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b2mem2012-03-07 07:27 am
grey-wonderer.livejournal.com) wrote in b2mem2012-03-07 07:27 am
O-67 Crack-Fic Bingo Card, Characters discover fan fiction
B2MeM Challenge: O67 Crack Fic Bingo Card, characters discover fan fiction
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Crack Fic
Rating: PG-13 slightly suggestive and a bit rude
Warnings: Rude and very crack-ish
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Bilbo, Legolas, Haldir
Pairings: none confirmed
Title: Encouraging Local Authors
Summary: Frodo discovers something upsetting in his morning paper.
“Sam, have you seen this?” Frodo asked looking rather embarrassed.
“Seen what, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked walking over to join Frodo at the kitchen table.
“I was enjoying my morning tea and toast, while waiting for second breakfast to begin and I decided to read our town’s weekly news paper,” Frodo said, handing it to Sam. “I was just browsing, when I came upon that.”
Sam was looking intently at the page and the more he read, the more startled he looked. “Oh, you’ve found the author page?’
“They have the nerve to call it, the local author’s page of fan fiction!” Frodo frowned. “Can you believe it? That poorly written piece of rubbish is on a page called, ‘Local Authors’?”
“But it doesn’t say who wrote it,” Sam said. “All it says is written by Market-Lass27.”
“Exactly! The author doesn’t have the nerve to list her real name after posting something like that. She’s using a pseudonym so she can’t be identified.”
“What’s a pseudonym?” Sam asked curiously. He was always eager to learn new words. It was remarkable how much his vocabulary had grown just from spending time with Mr. Frodo. He’d picked up so many good and useful words.
“It’s a pen name, a name an author uses to hide his or her identity,” Frodo said. “Normally, someone might use a pseudonym if they have written something political or rather unpopular or if they just want to remain anonymous for some other valid reason. Unfortunately, the writer of this dreadful story, is more likely ashamed to use their real name because what they are writing is slanderous and ill-thought-out.”
“According to the heading on this page, there’s more than one author writing for the ‘local author’s page of fan fiction,” Sam said. “There’s Market-Lass27, Hardbottle-Hero, Froggy-Morton, Biscuit33, and a whole lot more. The paper‘s got much larger in size and taken on a bigger readership since they started postin local work, or at least that’s what I hear from Marigold.”
“Let me see that,” Frodo said snatching the paper from Sam’s hands. He studied the page and then began to read aloud. “This portion of the Hobbiton Bulletin is dedicated to furthering the talents of local authors. The works on this page are all fiction and do not accurately portray any hobbits, elves, dwarves, or big folk living or dead. All works printed here are for entertainment only and are not to be taken as factual. This publication is not liable for anything contained within these stories and the views expressed here are not the opinions of the Hobbiton Bulletin.” Frodo scowled and shoved the paper back into Sam’s hands.
“That would seem to cover it,” Sam said. “If they print that sort of disclaimer, then I doubt there’s anything can be done about it.”
“That is exactly what they *hope* anyway,” Frodo said. “If anyone can prove that they’ve been slandered or misrepresented in these stories, then that will be a different kettle of fish altogether.”
“Says here that folks can send letters to the Bulletin and they will pass them on to the authors,” Sam said. “It says, ‘If you enjoy any or all of the stories contained in this publication, please send your words of encouragement to your favourite writers in care of the Hobbiton Bulletin and we will be happy to pass them along. Our local writers always enjoy hearing what you think of their stories as it is the only reward they get. These are unpaid works and so, your input helps to encourage them.” Sam smiled. “I suppose if there were one o’ these stories what you liked, you could send a note to the writer so that must mean that the folks at the bulletin know who Market-Lass27 and the rest of these folks are, Mr. Frodo.”
“Yes, and they want us to write encouraging letters! Well, I’ll write a letter and I *will be encouraging,” Frodo said darkly. “It will be encouraging Market-lass27 to stop writing!”
“I don’t think that’s what it means, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said.
“No, it isn’t what it means but it’s what I intend to do,” Frodo said. “And I plan to be just as anonymous as these so-called writers! If they don‘t have to put their real names on their stories, then I don‘t have to put my real name on my review.”
“Why are you so upset, it’s all just fiction,” Sam said.
“Did you look at it?” Frodo asked but he went on before giving Sam a chance to respond. “Market-Lass is writing about a Mr. Brodo Faggins who is boffing his gardener, Stan Grangey. If you ask me, that’s as close to slander as a person can come without actually crossing the line. Anyone reading this will think that you and I are, are, well, that I’m shagging you senseless!”
“And it also says that you’re havin your way with your cousin, Happy Randybuck,” Sam said looking slightly peeved. “Seems that you are carryin on two relationships at once and in this story here, poor, loyal, Stan don’t know a thing about this Randybuck business.”
“Sam, in the first place, this is a work of fiction, and in the second place, I am not Brodo Faggins! This Market-Lass27 wants people to believe this is me, but it’s not me. You should know that,” Frodo said. “Besides, her work is full of errors in spelling, double-negatives, and she is constantly beginning her sentences with the word ‘and’ which isn’t at all proper. She could benefit from a good proof-reader on top of everything else.”
Sam didn’t look too certain at the moment, but he said, “So you aren’t havin a wild affair with Mr. Merry?”
“Of course not,” Frodo sighed. “He’s my cousin, Sam!”
“Then what about the Ranger from the North that you meet with secretly once a month down by Waymeet or the Elf what sneaks into your room now and again?” Sam asked. “In that story that’s being written by Biscuit33, you and that Ranger fellow are all over each other every chance you get.”
“What Ranger?” Frodo looked stunned.
“There’s this story by Biscuit33 that’s in it’s forty-fifth chapter what tells of your deep love for a Ranger from the North named Saunter who helps guard our Shire when he isn’t keeping your bed warm,” Sam frowned.
“What kind of a name is Saunter?” Frodo objected.
“Biscuit33 says that folks call him Saunter on account of the fact that he walks like he’s in no hurry to get anywhere and because he has so many different complicated names that they needed something easy to call him,” Sam said.
“Someone in our Shire has wasted enough time to write forty-five chapters about a Ranger named Saunter?” Frodo looked amazed. “There’s a hobbit who has no life!”
“And Froggy -Morton is writin a story all about how you and her are lovers and how she helps you save folks in the Shire from danger,” Sam said. “In this one called “Frodo‘s True Love“, every time you get into a fix and have a problem you can’t solve, Froggy comes to your rescue and saves the day and then you’re so grateful that you have lots of sex with her.”
“I don’t know anyone named Froggy-Morton!” Frodo objected.
“Well, she uses your real name in a way. Her lead character is a blue-eyed hobbit called Frodo Bags,” Sam said.
“My name is Baggins, Sam, not Bags,” Frodo objected in exasperation.
“I know that but it’s awful close,” Sam frowned.
“Have you been injured lately?” Frodo asked Sam suddenly, focusing on the back page of the paper.
“No, Sir,” Sam said. “You know I’ve been here at Bag End doing the gardening all week long. I haven’t missed a single day in three years now.”
“Well, according to Ale-drinker5, you fell from a moving cart last week and nearly died of your injuries but I managed to tend to you and save your life,” Frodo smiled. “Ale-drinker5 says you were feverish for almost three nights and that if I hadn’t stayed by your side, you would have died.”
“That didn’t happen,” Sam objected.
“No?” Frodo looked surprised. “Then I suppose that you haven’t been teaching Rose Cotton how to kiss either or building your own still in the Gaffer’s tool shed, or learning Elvish from a human lass who was raised in Rivendell by Lord Elrond as a sister to his daughter?”
“I always wanted to see Elves but I never have and the only Elvish I know, Mr. Bilbo taught me,” Sam objected. “And more importantly, who knows about my still?”
“See my point, Sam?” Frodo sighed. “These are works of fiction but because the writers are making up stories about real folks here in the Shire, the stories are slanderous.”
“I suppose so,” Sam frowned. “Still, I do like this one where I have found a sack o gold in the garden and I am now the owner of Brandy Hall and am having sex with Mr. Merry’s mum. She’s a handsome lass even if she is a bit too old for me.”
Frodo sighed and walked out of the kitchen. “If you need me, I will be at my desk writing several strongly worded letters of complaint to some of these so-called authors!” He took the paper, folded it up and walked from the room. Sam was sorry to see him go because he really wanted to finish reading a story by Flowering Shrub that was all about a brave gardener named Sam, who saved all of Middle earth. Maybe later.”
******
Pippin chuckled. “Listen to this one, Merry,” he said and began to read. “Dear Biscuit33 or whoever you are, Your writing is dreadful and you should stop at once before you offend everyone within the borders of the Shire. I have never in all my life read such drivel. The so-called fiction with which you are attempting to infect our local population is merely thinly disguised slander and unless you wish to be prosecuted to the full extent of the laws of our land, you will cease at once.”
“Who in all the Shire wrote that?” Merry laughed.
“I suspect you know him, Cousin,” Pippin grinned. “He calls himself Elvin-Prince.”
“You think it’s Frodo, don’t you?” Merry said.
“Who else in all the Shire would dare to call themselves an Elvin Prince?” Pippin asked. “Half the folk I know think Elves don’t exist. It’s Frodo. I hope he keeps writing because I really like the flames more than the praise.”
“I thought this one was Frodo,” Merry said. He pulled out a letter from the pile and read, “Dear Randy-Brandybuck, You owe everyone in the Shire an apology for your uncommonly poor writing. Slander is not a form of entertainment. It is a crime and it is punishable under our laws by banishment.” Merry smiled. “It goes on like that for a while and then he or she signs it, Scholarly-Hobbit. To me, that sounds like Frodo. He thinks he’s the only one in the Shire with an education.”
“Then who is this Elvin Prince?” Pippin frowned.
******
“You really shouldn’t dignify this sort of thing with a letter,” Haldir objected.
“This Biscuit33 person wrote that the Prince of Mirkwood, that’s me, was having sex with dwarves in secret,” Legolas said angrily. “I cannot let that sort of thing go unanswered! I wrote to him or her because I cannot allow everyone in Mirkwood to think I‘m sleeping with dwarves, can I?”
“Are you?” Haldir asked after a brief pause.
“Of course not!” Legolas shouted. “And some of the other elves are whispering about me and laughing. It would seem that a great many folks here are reading this little Shire paper for amusement.”
“Well, then you probably should write a letter to King Under the Mountain too because he is writing a twenty-chapter story where you are the sex slave of some Dwarf named Otto,” Haldir smiled.
“I didn’t see that in the little Hobbit paper,” Legolas objected. “They don’t have a writer called King Under the Mountain.”
“No, that story is in the paper from Dale,” Haldir said. “I get it because they have this wonderful author in there who is writing a story about a character named Haldir who was injured in the battle of the five armies and is now a great leader of his people and loved by everyone. It’s true that it isn’t me, but still, sometimes the writer captures my character so well that it almost seems like it’s me. If you want to read it, I’ve saved all of the parts.”
GW
03-06-2012
Format: Ficlet
Genre: Crack Fic
Rating: PG-13 slightly suggestive and a bit rude
Warnings: Rude and very crack-ish
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Bilbo, Legolas, Haldir
Pairings: none confirmed
Title: Encouraging Local Authors
Summary: Frodo discovers something upsetting in his morning paper.
“Sam, have you seen this?” Frodo asked looking rather embarrassed.
“Seen what, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked walking over to join Frodo at the kitchen table.
“I was enjoying my morning tea and toast, while waiting for second breakfast to begin and I decided to read our town’s weekly news paper,” Frodo said, handing it to Sam. “I was just browsing, when I came upon that.”
Sam was looking intently at the page and the more he read, the more startled he looked. “Oh, you’ve found the author page?’
“They have the nerve to call it, the local author’s page of fan fiction!” Frodo frowned. “Can you believe it? That poorly written piece of rubbish is on a page called, ‘Local Authors’?”
“But it doesn’t say who wrote it,” Sam said. “All it says is written by Market-Lass27.”
“Exactly! The author doesn’t have the nerve to list her real name after posting something like that. She’s using a pseudonym so she can’t be identified.”
“What’s a pseudonym?” Sam asked curiously. He was always eager to learn new words. It was remarkable how much his vocabulary had grown just from spending time with Mr. Frodo. He’d picked up so many good and useful words.
“It’s a pen name, a name an author uses to hide his or her identity,” Frodo said. “Normally, someone might use a pseudonym if they have written something political or rather unpopular or if they just want to remain anonymous for some other valid reason. Unfortunately, the writer of this dreadful story, is more likely ashamed to use their real name because what they are writing is slanderous and ill-thought-out.”
“According to the heading on this page, there’s more than one author writing for the ‘local author’s page of fan fiction,” Sam said. “There’s Market-Lass27, Hardbottle-Hero, Froggy-Morton, Biscuit33, and a whole lot more. The paper‘s got much larger in size and taken on a bigger readership since they started postin local work, or at least that’s what I hear from Marigold.”
“Let me see that,” Frodo said snatching the paper from Sam’s hands. He studied the page and then began to read aloud. “This portion of the Hobbiton Bulletin is dedicated to furthering the talents of local authors. The works on this page are all fiction and do not accurately portray any hobbits, elves, dwarves, or big folk living or dead. All works printed here are for entertainment only and are not to be taken as factual. This publication is not liable for anything contained within these stories and the views expressed here are not the opinions of the Hobbiton Bulletin.” Frodo scowled and shoved the paper back into Sam’s hands.
“That would seem to cover it,” Sam said. “If they print that sort of disclaimer, then I doubt there’s anything can be done about it.”
“That is exactly what they *hope* anyway,” Frodo said. “If anyone can prove that they’ve been slandered or misrepresented in these stories, then that will be a different kettle of fish altogether.”
“Says here that folks can send letters to the Bulletin and they will pass them on to the authors,” Sam said. “It says, ‘If you enjoy any or all of the stories contained in this publication, please send your words of encouragement to your favourite writers in care of the Hobbiton Bulletin and we will be happy to pass them along. Our local writers always enjoy hearing what you think of their stories as it is the only reward they get. These are unpaid works and so, your input helps to encourage them.” Sam smiled. “I suppose if there were one o’ these stories what you liked, you could send a note to the writer so that must mean that the folks at the bulletin know who Market-Lass27 and the rest of these folks are, Mr. Frodo.”
“Yes, and they want us to write encouraging letters! Well, I’ll write a letter and I *will be encouraging,” Frodo said darkly. “It will be encouraging Market-lass27 to stop writing!”
“I don’t think that’s what it means, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said.
“No, it isn’t what it means but it’s what I intend to do,” Frodo said. “And I plan to be just as anonymous as these so-called writers! If they don‘t have to put their real names on their stories, then I don‘t have to put my real name on my review.”
“Why are you so upset, it’s all just fiction,” Sam said.
“Did you look at it?” Frodo asked but he went on before giving Sam a chance to respond. “Market-Lass is writing about a Mr. Brodo Faggins who is boffing his gardener, Stan Grangey. If you ask me, that’s as close to slander as a person can come without actually crossing the line. Anyone reading this will think that you and I are, are, well, that I’m shagging you senseless!”
“And it also says that you’re havin your way with your cousin, Happy Randybuck,” Sam said looking slightly peeved. “Seems that you are carryin on two relationships at once and in this story here, poor, loyal, Stan don’t know a thing about this Randybuck business.”
“Sam, in the first place, this is a work of fiction, and in the second place, I am not Brodo Faggins! This Market-Lass27 wants people to believe this is me, but it’s not me. You should know that,” Frodo said. “Besides, her work is full of errors in spelling, double-negatives, and she is constantly beginning her sentences with the word ‘and’ which isn’t at all proper. She could benefit from a good proof-reader on top of everything else.”
Sam didn’t look too certain at the moment, but he said, “So you aren’t havin a wild affair with Mr. Merry?”
“Of course not,” Frodo sighed. “He’s my cousin, Sam!”
“Then what about the Ranger from the North that you meet with secretly once a month down by Waymeet or the Elf what sneaks into your room now and again?” Sam asked. “In that story that’s being written by Biscuit33, you and that Ranger fellow are all over each other every chance you get.”
“What Ranger?” Frodo looked stunned.
“There’s this story by Biscuit33 that’s in it’s forty-fifth chapter what tells of your deep love for a Ranger from the North named Saunter who helps guard our Shire when he isn’t keeping your bed warm,” Sam frowned.
“What kind of a name is Saunter?” Frodo objected.
“Biscuit33 says that folks call him Saunter on account of the fact that he walks like he’s in no hurry to get anywhere and because he has so many different complicated names that they needed something easy to call him,” Sam said.
“Someone in our Shire has wasted enough time to write forty-five chapters about a Ranger named Saunter?” Frodo looked amazed. “There’s a hobbit who has no life!”
“And Froggy -Morton is writin a story all about how you and her are lovers and how she helps you save folks in the Shire from danger,” Sam said. “In this one called “Frodo‘s True Love“, every time you get into a fix and have a problem you can’t solve, Froggy comes to your rescue and saves the day and then you’re so grateful that you have lots of sex with her.”
“I don’t know anyone named Froggy-Morton!” Frodo objected.
“Well, she uses your real name in a way. Her lead character is a blue-eyed hobbit called Frodo Bags,” Sam said.
“My name is Baggins, Sam, not Bags,” Frodo objected in exasperation.
“I know that but it’s awful close,” Sam frowned.
“Have you been injured lately?” Frodo asked Sam suddenly, focusing on the back page of the paper.
“No, Sir,” Sam said. “You know I’ve been here at Bag End doing the gardening all week long. I haven’t missed a single day in three years now.”
“Well, according to Ale-drinker5, you fell from a moving cart last week and nearly died of your injuries but I managed to tend to you and save your life,” Frodo smiled. “Ale-drinker5 says you were feverish for almost three nights and that if I hadn’t stayed by your side, you would have died.”
“That didn’t happen,” Sam objected.
“No?” Frodo looked surprised. “Then I suppose that you haven’t been teaching Rose Cotton how to kiss either or building your own still in the Gaffer’s tool shed, or learning Elvish from a human lass who was raised in Rivendell by Lord Elrond as a sister to his daughter?”
“I always wanted to see Elves but I never have and the only Elvish I know, Mr. Bilbo taught me,” Sam objected. “And more importantly, who knows about my still?”
“See my point, Sam?” Frodo sighed. “These are works of fiction but because the writers are making up stories about real folks here in the Shire, the stories are slanderous.”
“I suppose so,” Sam frowned. “Still, I do like this one where I have found a sack o gold in the garden and I am now the owner of Brandy Hall and am having sex with Mr. Merry’s mum. She’s a handsome lass even if she is a bit too old for me.”
Frodo sighed and walked out of the kitchen. “If you need me, I will be at my desk writing several strongly worded letters of complaint to some of these so-called authors!” He took the paper, folded it up and walked from the room. Sam was sorry to see him go because he really wanted to finish reading a story by Flowering Shrub that was all about a brave gardener named Sam, who saved all of Middle earth. Maybe later.”
******
Pippin chuckled. “Listen to this one, Merry,” he said and began to read. “Dear Biscuit33 or whoever you are, Your writing is dreadful and you should stop at once before you offend everyone within the borders of the Shire. I have never in all my life read such drivel. The so-called fiction with which you are attempting to infect our local population is merely thinly disguised slander and unless you wish to be prosecuted to the full extent of the laws of our land, you will cease at once.”
“Who in all the Shire wrote that?” Merry laughed.
“I suspect you know him, Cousin,” Pippin grinned. “He calls himself Elvin-Prince.”
“You think it’s Frodo, don’t you?” Merry said.
“Who else in all the Shire would dare to call themselves an Elvin Prince?” Pippin asked. “Half the folk I know think Elves don’t exist. It’s Frodo. I hope he keeps writing because I really like the flames more than the praise.”
“I thought this one was Frodo,” Merry said. He pulled out a letter from the pile and read, “Dear Randy-Brandybuck, You owe everyone in the Shire an apology for your uncommonly poor writing. Slander is not a form of entertainment. It is a crime and it is punishable under our laws by banishment.” Merry smiled. “It goes on like that for a while and then he or she signs it, Scholarly-Hobbit. To me, that sounds like Frodo. He thinks he’s the only one in the Shire with an education.”
“Then who is this Elvin Prince?” Pippin frowned.
******
“You really shouldn’t dignify this sort of thing with a letter,” Haldir objected.
“This Biscuit33 person wrote that the Prince of Mirkwood, that’s me, was having sex with dwarves in secret,” Legolas said angrily. “I cannot let that sort of thing go unanswered! I wrote to him or her because I cannot allow everyone in Mirkwood to think I‘m sleeping with dwarves, can I?”
“Are you?” Haldir asked after a brief pause.
“Of course not!” Legolas shouted. “And some of the other elves are whispering about me and laughing. It would seem that a great many folks here are reading this little Shire paper for amusement.”
“Well, then you probably should write a letter to King Under the Mountain too because he is writing a twenty-chapter story where you are the sex slave of some Dwarf named Otto,” Haldir smiled.
“I didn’t see that in the little Hobbit paper,” Legolas objected. “They don’t have a writer called King Under the Mountain.”
“No, that story is in the paper from Dale,” Haldir said. “I get it because they have this wonderful author in there who is writing a story about a character named Haldir who was injured in the battle of the five armies and is now a great leader of his people and loved by everyone. It’s true that it isn’t me, but still, sometimes the writer captures my character so well that it almost seems like it’s me. If you want to read it, I’ve saved all of the parts.”
GW
03-06-2012
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More? ^^;
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And I am very glad you enjoyed this little crackfic of mine. : )
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So far, I think I have written for maybe five squares on that card. Every time we get a new number, I hope it will be on this card. I don't really care if I Bingo. I just wanna write crack.
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- Erulisse (one L)
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I am not a morning person either which is why most of my stories are posted in the dead of the night.
I'm so glad you liked this and thank you for reviewing.
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And I wouldn't be surprised if Sam wrote some of those stories himself...
So, Pippin likes the flames better, huh? Perhaps he should start a column called "Hobbiton Wank".
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I am so glad you liked this one.
I could just imagine Pippin finding the flames entertaining because so few people do. : )
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