What if "The Lord of the Rings"had been written by Robert Jordan

Robert Jordan:

by razblow

I just had to write some teeny weeny parody about Robert Jordan’s utter infatuation with ladies habits of *smoothing their skirts*. CONSTANTLY SMOOTHING THEIR... What gives, Mr. Jordan?!?!?!? It annoys the hell outta me!!!
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‘Light!’ thought Frodo, smoothing his skirts. He had toh toward this Darngalf, Gondorf, or whatever the hell he called himself. And that wasn’t the least of his problems.

‘Blood and ashes! Blood and bloody ashes! As if this light forsaken ring-ter’angreal isn’t enough to worry about, Sam likes Rose Cotton too,’ whined Frodo inwardly. Frodo was hopelessly in love with Rose.

The Mithril-angreal coat of Bilbo’s, given to Frodo as a birthday present, had the magical quality of attracting the female sex. The problem was, it didn’t just attract Hobbits. Indeed, the Dark Lord Sauron Himself, having just experienced a gender crisis, had visited the Shire in response to the Mithril-angreal coat’s potent magic.

[Recorded in the Green Book, otherwise titled, “New Evidence of Early Mordoric Shire Interventionism,” Sauron’s gender-confused visit and subsequent mysterious disappearance from the Shire, has led some historians to posit a revisionist theory, namely, the ‘Two-Sauron’ theory, arguing that there are, in fact, two Sauron’s.]

Frodo didn’t now why Rose resisted. He suspected that Samwise Gamgee had a powerful ter’angreal of his own that counteracted the Mithril-angreals potencies. Perhaps, the garden hoe? Or maybe the edge trimmers. The gaffer would have a few things to say about that.

Frodo proceeded to introspect for a further 50 pages, then took another 200 pages to step outside his Hobbit hole.

Frodo once again smoothed his skirts, but he didn’t know why.

-- “The Shire Rising” Book 13 of The Wheel of Ring, pp. 831 - 1081.

Aragorn had been sitting in the Prancing Pony smoothing his skirts for 123.5 needless pages, introspecting and describing the surroundings in unnecessary, excruciatingly painful and irrelevant detail.

Aragorn could speak to wolves, but couldn’t speak to mice, which annoyed them no end.

[97 why-so-much-detail-I could-write-the-Wheel-of-Time-in-3-Books pages later...]

One wolf, Stopper, had entered the Prancing Pony in search of Aragorn for a wee chat, only to be set upon and ripped to shreds by drunken Half Elven Quarter Orc-Hobbits, the latest invention of Saruman the Bright Lavender of the Crocodile Sept, son of Steve Irwin.

Aragorn once again smoothed his skirts, but he didn’t know why.

-- “The Ranger Reborn” Book 87 of the Wheel of Ring, p. 347-444

Gandalf the Prey drew on Sai-Maia, the female half of the source, smoothing his skirts as he did so. Ah, the light, sweet Sai-Maia swirling all around and through him in voluptuous ecstatic bursts of rapturous power! The candy-coated river of power beckoned to him to keep drawing on more, till he felt like bursting.

‘Hmmm... if only I could encapsulate this experience into a Milkshake flavour,’ thought Gandalf.

Then Gandalf remembered that he should be drawing on the male half of the source.

Laughing at him, the Balrog stepped forward.

Gandalf once again smoothed his skirts, but he didn’t know why.

-- “The Path of Haggis” Book 158 of the Wheel of Ring, p. 1549.

Merry, nigh on slumping to the floor, smoothed his skirts and drained the final dregs of his Ent draught. Merry had wanted to qualify for the Gondor basketball team, but they had deemed him too short, unable to compete with the local Haradrim lads, and thus relegated him to the place of Mascot. Well, at least he got to wear his Ring wraith Mascot outfit to the games, and taunt the local lads from downtown Harad.

“Where’s your big Nazgul now, eh? Dining with Mr. S, maybe? Oh, I forgotest: the big S is now BS!” With such, Merry often fell to the ground giggling hysterically till he couldn’t breathe, and would suffocate. And many other taunts Merry spake to them.

Having become firm and resolute of mind, Merry had disciplined himself recently, and had gone on a diet of turnips and Ent draught. Merry was now grown to over 7 feet tall, and could slam dunk better than any Hobbit in memory. Once, he even head butted a troll to death.

438 pages and one paragraph later, Merry stood on the basketball court, awaiting the beginning of his first game.

Merry smoothed his skirts then, but he didn’t know why.

-- “Post-Sauronic Musings of a Totalizing Hobbit” Appendix X, Book 9999 of the Wheel of Ring.

Gimli son of Groin, and Legoflamb, sat opposite one another, smoothing their skirts in perfect unison.

“42 times, Master Elf! 42 times! That’s sure to be a new record!” boasted Gimli, obviously pleased with himself.

“So you overtaken my count by one, Master Dwarf. I myself could only manage 41 skirt smoothes in 30 seconds.”

Like a graceful doe, Legoflamb sprang to his feet, and declared, “There be a band of 20 Orcs, not 5 minutes from here. My Elf eyes confirm it.”

Gimli and Legolas grabbed their weapons and ran toward the Orc group, falling upon them in might and terrible wrath.

[Editors note: of course, this is a highly compressed summary, of which it took 3 chapters to describe this event in the original manuscripts].

Inexplicably, half way through the epic battle, both friend and foe, felt the irresistible urge to drop their weapons. And so they did.

Orc, Elf and Dwarf, all alike, began smoothing their skirts, though they hadn’t the foggiest idea why.

-- “The Skirts of Heaven” Book 47 of the Wheel of Ring, p. 650-1003.