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.
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.
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