Manwë's Birthday Party by Dawn Felagund, Tarion Anarore, , Rhapsody, , oshun, , Isil Elensar, , pandemonium_213, , Beatrisu

Chapter 5: "Aman, Meet Lon Guyland" by pandemonium_213

Thanks to Celegorm’s ingenious destruction of the infernal doorbell, Manwë was no longer subjected to its cheesy tintinnabulum. Tinkle-chime indeed. Unfortunately, the guests now charged right past the threshold. He heard a commotion in the foyer. His curiosity piqued, he ambled to the entryway to see that those two glorious specimens of male Elfhood, Fingon and Maitimo, had arrived.

Excellent! They should liven things up,” thought Eru’s right hand man. Then they opened their mouths and spoke not with their accustomed mellifluous tones, but with a grating, nasal whine. These Quendi now nattered with the most bizarre accent that had ever hit his quasi-divine ears.

Varda suddenly made a grand appearance, inexplicably wearing a black blouse, black trousers, and a cheap patterned polyester jacket. Her silver hair was teased into a stiff coif as high as the peaks of Thangorodrim. She eyed the board game that Fingon, smiling radiantly, offered to her.

“What? Another sex game?” Varda kvetched (Wait a minute, Manwë thought. What’s kvetch?). “Didn't you have enough with that other sex game you and Maitimo used to play all the time when you were kids?”

“What?” Maitimo’s jaw dropped.

“You know, the one with all the colored dots... “ Varda said.

“TWISTER?” Fingon blurted.

Manwë was perplexed. Where was this weird accent coming from? The bad dialogue?

Olórin, who had slipped through the door while the rest were distracted by Fingon, Maitimo, and his wife’s shtick, sidled up to him and whispered.

“That’s what is called a Lon Guyland accent. Maitimo unfortunately invoked a long-running TV sitcom when he uttered that…that phrase.”

“A TV sitcom? What the…? “ Manwë eyed Olórin suspiciously. “You’ve volunteered as a guinea pig again for Aulë and Namo’s temporal experiments, haven’t you?”

“Errrr…say, did Legolas happen to bring that pale ale, umm, what’s it called… Sierra Nevada? Here, I’ll get you one!” Olórin was off in a flash – literally.

“Damn but that Maia can make a grand exit,” thought Manwë.

At that precise moment, the Elder King heard a riotous cacophony: the crash of shattering glass, the sound of sloshing fluid, the indignant yowling of felines, and a shriek of gleeful greeting that emanated from the wide-open door.

Chapter End Notes

With sincere apologies to the screenwriters of Everybody Loves Raymond.