Excruciating Epic

Bad Writing by Old Toby


Frodo of the Nine Fingers

 
Now here's a tale worth telling, in ages long ago,
about a certain hobbit known only as Frodo.
He lived a quiet and peaceful life until that fateful day
when Bilbo, dear old Bilbo, gave his golden Ring away.
Well Frodo had to leave the Shire because, you see, this Ring
was property of the old Dark Lord, a hateful, evil thing.
So he had to take it to the Elves to see what could be done;
with Ringwraiths chasing at his heels, it really wasn't fun.
On the way he met Aragorn who looked worse than he was;
he carried lots of weapons, like every Ranger does.
But he turned out to be a friend and knew the landscape well,
and led them all to safety, to Elrond's Rivendell.
There they had a council and decided that the Ring
had to go back into the Fire to destroy that wretched thing.
So Frodo and a bunch of others "volunteered" to do the deed,
and off they went to the Mountain of Doom with Gandalf in the lead.
 
Beneath the mountains, in Moria, they met all kinds of things
not interested in pretty elves or dwarves or golden rings;
nasty goblins and cave trolls and something much, much worse-
a Balrog with a temper! Oh my, the place was cursed!
Gandalf tried to hold them off but in the end he fell
far down and down into the dark, where it ended none could tell.
Far away from Moria they ran, into the Golden Wood
and there they met Galadriel who high above them stood.
She gave them food and drink and gifts and lots of free advice;
they left there very reluctantly because she was so nice.
They rowed on down the river till they came to Rauros Falls
where they were set upon by Uruk-hai who tried to kill them all.
So they all split up, this Fellowship, and went their separate ways,
not to see each other once again for many, many days.


Lots of stuff happened then to everyone involved;
kings and hobbits, humans and elves, all 'bout the Ring revolved.
Ents and wizards, orcs and goblins, oliphants and more;
it's so confusing to keep track of everything in this War!
Not to mention Gollum, that creature who kept track
of everything that Frodo did, who sneaked behind his back!
That scheming and conniving wretch, so pitiful but still,
held a prisoner by the Ring, a slave unto its will.
While Aragorn-remember him?-was trying not to be King,
while Frodo was considering not throwing in the Ring,
while the Dark Lord was contemplating rabble at the Gate,
while Gandalf, risen from the dead, thought grimly of their fate,
Gollum seized the moment-carpe diem, you might say-
and bit off Frodo's finger with the Ring! It made his day!
But in his wild exuberance he fell into the flame,
and from that day forward the Dark Lord was not the same.
And that, friends, in a nutshell is the tale-oh how sublime!-
of how Frodo lost his finger and now only counts to nine!