Frolijah — part 22 – A Prank, a Script, a Laugh?

by Jun 15, 2004Other News

Frolijah – part 22
A Prank, a Script, a Laugh?

Recap: Elijodo received a strange poem/ letter and has arrived and will soon need to act . . . not that he knows it. Frolijah is engaged in a bet to see if he can make Legolas laugh before Merry and Pippin can get Gimli to.

Disclaimer: The sun is a mass of incandescent gas, a gigantic nuclear furnace, where hydrogen is built into helium at a temperature of millions of degrees . . . and I own Tolkien’s characters (and real people) about as much as I own it. That is, not at all. I don’t even own the song that’s from – “Why does the sun shine?” An excellent song, by the way. You should listen to it.


Once again, I was stuck in Rivendell. This would be so incredibly boring for you, the reader, that I’m not going to talk about myself more this chapter. But it’s okay – I’ll just keep listen to these elves sing, eat, and . . . hey, are those mushrooms? See ya . . . you can go watch Frolijah for a while.

Frolijah stood alone (he wasn’t worried about the others finding this weird; they’d think it was a Ring thing) and contemplated a glob of brown slush in his hands. He had considered using the Ring to sneak in invisibly and glob it on Gimli, but knew the others would be mad at him, not consider it funny. Even so . . . only his knowledge of the Ring’s power kept him from slipping it on. He was of the opinion that a Ring unused was a Ring wasted. But then again . . . even if he was book-less, the hobbit understood that the Ring was Bad, and that trying it on would be a Bad Idea. He also knew that when things are in Capital Letters, you shouldn’t mess with them.

So how would he get Legolas to laugh that high elvish laugh of his? Now that he thought about it, Legolas wouldn’t laugh at pranks. He was an elf prince, not a young hobbit. So how, how, how could he get him to laugh? If this long-planned prank to dye Gimli’s hair brown didn’t work?

In disgust, Frolijah threw the glob down, wiped the excess on his pants (his hygiene was practically non-existent by this point) and decided to go with a more . . . logical approach. And now would be a good time. Legolas was standing a little separate from Gimli looking unhappy, thanks to Merry’s last prank to get Gimli to laugh (involving a leaf, a pink handkerchief, and an imitated bird call.) So what better time to approach him?

“Hey, Legolas,” Frolijah said, sidling up to him. “Why don’t you laugh more?”

Legolas looked down at the hobbit in surprise, as `Frodo’ hadn’t paid him much attention before. He considered the question, then opened his mouth to answer.

“No, don’t tell me. It doesn’t really matter,” Frolijah said smoothly. “What’s important is I’m worried about you.”

“I assure you -“

“And I think that you could use a laugh. You don’t have to laugh at anything in particular, but you really should. Did you know that laughing is good for you? And that it strengthens the heart against heart disease and cardiac arrest? And can reverse some of the effects of cancer? And can bring down social barriers? And is better for you than running? Now you know.”

The questions that hung unanswered in the air were: a) how Frolijah knew all that, b) what heart disease, cardiac arrest and cancer were, and c) did they exist in Middle-earth.

Oh, and why Legolas would need to exercise more when they were walking all day.

“So you see, you should laugh more. Elves are known for their high lovely laughter, but you haven’t laughed yet. Why not?”

“I -“

“I know; I know. It’s the Oliphaunt, isn’t it?”

“What about it?”

“Well, here you tell Oliphaunt jokes. Admit it. So, how do you fit an Oliphaunt into a refrigerator?”


“Stop talking in one word. I’m serious.”

“What’s a refrigerator?”

“It’s a – you don’t know?”


“Oh. They must not have them here. It’s a . . . um . . . system of keeping, um, ice to . . . to keep things cold. Fancy word. You know?”


“Ah, ha. That’s good. Right. Excuse me, I’ll just go over here.”

“He is acting very strangely,” Merry noted. “And I think the joke he meant was `How do you get an Oliphaunt in a cupboard?”

“You put it in?” Pippin replied.

Legolas shot a look at both of them, and laughed quietly, then louder in his clear elvish voice. Frolijah stopped his walking and glanced back in time to see Merry and Pippin’s ashen faces at this. They had made Legolas to laugh for him, and – hey, was that Gimli laughing also?

Oh, well. It seemed like they’d be trading pipeweed instead. Hmm. Frolijah wondered if any of them knew a game called poker.

Then he wondered if he could use the Ring to turn invisible and cheat. So shocked was he by this new thought – both of the Ring and cheating (which he never did) that Frolijah put both ideas far out of his mind. Better just keep walking.

Frolijah smiled, and sang softly,

“Keep walking . . . all the way to Mordor
Keep walking . . . it’s only very far!
It’s plain to see, this isn’t very fun
So keep walking . . . so you can get it done.”


“So, want your script?”


“I said, do you want your script?”

“Ah . . .”

“I know you’re used to having it a bit earlier, but there has been a total re-write.”


“We’re doing the movie in Russian.”


“Yeah, you know, l8;m1;l9;l9;l2;l0;l1;(1)”

“But I don’t know Russian.”

“That’s okay. Here’s the script.”

Elijodo looked down at it. Not only was he completely unable to read it, but he didn’t even know how to pronounce the, ah, letters. Which was funny, because for all he knew it could have read “Who is this idiot who thinks this is Russian?” It looked like this: l8;k2;l9;l7;l0;l9;l2;k2;.(2)

And then, below: l9;l3;k2;k3;l6;m1;l4;l5;m9;l1;.(3)

Elijodo skimmed through it, but, aside from the repeated word k5;l3;m1;l7;m9;l1;(4), there was no clue to what the script was about, or how in the world he was supposed to read it. It was like a bad dream, only more real. And never had he dreamed anything like this; usually the worse his nightmares got were about little things like Evil Rings and Mordor. Nothing of importance, really.

Elijodo groaned and put his hands to his head, then groaned again at the feel of the strange hair there. Nothing was right. It was all going to end soon; very soon. For one thing, he couldn’t act – barely knew what it was.

He pulled out the strange poem once again to look at it. And, to his surprise, more was there, just at the bottom – but not a rhyme, just simple words that somehow blurred before his eyes so he could not read them.

How shall it end?
In misery or happiness?
Endings for choice there are four.
1. It was all a dream (ha, that’s likely)
2. Trade all but the girls
3. Sweet romance (between the two slugs, while everyone else goes home normally)
4. They all stay, all is ruined, people are miserable, including me.
Which ending is right?
Rate them one through four.
Can I be more obvious?
Your vote counts.
Even if its not followed.

Interrupted in his contemplation at what this new writing could possibly mean, Elijodo looked up to see the boy he had been speaking to earlier, re-enter the room. “Yes?” Elijodo asked, keeping to the simplest language he could, and making the readers yawn at the brilliant dialogue.

“The director wants to see you. He says there’s been some kind of mistake. Another one. Worse than making this part short.”

“What part?”

“Exactly. He wants to see you right away. He told me, `Nero, you go get that actor now. The one with the eyes, the blue ones.’ And I asked if it was you, and he said `Yes, yes, that’s the one, bring him here.’ So I came, and can you come? Because I don’t want to get in trouble . . .”

“Yes,” Elijodo answered wearily, thinking that this boy spoke almost as much as his (shudder) fan. “Lead the way.”

“Great, wonderful. You know, I’m one of your biggest fans.”


“I know you probably hear that a lot . . .”

(1) Russian
(2) Script
(3) Idiot
(4) Fool
[Note: The site might change the Russian letters, but they were right originally, I promise. Probably. But Tolkienonline does weird things to things. Ah.]

It was short. So sue me. Next’ll be longer.

Listen to the new writing. I’m serious. This is going to end SOON – next part or one after, so please, please, please tell me. Or not. I don’t care.

Part 1:
Part 2:
Part 3:
Part 4:
Part 5:
Part 6:
Part 7:
Part 8:
Part 9:
Part 10:
Part 11:
Part 12:
Part 13:
Part 14:
Part 15:
Part 16:
Part 17:
Part 18:
Part 19:
Part 20:
Part 21:

Thank you to Jeanlily for editing.


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