If MM had written LOTR

[Kinsley Castle]

Okay, I'll have a go at kicking this forum off. A while ago on the Straight Dope message board, someone started a thread with the premise: what would Lord of the Rings have looked like had a different author written it? I did this Michael Moorcock version inspired by that thread.


Jerry Cornelius leapt from his Duesenberg, his needle gun in hand, and took careful aim at the hobbits. The creatures ran screaming, but he shot three down before they made it to their holes, and barricaded themselves inside.

"Pathetic," he said. "I wonder what my brother Frank wants with them?"

Una Perrson got out of the car behind him.

"Are you sure it's Frank?" she said, and adjusted her ammo belt.

"Yes I'm sure. He wears that silly fake beard and calls himself Gandalf, but he doesn't fool me. I know he has Catherine hidden here, somewhere. If he hurts her I'll kill him... again."

Una Perrson examined the hobbit hole, squeezing off a few rounds into the darkness, on the off chance of hitting something. "There are too many of these hobbits. How are we ever going to find the one with the ring?"

At that moment, a dark rider appeared on the horizon, sniffing at the air. He rode into Hobbiton, and dismounted by the Duesenberg. He saw Jerry and Una and approached, pushing back his hood to greet them. It was an albino face beneath that hood, aristocratic, but marred by a troubled, self-absorbed look.

Una smiled. "Prince Elric. This is an unexpected pleasure. But I'm afraid our quarry has gone to ground."

"Tis no problem," the Albino replied, bowing low. "We'll soon have them out of their holes. And the sooner we send that ring off to Sauron, the sooner we can all go home."

From an ancient scabbard Elric drew a huge black sword, which screamed with blood lust in anticipation.

[Kinsley Castle]

Yes, I know. It's very silly. :P

[Yrieix]

'Tis.

[Scorpio]

I think it would have gone more like:

"Mrs C had won a trip to California, mainly by scratching silver paint off a piece of card she found in a magazine. She delayed as long as possible, but a pre-sapien instinct to not miss out drew her finally to Gatwick as the moon draws the tides.

On arriving, juiced up and ready for action (hours stuck in the 'plane anaesthetized by gin and the thought of real-live movie stars) she managed to down a few fruit filled cocktails, sniff some south American snuff someone offered her, blacked out for a bit and woke up in her two-star hotel with a room full of dead men.

Some of them were young, and had ponytails.

Some were not so young, and were patching their hair together as they went by.

One of them was actually quite handsome.

With a muffled giggle and a resigned air, she prepaid for another month in the hotel on Jerry's card (this sort of thing happened to him all the time, he'd know how to deal with it when the reckoning came) and found herself a seedier and more comfortable hotel off Melrose Avenue where she enjoyed the rest of her stay, coming fatly home with a pierced nipple and an Amerindian skull."

Horror in Tinseltown
Filming of the epic "Lord of the Rings" cycle has been postponed indefinitely, due to the sudden and tragic vice-related deaths of the entire special effects team in LA. Insiders are blaming a cult who oppose Mr Talkine's works with a fanatical hatred, on the basis that they are pretentious garbage. More news soon...."

...Okay, I cannot do MM's style (though I do a passable Ian Fleming/Andy Mc Nab/Helen Fielding, which proves nothing except I usually have terrible taste) but at least it's original.

And arguably - rated as fiction - an improvement on fact.... :lol:

Not to be negative or nuffink....

S

[Scorpio]

PS should add - I'm not a writer, I just write. Sometimes.

As different as a puddle and a rainstorm, or something (see this sentence for why I'm not a writer). :oops:
S

[Jerry Cornelius]

The Touch

Horror in Tinseltown
Filming of the epic "Lord of the Rings" cycle has been postponed indefinitely, due to the sudden and tragic vice-related deaths of the entire special effects team in LA. Insiders are blaming a cult who oppose Mr Talkine's works with a fanatical hatred, on the basis that they are pretentious garbage. More news soon...."

Excerpt Source: People Magazine, July, 1998

That would have been the touch, mate.

J.C.

[Scorpio]

LOL!

S

[Kinsley Castle]

"Corr, they din't arf make a mess."

Nice one Scorpio :mrgreen:

You were angling for the movies, whereas I was thinking more of the books, and this habit of MM's characters to go wandering off through the multiverse and land up in all sorts of strange places. So why not Middle Earth? In a multiverse where every conceivable environment exists, there ought to be one or two that look like middle earth, if you catch them in the right light. Isn't that a scary thought? I tend to think of them as dystopias --- anything that's insufferably and cloyingly "nice" must be too good to be true.

[Shaeve]

this habit of MM's characters to go wandering off through the multiverse and land up in all sorts of strange places. So why not Middle Earth? In a multiverse where every conceivable environment exists, there ought to be one or two that look like middle earth, if you catch them in the right light. Isn't that a scary thought?

Errrr..The enviroment does exist Bruce...its called NEW ZEALAND ...

If it exists we got it...hehehe

Surely one of MM`s characters has escaped to NZ, or gone under the witness protection scheme here...J/k

[Kinsley Castle]

Errrr..The enviroment does exist Bruce...its called NEW ZEALAND ...

If it exists we got it...hehehe

Surely one of MM`s characters has escaped to NZ, or gone under the witness protection scheme here...J/k

The Bishop Beesley came through the customs barrier at Auckland airport. His mitre, which he carried under his arm, presently served as a receptacle for the various confections that had sustained him on the flight. Every now and then he would reach into it and retrieve, in his fat fingers, a Mars Bar or a square of Turkish delight.

He paused and waited for Mitsy Beesley to fetch the luggage, and when she returned, laden with suitcases and trunks, he said, "Well my dear, here we are. New Zealand. They have everything in New Zealand, I hear."

Mitsy said, "You haven't told me exactly what we're doing here, your Grace. Some scheme, perhaps?"

"A King among schemes. They have everything here, you see -- rain, clouds, cold, rediculous flightless birds, but above all, Hobbiton, and a veritable feast of hobbits."

"Marvelous," said Mitsy, as she looked around for the luggage trolley. "I've always wanted to see a hobbit."

"And you shall. You will find they are uncannily childlike, in their stature, in the delicate lines of their little faces, in the suppleness of their skin and their childlike innocence, even when they are well over the age of consent. And I have bought Hobbiton with all of its hobbits. We shall run it as a retreat for our brothers in the Catholic priesthood."

"That's quite impressive," said Mitsy. "And debauched and sinister at the same time. Won't the New Zealander's object?"

"Why no, my child. They've practically invited me in. They even offered me a place in their witness protection program."

[Was that the kind of thing you meant? ]

[Shaeve]

hehe...nice one :P

[Yisselda]

I t would be nothing alike. with more swearing and straight to the point. and have torture.

[xidrep]

MM LOTR

How about this?

'Fa-li-la-dah diddly Oh! Tom's a dingle-dangle po!' Sang Tom Bombadil, prancing aroud the sunny glade.
'Tralala tinsley ting! I am a soggy & very wet thing!' chimed Goldberry from the rose-gardened cottage.
'Piss off' muttered Jerry, reaching out for the Jim Beam in the Phantom IV's drinks cabinet. He pulled up the collar of his car coat and pretended he was somewhere else.
'Tossers' he added, philosophically.

Even the films left THEM out.

Perdix (son of Bendix)

[Pietro_Mercurios]

Tom had finally caught up with the River King's daughter. "I'm a goin' to go for a bit of a fishin' and a thrashin' about in amongst your reedy shallows, my Dearest! With a Hey! Nonny nonny and a dippin'of my dingle-dangle, oh!"

"Oh! Tom! come in and a-splishy and a-splashy. I'm going to love you long time." Like magic, her usually icey, sparkling brook, warmed and melted, softly, into a warm and steamy Mekong Delta.

Jerri-o recalled the invitation to strip off, roll about and go skinny dipping. 'Might be worth guddling for a trout, or two, after all.' He considered, reaching for a long stemmed claypipe and the ancient eelskin pouch full of Bombadil's special herbal mixture...

Of course, the question of whether such pagan throwbacks, to an irrational, animistic past, could be left to further entangle an already complicated timeline would still have to be addressed. He remembered the thermonuclear 'tac in the boot of the Phantom IV, but that was a decision that could be left for a little while. Peacefully, he blew an extravagent roiling purple smoke ring into the air.

[Alien696]

moorcockian Lotr.

Drawing his sword whilst it was imbedded in the soulles body of one of gthe hobbits around him he warranted a cynical sneer at the demonic powers they definitely didn't have. The lead hobbit launched at him and tried to bash his skull in with a mallet, however the black runeblade thirst was more pominent in the scream of the leg hugging freakboy as it's soul came gurgling out like sewage.
Elric closed his eyes trusting his safety to Arioch since he definitely could still amuse the lord of chaos more than some sheep shagging wannabe dwarves. Scything through all of the assorted hobbits with the power of a guillotine Elric laughed, once more....