I stuff a handful of shrooms into my gob. Nompf omf momf andâ
GALUMPH!
âhere we go!
âââ
The world resolves into a cliff-dotted range of grass-coated rocks. Off in the distance, lively waterfalls hiss and sputter.  What the hoozis? Must have hop-skipped into another dimension.
Suddenly, I hear rapid clapping and slimy gulping, coming from somewhere off to my left. Niceâsomeoneâs close by. Hopefully, whoever that is can help me out.Â
I start making my way through a deep gully, bordered by sheer walls of damp stone. Donât know where I am, but the sceneryâs pretty. I just hope there arenât any monsters, like sandworms or exogorths orâ
I round a corner and my mouth drops open. Ho. Lee. Shit.
Sam and Frodo are spit-roasting Gollum, pumping away with their stout Hobbit dicks. Frodoâs got back, Samâs got front.Â
(Fucking knew it!)
I shuffle backward, intent on leaving with no one the wiser, but Sam spots me and shouts, âOY!â As he pulls out, Gollum glances at me, and Sam finishes right in his eyes.Â
âIT BURRRNNNNSSSS!!!â Â Smeagol crooks his arms and wails at the sky.Â
Sam shouts, âGet him Mr. Frodo! If Rosie finds out, sheâll be cock-stomping mad!âÂ
I turn around to beat a hasty retreat, but Sam grabs a spud out of their stewpot, screams, âPO-TAY-TOES!â and slings it as hard as he can, hitting me in the side of my right knee. (Fuck! Forgot they can throw rocks like nobodyâs business!) My foot goes numb, I stumble to the ground, then scoot frantically away on my hands and my butt.Â
âDonât!â I show them my palms as they back me against a gully wall. (Jesus Christ, Gollum is HUNG! Who would have thought?)
âWe canât let you live,â Sam hisses. âYou know too much.â
âWhat the fuck, man? I have nothing against gay people, buttplay, orââ
âWatch him, Mr. Frodo!  Iâm going to get a knife!â Sam goes running toward their campsite.Â
Frodo stares at me with those creepy big eyes. âIf Gandalf finds out, he will turn against us.â
âGANDALF?!?â I sputter. âMaybe you havenât read the news, but heâs the LAST person you should be concerned about! Lookâhook up with whoever you want, as long as youâre not hurting anybody!â My eyes flick over to Gollum. âItâs justâŚâ
âWhat?â Frodo prods.
âStandards, maybe?â I hiss through my teeth and give him an awkward, questioning look. âI know youâve been on the road, butââ
âIâve got it, Mr. Frodo!â Sam tromps back, knife in hand. âLetâs cut him up and throw in the stew!â
Fuck. THIS. Ainât no way Iâm getting eaten by the Middle Earth version of cannibalistic rednecks. So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality-distortion powers. Magic flash.
âWhat devilry is this?â Arwen comes running over, looking angrily from Hobbit to Hobbit. âWhy are you harrying this handsome wanderer?â
The Hobbits exchange a nervous look. Sam says, âAhâŚIâŚâ
âAway with you!â  She flaps a disgusted hand. âAnd for IlĂşvatarâs sake, put on some clothes!âÂ
As the Hobbits go scrambling off, she reaches down and helps me up. âNever once, in all my years on Middle Earth, did I think that Gollum bore such fleshly might.â
âI know, right?â I dust off my thighs. âGuyâs packing a .50 cal barrett.â
She gives me a once-over, curling a lock of hair behind her ear. âJudging by the bulge on thy inner leg, you are just as blessed as Smeagol Trahald.â
âIâm flattered,â I chuckle. âBut I got a thing for super-hot soccer moms. You check off the first box, butââ
âAs of today, I am two thousand, nine hundred and one years old.â
My jaw drops. âYouâŚuhâŚâ Then I clear my throat and regain my composure. âWell letâs get to fucking! Hot damn!â
And so my entry into Middle Earth concluded with another joyous entry: into the Elven equivalent of a blazing hot soccer mom. Kent Wayne wins again! HEH heh heh!
đ
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