The Sillymarillion - An Unauthorized Parody of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion
By D.R. Lloyd
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Blasphemy! Heresy! Not since Bored of the Rings has there been such a blatant desecration of the sacred works of J.R.R. Tolkien! True fans of Middle-earth, rise up against this upstart and his distorted retelling of The Silmarillion, Tolkien's history of the world before The Lord of the Rings. No self-respecting Dark Lord would ever enter a rapping competition, nor would beautiful elf-maidens ever behave like this! The greatest tragic love story in fantasy history was not made possible through the efforts of a ferret, nor were the great battles of Beleriand covered by TV news crews! Don Lloyd's The Sillymarillion dares to be the first and only, and therefore we can claim without contradiction, the funniest, the most outrageous, parody of the wildly famous old professor's fiction in the last generation. The action begins in the land of Valium, an idyllic paradise, but now the tranquility has been shattered by the theft of the magical Siliputi by the Dark Lord Mostgoth. The King of the Neuter has vowed revenge and his people have rebelled against the gods themselves. Fleeing to the continent of Myrtle-earth in pursuit of their enemy, the Neuter become embroiled in a war that will last for hundreds of years, bringing great triumphs and tragedies as the free peoples of the world flight for their very existence. The reader will encounter polka-dotted elves, cross-dressing gods, and rodents possessed by malevolent spirits, but these will all somehow seem strangely familiar...
D.R. Lloyd
I'm a software developer in Delaware who reads and writes fantasy to help me escape from the fact that I'm a software developer in Delaware. My hobbies include trying to keep my wife happy, trying to keep my kids out of trouble, spending far too much time online, and looking at pictures of expensive sportscars I probably wouldn't buy even if I could afford them. I'm a geek, a skeptic, and an optimistic cynic. If don't get to swim in the ocean at least once a summer, I will explode by late November, leaving behind a smoking, vaguely coffee-scented crater. I try to laugh as loudly and as often as possible.
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The Sillymarillion - An Unauthorized Parody of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion - D.R. Lloyd
GONAQUILLYA - ACCOUNT OF THE VULGAR AND MAYO ACCORDING TO THE DOCUMENTARIES OF THE HISTORY CHANNEL OF THE ELDAR
In the beginning, in a bizarre turn of events which bore absolutely no relation to any part of the Aididnotinhâle, Yahoo and the Aidunno ended up on a world called Eieio, later named Argyle by the Elves. While not normally an industrious bunch, they figured that while they were stuck there anyway, they might as well clean the place up a little, maybe install some new bathroom cabinets to up the resale value. For it was foretold that in time other beings would appear in the world, the two races of the Bastard Stepchildren of Elevátor; and the Aidunno would be their court-appointed legal guardians, and the Board of Health insisted the place meet some fairly strict health and safety guidelines before this could happen.
Of the Vulgar
The Great among the Aidunno the Elves name the Vulgar, the Powers of Argyle, and Men have often called them words that would keep an otherwise wholesome film from earning a PG rating. The Lords of the Vulgar are seven, and the Vulgarer, the Queens of the Vulgar, are seven also. These were their names in the Elvish tongue as it was spoken in Valium: Manwïch, Elmo, Ole! (who insisted his name be pronounced with the exclamation point), Manuél, Locarb, and Dumåss; and the names of the Queens are: Varnish, Bananna, Ëstĕêlæǚder (Goddess of Too Many Strange Symbols In Her Name), Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria. Oromeo is counted part of both groups due to his cross-dressing tendencies. Milker is no longer numbered among the Vulgar because he ran off without first learning the secret handshake.
Manwïch and Milker are brothers, though Manwïch often wonders if Mom maybe had a little fling with that hairy ex-boyfriend a few months before Milker came along. Milker can out-armwrestle and out-spit Manwïch, but Elevátor generally thinks Milker is kind of a drag to hang out with
. Elevátor, in those days wanting nothing more than to be left alone to catch some rays out on the beach while watching for that perfect wave, appointed Manwïch to be the Ruler of All Argyle and Master of Processed Meat Products; Slo-mo he is surnamed by the Elves, for he is lazy and sluggish and takes a while to form complete sentences when speaking.
Manwïch hooked up with Varnish, Lady of the Skimpy Thong. Of all the Great Ones who dwell in Argyle, the Elves hold Varnish most in lust and fantasy, and her autographed posters fetch great prices on elfBay. Outabreth they name her, which, translated from Elvish, means check out the hooters on that one
.
Elmo is Lord of Toddlers. He mostly keeps to himself; none of the other Vulgar are comfortable around him since those unproven allegations came up a few years back. Elmo often goes slumming, spending time hanging around with Elves and Men in hopes of finding someone willing to listen to his vast repertoire of dirty jokes.
Ole! considers himself to be a master of all crafts, and in fact he really is a decent carpenter and handy to have around for basic electrical work as well; however, he spends much of his time creating abstract paintings and sculptures. When the other Vulgar view his creations with puzzled looks, he accuses them of not understanding art
.
Ole!'s common law wife is Bananna, who collects painted flower pots and is rumored to have an odd affinity for any fruit or vegetable that is vaguely tubular in shape. The Elves surname her Elementári, literally She who never made it past the second grade
.
Manuél is the Keeper of the Houses of the Dead and the Too Stupid To Live. He’s actually a rather intelligent guy with a lot of knowledge to share, but his English isn't very good and the other Aidunno are in general too lazy to bother learning a foreign language, so nobody understands him most of the time.
Dumåss is Master of Rednecks. He passes the eons watching troll wrestling and MESCAR races on the Elvish Sports Programming Network. He is credited with starting Locarb out on a lifelong obsession with barbecue flavor pork rinds.
The other Vulgar probably think of themselves as interesting and important.
They're wrong.
The price of paper has gone up so there's no point wasting any more valuable space talking about them.
Of the Mayo
Of lesser power and stature than the Vulgar are the Mayo, who live in trailer parks and government-subsidized housing projects in run-down parts of Valium.
Best known among them are Osècanyusee and Onion. Osècanyusee does odd jobs and runs errands for Elmo. His wife is Onion, who is said to be the giver of protection (through the installation of special coin-operated vending machines in the men’s restrooms) to mariners at sea.
Median is another Mayo who works as a gardener for the Vulgar but dreams of a career in exotic dancing. Wisest of the Mayo is Oldborin, but that's less of a compliment to him than it is an insult to the rest; after all, he was dumb enough to let himself get talked into dressing up in an old wizard costume and being sent to help out a bunch of whiny, ungrateful humans as a plot device in an obscure story about some short people and a piece of jewelry. (In his defense, though, that story did eventually get turned into a series of movies that met with moderate box office success and garnered a couple of decent reviews.)
Of the Enemies
Last of all is set the name Milker, He Who Spends Too Much Time On the Internet. Once the greatest of the Aidunno, he squandered his money on some Nigerian investment scam he'd read about online and began to resort to shoplifting, burglary, and car theft to make a living. The Neuter named him Mostgoth, The Guy With His Hair and Clothes All Dyed Really Dark
.
His hatred of the Vulgar and their works drove him into darkness and contempt for all but himself. Capitalizing on these qualities, he studied law and ran for office and used his powers to turn others to his evil purposes. Of the Mayo many were drawn to him through lies, bribery, and political appointments. These dreadful beings became the Vibarataur, the demons of fire that were after known as the Sweathogs. Greatest among these servants was Saurry, also called Golfcaurt the Effeminate, famous for his suspicious and altogether unmanly fascination with jewels and rings that just make me feel so pretty!
HERE ENDS THE GONAQUILLYA
WATDAHELSA SILLYMARILLION - THE HISTORY OF THE SILIPUTI
CHAPTER ONE - WHY DID TIME HAVE TO BEGIN ON A MONDAY?
The old stories tell us that the First War began before the Vulgar had even had the chance to spruce up Argyle with a fresh coat of paint and a good steam cleaning of the carpets.
When the Aidunno first came to Eieio, there was no sun and no moon, only a perpetual starless night. The Vulgar had foreseen the coming of Elves and Men, the Bastard Stepchildren of Elevátor; for Manwïch owned a copy of the real Silmarillion and figured this parody had to at least vaguely follow that storyline. So to light the way for those who would come, they built two great lamps that towered high into the heavens, casting light upon all the world. Milduin and Hormel were their names. They were crafted of fine porcelain, save for the giant bulbs of purest glass. Among the Elves, scholars and philosophers debate endlessly the question of exactly how many Vulgar it took to screw in these bulbs. (Of course, these debates usually lead to a predictable series of lewd jokes, resulting in everyone laughing hysterically and deciding to take a break from all the scholaring and philosophizing and go out for a drink). The original design specs called for them to be solar powered, but after much review and discussion it was decided that in the absence of an actual sun, this concept faced some technical hurdles that a different design might avoid. Ole! was commissioned to run long extension cords into the core of Eieio to power the lamps; and thus were the skies of Argyle lit for a time by eternal daylight.
Milker was not idle while the lamps were being constructed. He was busy delving the great underground fortress of Ewgumbo, hidden in the shadows of the great mountains of the north. From thence flowed the blight of Milker's hatred and the smell of cooking okra, and the lands around it became corrupt. Where once were lakes and rivers were now swamps and bogs; forests grew dark and foreboding; and the value of real estate took a nose dive.
When at last the lamps were complete, the Vulgar and Mayo gathered in Valium for a grand picnic and barbecue in celebration. Milker, of course, grew wrathful at not having been invited, and resolved to commit the ultimate act of vandalism. While the Vulgar were distracted by food and drink and the loaner karaoke machine they’d gotten from Elevátor, he craftily organized simultaneous children’s birthday parties, a dozen rambunctious four-year-olds in attendance, at the site of each lamp. Each child was fed copious amounts of sugar-laden cake, ice cream, and candy, and then each group was told that there were more goodies hidden inside the shiny piñata
hanging above them.
Against such a terrible force for destruction no power of nature or the Vulgar could stand; Milduin and Hormel were cast down and broken, their light gone from the world forever; and the children were sent home without any party favors. Then Milker fled into the depths of Ewgumbo, and as yet the Vulgar knew not where he had gone.
Seeing the destruction of the lamps, the Vulgar set about the building of a great fortress and city in Valium as a stronghold against the threat of Milker and his allies. Near its western gate was a grassy knoll called Escalatar; and Bananna hallowed it, and she sat there long upon the carrots and zucchini and sang a song of magic, calling upon the power of all the growing things upon the earth, while the other Vulgar spread fertilizer.
And lo, as they watched, upon Escalatar there sprouted three slender saplings. They grew and came to flower while Bananna's song rang out, and they became the renowned Three Shrubs of Valium.
The first, called Telemarketen, grew dark leaves and fruits that cast a cool silvery glow. Lanolin, the second, had lighter green leaves and its fruit cast a bright, fiery golden light. The third, named Extrenius, was an ugly brownish thing whose only claim to fame was that its tiny berries had strong hallucinogenic properties that some of the inhabitants of Valium took a liking to.
Lanolin and Telemarketen alternated lighting and darkening; so that as the light of one faded, the other grew bright. This initially created a disconcerting strobe-light effect, but Bananna twiddled some hidden control knobs to adjust them so that they cycled every few hours. Thus began the keeping of time; for each full cycle of the Shrubs was counted a day. A month was the time a new bloomed fruit of the Shrubs took to fully ripen, and a year was how long it took the other Vulgar to finally tell Bananna to shut up, that they were sick of hearing her brag about those damned plants.
CHAPTER TWO - OF OLE! AND BANANNA
For long ages there was peace in the realm. The Vulgar were content to stay in Valium, basking in the light of the Shrubs, and Milker took to quietly skulking about in the dark places of the world.
It was during this lull between interesting stuff that Ole! got really bored and carved himself some friends to play with. Tired of waiting for the arrival of the Bastard Stepchildren of Elevátor, he'd decided to go ahead and make some of his own. They were modeled after Ole!'s own hairy, bearded image, but unfortunately the mirror he'd been looking in was warped, so his people ended up with kind of a squished and distorted appearance.
Elevátor heard a commotion over at Ole!'s place one morning and wandered by to see what was happening. Ole! sat at his workbench chiseling away at something. On a small notepad resting on a nearby table was scrawled:
As he drew nearer, Elevátor saw that Ole! was putting the final touches on the eighth of eight little bearded men, all carved from stone and ready to be given life.
Duuuude... like, what has thou wrought here?
Ole!, always proud and defiant, replied fiercely, Please don't hurt me!
Now that I look at 'em, they are kind of cute little buggers,
spake Elevátor. Okay, I guess I'll let ya keep 'em dude, but under two conditions. First, hideth 'em until my kids get here – can't have thee showin' me up by beatin' me to the parenthood gig. Second – I get to keep one for my lawn. Might help scare the damn cats away an’ keep ‘em from diggin' up my flowers.
This was an agreeable solution for Ole!, and he said as much.
Oh, and uh, by the way, thou dost knoweth you made all dudes and no babes, right?
Huh... good point. I guess they'll need at least one female.
Ole! lifted the woven loincloth he'd fitted to his latest, not-yet-made-flesh dwarf sculpture. He positioned his chisel and struck it once; a small piece of rock chipped off and skittered across the ground.
Problem solved!
Not long after, Elevátor's afternoon tanning session was interrupted by Bananna, who burst uninvited into his home with Ole! following closely behind.
Please, dear, let's just forget about it
said Ole!, a worried look on his face.
No! If you get to make your own race of beings then I get to make my own too!
Dude, you were supposed to keep thy runts a secret! Now all the other Vulgar are gonna want their own little people too!
I tried, but do you have any idea how hard it is to hide a bunch of little hairy men in a house with limited closet space? Besides, she hasn't told anyone else.
"Excuse me, but I'm the one who stormed in here, so I get to do the talking! complained Bananna;
Now, do I get my own race or do I have to go tell everybody about those disgusting little fuzzballs I found peeking out from under my kitchen cabinets?"
Alright, alright, you can haveth thine own race too,
said Elevátor. What d'ya wanteth 'em ta look like?
Hmm... I hadn't really thought that far ahead. They'd be plants, I guess; something tall,
she sighed wistfully, and firm, and strong, and rigid, and thro-
Okay! I get the idea. I'll get to work on 'em; you'll get your veggies, Ole! gets his little dudes.
Don't forget Eagles! I want Eagles!
called Manwïch, who'd been peeping through the window.
Elevátor sighed.
So it was that the Dents were created, giant walking cucumber guardians of trees. Created as well was the high-flying race of giant Eagles, about whom it is said that they were beautiful to gaze upon, but cleaning out their cages was a job nobody wanted. And Ole!, at Elevátor's suggestion, hid the six fathers and one mother of the Dwarves deep in the earth, to be awakened after the coming of the firstborn Elves. The eighth dwarf was given a bright red hat and a fake lantern and propped up on Elevátor's front