The Fellowship kept a brisk pace on the road to Minus Punctual, until a Fire Drake suddenly descended from a great height. It streamed a flaming torrent of obscenities upon the nearest forest, quickly reducing it to glowing embers.
"Is that Shmug?" asked PRadriel, straining her Elf eyes.
"I believe it might beee ... Gluaringtypo," chimed Eerowyn. "Yep."
"Nope," said Cool Dude Merry. "That's definitely Analogous."
By the time everyone was done farting around trying to place a name with the face, the Dragon had landed in the road before them!
The Dwarves readied their ink quills, searching for any missing scales in the behemoth's armor to deal a decisive deathblow, while Gimlyroo waited to give them the order to fire.
Riding atop the beast was a woman who said proudly with steadfast determination,
"I am D'Ahavanerys Stormborn of House Grammargaryen, the First of my name, Queen of Assonance, Consonance, and the First Alliterations, Protector of the Seven Punctuations, the Mother of Dragons, the Card Dealer of the Great Crystal Deck, the Unburnt Toast Buttered with Ghee, and the Breaker of Poetry Rules and Chains."
And a man behind her, holding onto the Dragon for dear life, said,
"I am Johnny Snow. April is coming."
Ganjosh the Gray shook his head in exasperation and said "No, no, no. You're in the wrong NaPoWriMo. This is The Lord of the Poems!
You want Game of Poems
one continent over!" And he grumbled to himself, Amateurs.
Later that day, they arrived at Minus Punctual, but the guards refused to open the citadel's massive gate. Steward Doneitbefore appeared upon the high wall, lording over them, while his council Wyrmholler addressed the Fellowship waiting below.
"WHAT A BUNCH OF MISERABLE VAGABONDS," he derided. "CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT THE HOUR IS NIGH TO CONCEDE MOAR!ON's VICTORY OVER MUDDLE EARTH?!"
"Ugh," winced Summdir. "His shouting in all CAPS is migraine inducing."
"We did not come here to treat with a halfwit wyrmhole the likes of you," said Jaragorn.
"AND WHO ARE YOU TO TALK DOWN TO ME FROM DOWN THERE WHEN I'M UP HERE TALKING DOWN TO YOU?" mocked the Steward's council.
Lady Ahavarwen rode forward on her donkey and declared, "This is Lord Jaragorn, son of Jaragorn, son of Jaragorn Tolkien, and you owe him your allegiance!"
A hush came over the Steward's council, while numerous city guards murmured excitedly, for Jaragorn was heir to the throne of the Western Men!
And coincidentally, a Tolkien Jrr.