now,” Kuruharan announced in a loud voice, “back to back, belly to belly, I don’t give a damn ‘cause I’m stone dead already— Ahem… I mean, stand back to back.”

They did so.

“One—”

They took a step apart.

“Two—”

They took another step apart. You were expecting something else?

“Three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, nine and one half, nine and three quarters, nine and three eighths, nine and four eighths, nine and five eighths, nine and six eighths, nine and seven eighths, nine and eight sixteenths, nine and…”

[Seven sixteenths later…]

“Ten!”

Gravlox turned around and notched an arrow into the bow. Vogonwë pirouetted and whipped out a couple handfuls of arrows from his sheath.

Gravlox drew back the bowstring. Vogonwë recited a poem.

Or, at least that’s what the others thought. In reality, what he was doing was affixing the most deadly Workmudian Distance-Spanning Aim-Well Spell known to the Children of Ilovetar, to his arrows (as opposed to his hairbow).

Who is Tom Bombadil? (We’ll know when water runs uphill.)
Do Balrogs have wings? (And can they sing?)
Couldn’t the Eagles take the Ring to Mordor?
And was the whole story a metaphor for—
Religion, industrialism, his childhood, World War?
Or was it a prophesy of current events?
And who was the Firstborn, Elves or Ents?
Was the movie any good? (Or does it deserve to be booed?)
Why did they put in Arwen for Glorfindel?
Was it just to sell? (Can’t you tell?)
Was Tolkien racist? (On what do they base this?)
What color is Legolas’ hair? (And does he use Nair anywhere?)
Is Sam gay? (Or was that Gandalf the Grey?)
Are Orcs immortal? And is there a portal,
To Middle-earth? (I think no, for what it’s worth.)
Harry Potter and Star Wars. (Need I really say mores?)

Gravlox released his arrow. Vogonwë released his. They flew through the air, and for one breathtaking moment it looked as if both parties would be struck. But then, lo! Gravlox’s arrow fell to the stones before Vogonwë’s feet, and clattered to a stop dramatically.

Vogonwë’s missiles, however, flew long and true. One by one, in slow motion, they struck Gravlox, some in the exact same place as the others. As each one struck, his head jerked back and his hair flew about his head in an even more dramatic fashion. A look of horrified confusion was writ across his not-so-noble mien—he had never thought that Vogonwë would resort to spells and magick mischief. But so it was.

“Noooooooo!” Merisuwyniel cried, running forward. The very last arrow was flying straight toward Gravlox’s heart, but before it could hit its mark, the lithe form of the Elven maiden intercepted it. This arrow was fixed with the deadliest incantation of all (the one about Arwen) and though it lodged just to the left and above her heart of gold, its effect was terrible.

She fell to the ground with a heart-wrenching cry, and somewhere an orchestral swell could be heard. Pimpiowyn shrieked in horror, Gravlox gasped out the name of the noble lady, and Vogonwë said, “Uh-oh.”