High School Faculty in Drag

What happens when you mix clichéd stories with random humour and twenty-three men named LaQuanda? The result is this weird fic. This is not the average story. Warning: extremely twisted.

(Update: 29 August 2004) I rewrote some chapters to make them more appropriate, fixed grammar mistakes, and all of that nice stuff. It's still the same story...only better.

-Cliche #1 – Eowyn writes a letter to the grimy idiot known to most as Aragorn-

Dear Aragorn,

Yo, what up, mah home slice? I'm writing to you because I'm quite bored. Ioreth won't let me play with her special greebles and I just want to tell you how I feel. Our past was rocky like a six-legged giraffe in a red convertible. I longed to love you, to stick Cheerios up your nose and rename you Alien Fetus, but you didn't return my love or the granny cakes I lent you. Give the cakes of all that may be granny back, you mediocre snarz with a head cold! I wanted to know everything about you, but now all I want to know is the density of a migrant worker holding a broken pencil sharpener from Staples and the eccentricity factor of Kansas. It's okay and perfectly acceptable that you didn't love me like that. Windfola was a better lover than you ever could be, but some scary man with a painted face and a red afro took him away and made him into a goopy substance called glue. Since then, I have found love in Faramir and the Mets mascot, so all is fine and dandy. Now that you're a chubby, blown-up king and I'm in love, I feel like a bar of soap in a Lamaze class for polar bears who are addicted to nicotine and the anime channel. You may think that I've lost my marbles. I lost them during the battle of Pelennor Fields, and I don't care. The only thing I care about is plotting to drown my brother in a pool of vinegar, or perhaps nail polish. Well, I have to stop writing this horrid letter now because Faramir is being attacked by numerous Sesame Street characters. Adios, Queen Elessar.

Peace out and save the trees,
Éowyn, your favourite igfrad