Disclaimer: I neither own anything from Lord of the Rings nor any concepts
or shows from MTV. So that also includes MTV Cribs. Not mine, never was and
never will be. Please, don't sue! I'm a relatively good girl *grins
In the past months we have come across several chases of supernatural
activity. Our journalists have received many letters that report the
sighting of inexplicable phenomena all over the globe. Our faithful readers
while be familiar with most common manifestations of the supernatural,
telekinesis, haunted houses and contact with extraterrestrial life forms,
to name only a few. But the incidents described in those letters are
incomparable to anything we have come across in the entire existence of our
magazine. We have decided to publish a few chases, of course without
revealing the identity of the people who were involved in the happenings,
but we can assure you that we didn't alter any of the facts beforehand.
What you are about to read is the absolute truth, as incredible as it might
1. The living floor cloth or at Saruman's crib
It's a rainy Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting inside my room, watching as the
rain drops run down my window, leaving tiny little watery trails on the
glass that are coming and going in the blink of an eye. After a few minutes
I get bored, turn around and look at my room.
Open books lie scattered on my desktop, a mug of steaming hot tea stands
beside it. I sigh and cringe my nose in disgust at the amount of work that
is still lying ahead of me. I have already been reading for hours,
researching for my paper and now I feel that if I just read as much as one
more paragraph, I might go insane.
So I grab the hot beverage and sprawl in one of my comfortable armchair in
front of the TV. It is high time for some quality entertainment, I decide
and start surfing from channel to channel. Suddenly my attention is
captured by a certain programme. It is MTV's Cribs. I snuggle deeper into
the armchair and slowly take a sip of tea.
Suddenly the screen in front of me begins to flicker. I squint my eyes
together and give the TV a disapproving look, but for some reason I'm not
reaching for the remote control to change channels. Suddenly the reception
gets better, though the pictures shown look like they were made by an
amateur or probably by a very drunk cameraman. They are shaky and
unfocused. I'm curious, so I unconsciously move closer to the screen. You
can hear incessant cursing and see some sort of white silky fabric hovering
in front of the lens, effectively blocking the view of the camera.
"Does the device work?" says an impatient voice. It is dark and highly
melodic and immediately captures my attention
"Yes, master," comes the response. It is more a grunt than a proper answer.
The camera suddenly makes a sway to the left, which must have been
absolutely unintentional, because you can see a man in his twenties,
wearing a black T-shirt with the MTV logo on it, lying unconsciously on the
floor. I suppress a surprised gasp, sitting on the edge of my seat in
anticipation of what is next to come. I take a brief sip of tea.
A man clothed in white robes steps in front of the camera. He has long
white hair and a beard. His nose is long and pointed. It almost looks like
the beak of a bird. A content smile is playing around his thin lips. He has
an air of haughtiness around him, but also of the right amount of power and
influence, as is evident from his baring, that justifies his attitude.
"Greetings, gentle viewers! My name is Saruman the White and welcome to
my....", he stumbles over the next word and its pronunciation is slightly
I cough and a spray of tea comes from my mouth and nose. I'm rubbing my
eyes incredulously and wonder if someone spiked my tea. I know this man
from the Lord of the Rings movies! The only comment I can come up with is a
weak "holy crap", while I continue staring at the screen in fascination.
"This is Isengard," his hand makes a gesture indicating his surroundings
and the camera follows his every move. We see high walls, that are slightly
spiky and of a white-greyish colour, going on endlessly, so that you
cannot see the roof of the building. The floor is shimmering and made of a
polished black stone.
The picture focuses again on Saruman who is greeting the viewers with a
devilish grin. "See, when you are wearing a lot of bright colours as I do,"
he indicates his white robes, "a orderly and clean household is absolutely
imperative. You might have noticed the shiny stone floor...Well, I take
pride in keeping it clean and spotless myself without even having to get my
I cock my head and look at the screen with raised eyebrows. I briefly
wonder whether I accidentally switched to the home shopping channel.
"See...", the old man pauses and with a slight movement of his white long
staff a ugly little creature literally flies into the picture and lands on
the floor with a surprised scream. I shake my head incredulously and
identify the creature as an Orc.
Saruman makes a circular motion with his staff and the Orc whirls around on
the floor like a gigantic floor cloth. I watch with my mouth wide open and
cannot help but remember the scene in the movie where Saruman and Gandalf
fight, where the evil wizard literally kicks the other Istari's ass all
over Isengard. And as if he had read my thoughts he comments on that only
the seconds later.
The helpless Orc is still dragged over the floor by an invisible power and
his clothes make an obnoxious squeaking noises while they rub over the
spotless surface. "See I was lucky. A wizard from my order came to visit
this week, just in time for the spring-cleaning. Now let me tell you why he
is called Gandalf the Grey...," he gloats and his dark eyebrows shoot up in
a comical expression.
He suddenly remembers the living floor cloth and a cruel smile tugs at the
corner of his mouth. Saruman holds his white long staff like a hockey
stick, takes a big swing and sends the Orc flying out of the wide open
balcony door. The poor creature emits a pitiful screech and is gone in the
blink of an eye.
"Excuse me, I was distracted", Saruman looks into the camera with a serious
expression on his face, the perfect picture of a trust-worthy and wise
wizard. "Let me now show you the most precious object my crib holds!" He
saunters up to an iron gate with the symbol of the white hand on it while
the ever present camera follows him obediently. We briefly see an example
of the cameraman's incompetence as he films the floor and his own ugly
clawed feet that slither slightly over the perfectly clean stone tiles.
We enter another circular room, with Spartan interior. Everything is
completely empty except for the little pedestal in the middle of the room
that is covered with a black piece of cloth. Saruman is stepping up to it
and quickly sweeps the cover away with a dramatic gesture of his hand. He
is grinning like a gigantic white Cheshire Cat.
"This, gentle viewers, is a Palantir. It serves me....", he is interrupted
as the black ball he is indicating begins to glow and vibrate, very much
like a cellular phone. He throws an apologetic gaze at the camera, "Beg you
pardon, important call," he informs the viewers briefly and holds his hand
long-fingered and perfectly manicured hand over the Palantir.
I look guilty at my own hands and wonder were this old neat freak has his
nails done. Must be hellishly hard to find a competent person for this task
in Middle-Earth! My eyes are glued to the TV screen and I continue watching
as if I was standing under some sort of spell and God knows it might very
"Yes, master, I await your orders," Saruman says and his eyes are closed in
concentration. An expression of disappointment flits over his wrinkly face.
"Oh, it is just you, Denthor. What a pity! I was expecting someone else."
"Yes, I think also think this time a year is particularly nice for a family
barbecue," he answers the caller in an exasperate tone.
"No, when I say barbecue I am talking about meat as in pork or beef, not as
in son or other close relatives. Is that understood?"
A monotonous and rather annoyed sequence of "yes" and "noes" can be heard
that is ended with the sentenced, "Listen, Denthor, I'm waiting for an
important call so please stop blocking the line. Okay?"
Suddenly we hear the loud and very obnoxious sound of approaching flip flop
clad feet resound in the halls of Isengard.
I rub my hands in gleeful anticipation and a wicked grin spreads over my
face as I watch the happenings unfold before my eyes on the TV screen.
The camera whips around and we see a very angry young employee of MTV storm
at the Saruman. He looks like some Californian surfer kid with his bronzed
skin and his blond hair. He marches up to the wizard and positions himself
threateningly in front of the old man.
"Dude, what is that all about? Are you nuts? You can't have your ugly
apes," he points at the camera, obviously meaning the Orc that's holding
it, "attack unsuspecting camera teams. That was so uncalled for, man!"
"Now. give. me. back. my. stuff, dude," he stresses every word with an
angry poke at Saruman's chest. The old man is clearly baffled by the odd
behaviour of the young man and just stands there without doing anything.
Surfer-boy storms at the camera and a few shaky pictures later he holds it
in his apt hands again.
"I'm going back home, you old nutcase!" he screams and storms at a
shimmering opening that looks very much like a dimensional portal. Well, at
least to someone like me who has seen countless fantasy and science fiction
movies. Here the transmission ends and the broadcasting station wisely
decides to show us the TV test pattern.
I just sit there and stare at the TV screen for several minutes. This was
certainly the most bizarre thing I have ever experienced in my entire life.
You likey? Let me know - R&R