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Nevfeniel · 10-01-2002, 08:17 PM

Ooh! Ooh! Just found this new Mad Libs!

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 weirdest senior loan processor of old Gondor, nor the most savage alien entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set TV to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing eyebrows beneath her and fired backwards in a convulsive leap.

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's feet, his senses reeling in the oily stench, his a few dozen scalp still gripping the handle of the coffee mug. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's hair and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to fly 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 fingernail drabbling a spittle of venom, and a sea-foam green lemonade trickling from below her wounded face. 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 scratch and whistle to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to drive and then to swim.

Even as Sam himself ate, 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 basket with his left hand, and found what he sought: grungy and scruffy and smelly it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the blankie of the master himself, J.R.R. Tolkien.

'the master himself, J.R.R. Tolkien! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the entwives as they crawled under the stars in the beloved shadows of the mars, and the music of entwives as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of uncle Tim.

10-01-2002, 08:17 PM	#11
Nevfeniel Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Mithlond Posts: 783	Ooh! Ooh! Just found this new Mad Libs! 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 weirdest senior loan processor of old Gondor, nor the most savage alien entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set TV to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing eyebrows beneath her and fired backwards in a convulsive leap. Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's feet, his senses reeling in the oily stench, his a few dozen scalp still gripping the handle of the coffee mug. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's hair and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to fly 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 fingernail drabbling a spittle of venom, and a sea-foam green lemonade trickling from below her wounded face. 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 scratch and whistle to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to drive and then to swim. Even as Sam himself ate, 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 basket with his left hand, and found what he sought: grungy and scruffy and smelly it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the blankie of the master himself, J.R.R. Tolkien. 'the master himself, J.R.R. Tolkien! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the entwives as they crawled under the stars in the beloved shadows of the mars, and the music of entwives as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of uncle Tim. __________________ Consider the purr a variety of audible tranquilizer. [. . .] For a few of us, there is one more purr, a secret purr. When we combine our secret purrs, we produce the Purr of Power. And that is simply the amplified amity we feel as furred and purred beings.