horse-tailed helmets flashing and a forest of tall spears.
He got as far as Worcester and decided, um
this War against Sauron? Not really his thing.
He turned & descended on Ralph’s Chadwick Square Diner
to watch the Patriots and Broncos wail on each other.
Muster the Rohirrim.
The Lord of the Mark rode forth in glory! Das right.
To Stop and Shop to be precise.
Looking for some of that totally excellent Tuscan wheat bread.
They were out. They’re always out.
What’s a King of Rohan gotta do around here?
I mean, I gave you people Helm’s Deep already.
Fuck it. Fell deeds awake! Ride to fire and slaughter.
The Lord of the Mark is a bit testy these days, to tell the truth.
First the freaking Dunlanders with their gimme gimme gimme
and now this whiny greaseball Saruman.
I mean what the fuck? I should have drop-kicked
his ass at Orthanc when I had the chance, bitch.
Nothing’s on TV.
The Lord of the Mark will ride! Forth Eorlingas!
The Lord of the Mark has no wife. Which seems kind of weird, really.
But Eowyn makes goo-goo eyes at Aragorn and for once
you wish he didn’t have such a Numenorean stick up his ass.
But once a shield-maiden always a shield-maiden, am I right?
Unless you happen to smite a Nazgul. Oh yeah.
The flowers in Gondor are lovely this time of year.
Begone, foul dwimmerlaik!
The Lord of the Mark has a new immigration policy:
more Ents, less Orcs! Bastards make a huge mess
and refuse to clean it up. What am I, the lord of welfare?
Still, they’re rather handy for target practice.
Memo to self: order that new armor from Amazon
worked with cunning shapes and shit.
Great heart will not be denied.
The Lord of the Mark has had enough, people!
Entreaties from loyal subjects? Ruling
with a firm but merciful hand? Am I not Theoden King?
OMG freaking Erkenbrand with his Powerpoint
presentation on next season’s wheat yield. Super-lame!
Cue spears clashing on shields. “I totally need a vacation,” proclaims the Lord of the Mark.
Ride now to ruin and the world’s ending.