So Speranza finally gives in and gets a livejournal, and the next thing you know there's this crazed Elf Challenge. Drabbles and snippets with inappropriate elf 'outings' as far as the eye can see.|
Of course I had to participate.
Elf Snippet #1 (dueSouth)
by Beth H
(c) January 2003
(With apologies to anyone involved in the making of "Burning Down the House")
"...The shoe size is also inconsistent, in addition to which the shoes are curled - and finally, as you can see, the suspect's pointy ears are fully 7 millimeters longer than Ray Vecchio's. In conclusion, this man is not Raymond Vecchio."
"Constable, you have an uncanny power of observation."
"Of course he's not Ray Vecchio. He's an elf. But Ray's gone deep undercover - something to do with a stolen ring - and to protect his identity, we have to make believe that this elf is Ray Vecchio. "
"Really? Then would you mind explaining it to me, Constable?"
Then there was this...
Gimli squinted through the bright Las Vegas sunshine reflecting off the sign that rose high above them. "Graceland Wedding Chapel, it says. Are you certain this is what the lady Arwen wished for . . . Your Majesty?"
"Yes, I'm quite certain," Aragorn said, glaring at his companion. "And don't think I'm unaware of the complete and utter mockery in your voice every time you say 'your majesty.'"
The dwarf chuckled. "My apologies, Strider. Come, let's go inside and join your lady."
As they neared the open door to the chapel, angry words from Aragorn's bride-to-be could be heard from within.
"...telling you that we have a signed contract! I don't care how far you had to fly on your broomsticks this morning; you're just going to have to wait your turn!"
Aragorn and Gimli entered the chapel to see a pale young woman dressed in a long robe, standing toe to toe with Arwen. To the young woman's left and right were two men, similarly robed: a glowering older man and a bespectacled youth, both holding what appeared to be wands in their hands.
"And I'm telling you that we also have a signed contract which specifies this exact time. Do you have any idea what it took to get him," - and here the chestnut haired woman indicated not the younger man, as Aragorn had expected, but the one with the hawkish visage, "out of his bloody dungeon? I am not going back until this blasted ceremony has taken place!"
"Perhaps this may persuade you where words have not," Arwen said frostily, drawing a bow and arrow from beneath her cloak.
Both of the men flanking the young woman drew closer, and all three now held wands pointed dangerously at his betrothed. This was getting out of hand. Before Aragorn could step into the fray, however, a stranger in white patent leather shoes, who looked strangely like a cross between Ian McKellen and the late Richard Harris, came bustling out of the back room, his hands thrown up in a manner of supplication.
"Ladies! Gentlemen! Do you really think that this is what the King would have liked to see?"
Gimli frowned and nudged Aragorn. "You're right here. Why doesn't he just ask you?"
"Different king, I think," whispered Aragorn.
The old man beamed. "I have a wonderful solution to this unfortunate scheduling error that I think will please everyone. What would you say to a double ceremony?"
The strangers exchanged looks. The scowling black-haired man stepped forward. "And would this oh-so-wonderful solution include a refund of some of your ridiculous Muggle money?"
"Of course, sir! And to make your special day even more joyous, I've arranged for two very special friends of yours to preside over today's ceremony!" With this, he turned toward the front of the chapel and waved to two shadowy figures who were peeking out from behind the curtains. "Come, my dears!"
Out they walked - one tall with long blond hair and one only half of Gimli's height - both wearing sunglasses and sequined white jumpsuits.
"Dobby?" the young woman gasped.
"Legolas!" Arwen moaned.
"Greetings, my friends," Legolas said. "Dobby and I felt it was fitting on this auspicious occasion to share a secret known only to . . . "
"Dobby wants to help friends Miss Hermione and Professor Snape marry, Harry Potter!"
"Yes, yes, I was getting to that, Dobby. I, too, wanted to be a part of the nuptials of my own dear friends... and to share a secret kept hidden lo these many years." He smiled as his small companion bounced up and down on the makeshift stage in glee. "Would you like to tell them?"
"Oh, yes please! Master Legolas and Dobby is . . . " he paused for effect, "We is not Elves!"
"No," Legolas said. "We're . . . Elvis."
The old man smiled. "Isn't this nice? Now, where's that adorable little
hobbit who said he was going to carry the rings? I could have sworn he
was here a second ago."