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Today I was awoken by the voice of the Greater Northern Steel-Plated Ork telling me its plans for an invasion of London this weekend.

Of course I phoned the Steward of Gondor, but his PA gave me the old "can't speak to the Steward without an appointment, next available time 3 weeks from now." The warning that Europe would most likely be reduced to smoking rubble by then failed to have any effect, and must only have made me sound more like a crackpot.

So I tried the Riders of Rohan, but they're all in the pub-- it's karaoke night, apparently, and everyone wants to sing that "Where is the horse and the rider?" power ballad. I don't know that they'd stand much of a chance against an Ork in a tank, anyway.

And of course I've tried to get in touch with the Elves, but they are a merry folk, and slow to check their email. Also, I keep getting that "Out of office: West over Sea" auto-response. No, I'm afraid that by this time tomorrow, London will be just another chunk of Mordor. I'm posting this so that anyone with the means to evacuate can do so: everyone else should be prepared to welcome our new Sauronic overlords. Myself, I'm off to phone in a "Hordes of Mordorian Asylum-Seekers" story to the Daily Mail...

on 2007-07-12 03:37 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] laughingmagpie.livejournal.com
I *squee* because I think this means I'm an Elf, being West over the Sea and all :-)

on 2007-07-12 06:10 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] artnouveauho.livejournal.com
You are quite definitely an Elf (when you're not being an Orc, that is.)

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