Title: Monty Python and the Holy Jewel

Author: Ainu Laire

Rating: PG-13 for some adult content/just in case.

Genre: Humor/Parody

Summary: A well-written Monty Python and the Holy Grail crossover, taking place in a warped Fourth Age of Middle-earth… what has the world come to?

A/N: Background information on the Silmarillion will be good, though it is not necessary. Before you judge, actually read. I blame Monty Python and Tolkien for this fiction ;-)

Also, be warned: I have credits.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Monty Python nor J.R.R. Tolkien (unfortunately).

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Chapter One: The Parallelogram Table

The Third Age of Middle-earth has ended… and the Fourth Age has begun.

Mi preshe0us…

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Unfortunately, the Fourth Age is pretty boring…

i 1yk G0lum.

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So King Elessar, ten years after the War of the Ring was ended, and all of the Ring-bearers had passed from Middle-earth…

The jurks. Thay ki1ed G0lum.

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We apologize for the subtitles. Those responsible have been sacked.

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…He went into deep counsel and devised a brilliant plan…

i d0nt tink G0lum is ded.

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And decided to find the bravest of lords to create the Parallelogram Table!

in fac, G0lum 1s n0w mak1ng a pln 0f reveng…

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We apologize again for the subtitles. Those responsible for sacking the sacked have been sacked.

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Monty Python and the Holy Jewel

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Directed by: Ainu Laire

Produced by: Ainu Laire

Screenplay: Ainu Laire

Casting: Ainu Laire

Original Characters: Ainu Laire

Stolen Characters: J.R.R. Tolkien and Monty Python

Plot: Ainu Laire and Monty Python

Editor: Ainu Laire

Camera Crap: Ainu Laire

Art: Ainu Laire

Costumes/Make-up: Ainu Laire

All That Technical Crap: Ainu Laire

Everything Else: The Albert Chrishnagger Family

i lyk turtels…

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Special Thanks To:

ShakiraCrazy (The Obsessive One) and her sister.

HebeJebes (You rock!)

TheNoblePlatypus (because she writes great humor)

Feana Puddlefoot (because I said so)

Ode2Joy (she rocks!)

Molly, Sydney, Ling, Jessica, Caitlin, Gee, Rebecca, Sammy, and all my other friends!

Lindsey (Frodo Fan Girl)

My parents (The silly peoples)

My brothers (Even sillier)

Albert the First, Second, Third, and Fourth (because they are cool!)

My Sauron Plushie

turtels hav funy she11s.

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Absolutely NO thanks to my muses, who didn't encourage me at all. I think I will put them up for sale.

Mi sister ws bit bi a turtel. it ws g0rie… i lykd that turtel.

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We apologize again for the subtitles. Those responsible for sacking the ones that were sacked who sacked the first ones that were sacked have been permanently sacked.

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And now, we find ourselves in the Citadel, where King Elessar plans to find the bravest of lords to create the Parallelogram Table!

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"I plan on finding the bravest of lords to create the Parallelogram Table!" the King said with glee from his desk. His wife looked up at him from the book she was reading, Greatest Women of All Time. By her side she had How to Come to Power, The Top One Thousand Ways to Kill A King, The Top Million Ways to Kill Your Husband, and Males: Are They Really All That? She sighed in annoyance.

"Why not look for the bravest of ladies, dear?" she asked. "The lady Éowyn greatly surpasses her husband."

"Everyone knows that males are smarter and dominant," he countered, looking over some papers on his desk. "We live in a sexist society- get used to it."

She mumbled under her breath something about going to Valinor and talking with the Valar about women's rights. Brushing her long, dark hair aside, she gracefully stood up and walked over to her husband.

"Aragorn, dearest," she said. "Shouldn't you be out searching for the bravest lords for the Round-"

"Parallelogram."

"-Parallelogram Table?"

He paused for a minute, and looked over his documents. A treaty with Harad, trade accounts, bank accounts, taxes, debts… eh, nothing important. He threw it all into the fireplace, and the papers burned merrily. Standing up, he declared, "Yea, I shall find lords for my Parallelogram Table!" A trumpet was heard, and cheers from an unknown dimension echoed in the background.

"Yes, yes, that is all nice, dearest," said Arwen hurriedly, interrupting the cheers and trumpets. "Now, you best leave now and get a head start before the winter storms."

"Good idea!" he stated, and walked through the doorway. Before he left, he looked back at the Queen. "Eh, keep this place in tip-top shape, will you? And please stop those ridiculous women's rights acts. They really are pointless. I mean, Gondor is based on a society one may find from the Renaissance period, in Europe- we see no movement for women's rights until the 19th century, and that's in America."

"All right, Aragorn," she replied.

"Excellent. Fare ye well, my love!" He left the room.

"Sucker…" she muttered under her breath, picking up The Top Million Ways to Kill Your Husband.

-

"What do you mean that there are no horses?!" the King demanded.

The stable boy looked up at Aragorn, chewing on a piece of straw. "Yes, milord, a couple o' Rohirrim men came and gave the boss a scroll, something about Gondor not paying their debts for the horses, and just took all of them."

"But Roheryn was mine! I bought her!" the King shouted, his face going red.

"Sorry, but they took 'em all. The boss would know more."

"Where is he?"

"Sorry, can't see 'im."

"I demand to see him!"

"You can't."

"Why not?!"

"He died this morning."

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Oh," King Elessar muttered. He shuffled around. "Well, then… how am I to go riding from land to land finding the bravest of lords for my Parallelogram Table?"

"There's always Patsy," the stable boy said, grinning.

"Who in Morgoth's name is Patsy?!" he demanded.

"You'll see. Follow me, milord."

"This is ridiculous," Aragorn muttered under his breath, following the boy.

-

"I take that back; this is ridiculous," he muttered a day later. Aragorn was pretending to ride a horse, and Patsy, who happened to be a man, was banging two coconuts together, making it sound like a horse trotting. This was the amendment from the real horses that he would have normally used. And, when he usually went out, many men volunteered to go with him. This time, all had backed away and made excuses. He wondered if it were the fact that he had a man banging coconuts together right behind him…

Of a sudden, the mist that fogged his vision cleared and there was a large fortress right in front of him.

"Well, that was unexpected…" he muttered. He stopped, and Patsy stopped as well, giving a little neigh.

A soldier stood on top the wall and looked down through the mist. "Halt!" he yelled.

"I have halted!" the King shouted back at him, slightly annoyed.

"Oh… well, who goes there?!"

"It be Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elessar Telcontar, the Elfstone, the Envinyatar, the Renewer, the Heir of Isildur and Elendil, King of all Gondor and Arnor, also known as Longshanks, Estel, Wingfoot, Strider, and Thorongil."

There was a moment of silence. "What sort of names are those? I mean, Longshanks? Wingfoot? Enviny-whatever?"

"Envinyatar!" he shouted. "And those were received over my long years of travel."

"Why don't you just settle with one name?" the soldier shouted.

"I… well… um… because important people have long names!" he yelled.

"So if I added a bunch of ridiculous titles and names to myself, I would be important? And whoever said you were important?"

"No! And they are not ridiculous! And… hey! I am important! I'm the king of Gondor and Arnor!"

"We don't have a king," the soldier shouted.

"You do too!"

"Since when?"

"Since the fall of Sauron ten years ago!"

"Sauron fell?" The soldier looked confused.

Aragorn looked up at him, dumbfounded. Finally, he managed to ask, "Where have you been?"

"I'm not sure…" The soldier fell silent for a moment, and there was an uncomfortable silence.

"Er… anyhow, I hope you can be of service. My servant Patsy and I have ridden for many leagues, through the harsh winter in search of the bravest lords in the land for my court in Minas Tirith."

"Two problems with that: one, Minas Tirith is a day away, and two, you aren't riding." The soldier crossed his arms and looked at the King sternly.

"Er… never mind about Minas Tirith, but I am riding!"

"A horse?"

"Yes!"

"You are using coconuts!"

"…What?"

"You've got two empty halves of coconuts and you're banging them together. That's not a horse."

Aragorn looked around nervously. He was told to act like Patsy was a horse, so…

"So what? We have ridden long through the winter snows-"

"Have not. You came from Minas Tirith, which is a day away."

"-and have ridden through terrifying storms-"

"Where did you get the coconuts?"

"-and… er… we found them."

"You found coconuts in Gondor?"

"Yes, but no matter-"

"That's impossible!"

"What?"

The soldier shook his head. "The coconut is tropical. Gondor is a temperate zone."

Aragorn shook his head. "Well, a swallow may fly south for the winter, yet it is not a stranger to this land."

"Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"

"Not at all! It could have been carried."

"What? A swallow carrying a coconut?"

"Why not?"

"I'll tell you why not… because a swallow is about eight inches long and weighs five ounces, and you'd be lucky to find a coconut under a pound, that's why."

Aragorn looked baffled. "Well, it could grip it by the husk…"

"It's not a question of where it grips it," started the soldier again. "It's a simple matter of weight-ratios. A five-ounce bird could not hold a one pound coconut."

"Well, it doesn't matter," said Aragorn. "Go and tell your lord that the King is here."

There was a slight pause. Aragorn hoped that he had gotten through to the man.

"Look! To maintain velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings four hundred and ninety three times every second. Right?"

Aragorn groaned. "Please go and get me your lord!"

"Am I not right?" The soldier raised an eyebrow.

"I am not interested." He looked around him as to make his point.

Suddenly, another soldier appeared on the wall. Aragorn started to ask him to fetch his lord, but he then started to speak. "It could be carried by an African swallow!"

"Oh yes!" agreed the first soldier. "An African swallow maybe… but not a European swallow, and that's my point."

The second soldier nodded in agreement. "Yes, I agree there… but are there such things as African and European swallows in Middle-earth?"

"No, no, that would make no sense… but that means we have a different type of swallow here… maybe akin to the African swallow? Then it may be able to carry the coconut."

"Are there even such things as swallows in Middle-earth? And coconuts?"
"I don't know…" The first soldier put his hand to his chin, silently thinking.

The King let out a breath of air. "Can you please ask your lord if he would like to join my Parallelogram Table?!"

The first soldier finally spoke. "But the King has coconuts, so there must be coconuts in Middle-earth-"

"But then again, this world is far from canonical, so there may not be coconuts in Middle-earth," the first soldier countered.

Aragorn sighed, giving up, and turned away to the east.

"True, true…"

"But then again, maybe he lied and he really got the coconuts in Minas Tirith-"

"But where would have those coconuts come from? Sparrows?"

"Oh yes, that's true…"