frivolous vitriol
Hot Sexellence and public displays of roller disco
kormantic
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First of all. I've been sick. Ill, baby. So perhaps that explains why I was awake last night hashing this all out at 4:30 A, in the midst of my fun with sweats and chills.

Or perhaps it's THIS!!!

You decide. )

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kormantic
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I wrote this for Hal's birthday, a few weeks back. What with one thing and another going on at [info]anorakbird and [info]almostnever, I thought I'd share it with the world at large...

All hatemail can go to McSwain! or Cesare!

***

"Whatcha got for me, Benny?"

He'd hoped it was lunch, but of course his luck wasn't that good.

Fraser looked a little out of whack, even for Fraser.

But he wasn't bleeding anywhere Ray could see, and for a pleasant change of pace there was no one holding a gun to his head.

"Well, Ray, I... That is to say, I've... Ah. How best to phrase this..."

Dief wandered into the room with two little kids. One of the kids was trying his damndest to climb onto Dief's back, while the other one tugged at his jacket. Or blanket. Or whatever the hell the first kid was wearing.

"Leave off, will you--"

"Pippin, you simpleton, the beast will have you for supper if you--"

The two of them tumbled together on the bullpen floor, with Dief looking on with detached interest.

"-- but I'd make a fine Warg rider, Merry, I have excellent balance, everyone says so--"

Ray sighed.

"Don't tell me. They followed Dief home?"

"Not as such. I found them this morning in the park. I approached them to remind them of the city ordinance against open fires, and Dief indicated that--"

"Hey, you two!" The kids continued to struggle; Dief was pawing lightly at whoever was on top. "Hey, Frick and Frack, I'm talkin' to you, here. This is a police station, not Wrestle Mania, you got it?"

They looked up at him, and the one on top dropped his head and whispered to his pal, "Who's Frickenfrack, Merry?"

Ray rubbed his eyes.

"So, are they runaways or what? Got a last name for me? If we're lucky maybe I can get their moms to come pick them up before Welsh gets back from Ed Burke's retirement lunch--"

"Oh, they're not children, Ray," Fraser explained.

"Oh my god, they're circus midgets aren't they? You went and busted a bunch of munchkins--"

"On the contrary, Ray, they're neither circus folk nor little people--"

"We're hobbits," The first one said helpfully. "Tell him, Merry."

He and his buddy (Merry) were finally standing up, and Ray could now tell that they weren't kids. Unless they were really freaky, mutant ones. They had big, creepy hairy feet and pointy ears. And bad perms, if listening to Frannie bitch during the 80s had taught him anything.

"You already have done. I don't think it needs repeating."

"Ray, this is Peregrin 'Pippin' Took and Meriadoc 'Merry' Brandybuck, lately of The Shire... somewhere in Middle Earth, I would imagine."

"Hobbits," Ray said dubiously, eyeing them like they were gonna spring at his throat any second. He tugged Fraser closer to hiss in his ear. "Where the hell did you get these two, Fraser? My nephew's got GI Joes taller than these guys--"

"Look, Merry! Pastries!"

"Just the thing. I've been a mite peckish since that brace of doves--"

"No, Diefenbaker." Pippin was playing keep away with the wolf, three squashed looking donuts in his hands. "You can have Merry's. He doesn't care for sweets."

"I would wish you to talk less, but you'd only eat more and then there'd be no pastries for me at all," sighed Merry.

"Oh, don't go on so. This one has a kind of custard in it. Here, now, it's grand--"

And Ray felt his eyebrows climb as Pippin popped a Bavarian-creamed finger into his friend's mouth, and Merry sucked on it with an appraising expression.

"And this one tastes a bit like biddenberry--" and Pippin replaced his first finger with his second, and Dief licked some excess jelly off the floor.

Dear sweet Christ, Fraser couldn't have just brought circus midgets?

"So if they're not kids," he said eventually, as he tried to tear his eyes away from the spectacle of two guys (or 'hobbits', whatever the hell they were) staring meaningfully into one another's eyes as the first one fed the second one a donut, "Why are they here? Did they actually break a law, or are you just messing with my head?"

"They need our help, Ray. We have to help them find the way back to their own country."

"I'll tell you what, I'll just look up the Hobbit Embassy and get them a cab, and you can buy Dief and me a slice of Delgado's for lunch. How's that?"

"Ray, this is a serious matter. Their peoples are at war, and these two young... fellows are part of a pivotal effort to avert total world domination by an unsavory dictatorship."

"Of course they are." He rubbed at his fading hairline and bit the bullet. "Whatta we gotta do?"

"Well, first--"

Pippin moved to wipe his sticky hands against Merry's shirt, but Merry laughed and caught his wrists, leaning in to peck his friend's mouth.

"First we'd better get those two a room." Fraser flushed a little, and Ray wondered just what kinda floorshow those little guys had already put on. "And then, I got this crazy feeling you're gonna ask me to go on a quest, am I right?"

Fraser looked relieved.

"Well, not a quest as such--"

And Ray closed his eyes, wondering if Fraser would bitch at him for carrying a firearm across interdimensional lines.

END

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kormantic
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And I'll tell you why. I've been reading up on her at almostnever and all the back-and-forth discussion of eros/platonism is exactly my own waffly position. Yes, Lord of the Rings is sweet and completely devoid of sex, and yet I can't help but see it as a romance in the trembling-craving-I-luff-heem sort of way as well. And while Hal does an excellent job of showcasing the hardy, solid love of friends in LOTR, she also gracefully alludes to the fact that they are indeed in love as well. And while I dig both the gen and the sash slant on Pippin/Merry, Legolas/Gimli, Frodo/Sam... I don't want any graphic depictions of their little hobbit sex lives, either. Because they're a tiny, hairy people, and I get edgy about the kiddie porn connotations.

That being said, here's a sugary little fragment I wrote last year (McSwain! is going to point and laugh, and so should you all...):

on the lonesome road to Mordor... )

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this is going out to all my ninjas
kormantic
User: [info]kormantic
Name: kormantic
Website: the skalab
somone once said
I leave and go stand in front of the vending machines. I have seventeen cents, and three of them are Canadian. I have eighteen cents. You can't buy anything with eighteen cents. Especially not delicious snack cakes.
sail the high seas
all my golden giddy days
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