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"How do I look?" Carl asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation.
I tilted my head, smiled, and said, "You look like a nervous schoolboy on picture day, getting his picture taken."
"How do I look?" I returned the question.
"You look normal, like a Sunday school teacher."
I made a face between confusion, disgust and amusement, and let out a bark of a laugh.
Sauron grabbed Galadriel's hand, and she immediately fell unconscious. She awoke in a memory, tainted by the Dark Lord's hand.
"Get out of my head!" She screamed into the ether.
"Galadriel," Sauron said as he appeared before her in his current earthly form, "you know me, I am your friend."
"Wait a minute. Just wait." she said as she looked him up and down. His shirt was torn, exposing his chiseled muscular body.
"You look... different" she said as she narrowed her eyes incredulously.
"Umm..n-no I don't." he stammered.
"Yes, there's definitely something off with this mindfuck" she said, stroking her chin thoughtfully.
"Galadriel, I think I know a thing or two about mind trips, I've been doing this for ages, and this one in particular is goddamn perfect."
"Ah!" She exclaimed, "I see it now! You definitely don't have a six pack in real life. HAH!"
"Uhhh... yeah I do" he replied, eyes darting frantically to and fro, as if looking for a way to distract the astute elf.
"No you definitely don't, I've never seen you doing enough sit-ups for that kind of six-pack," she remarked, "and you love to eat; I've seen you eat an entire turkey and five pies in one sitting. I mean, I know the pies in Númenorrrr are to die for, but five in one sitting?? Come on."
"LIES!" Sauron screamed as the fabricated world shook with his anger.
"Wait a minute!" a louder, congested-sounding voice suddenly interrupted; Herman, a basement-dwelling LOTR fanboy shook his head and hit the pause button on his computer, freezing Sauron and Galadriel on his computer monitor mid-sentence.
"This doesn't actually make any sense!" he said, scoffing indignantly. "We're talking about Sauron here, the Dark fucking Lord! He has the power to make his corporeal form look any way he wants! If he wanted to have a six-pack in real-life, he easily could, no matter how many pies he ate. Every idiot knows that." he said, laughing haughtily.
"HERALD!" a voice above him called out. "GET UP HERE AND TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE, RIGHT NOW! I don't let you live in my basement rent-free for nothing!"
His mother shook her head and wondered why he kept watching a series that he clearly hated. Was he a masochist? Had she raised some sort of pervert that took pleasure in inflicting suffering upon himself??
Harold wiped off the cheese dust from his fingers, sighed dramatically and hoisted himself up, tripping over several bottles of urine (his) as he made his way to the door.
"Wait a minute," a third, even louder voice said. It was Katarina, an annoyingly snarky blogger plagued with permanent bed-head, social anxiety, and the dream to someday self-publish a book that no one would read. "Since I wrote this," Katarina continued, "it means that I know that Sauron could eat as many pies as he wanted to, and still have a six pack; doesn't that make me the real dork here?"
She licked the cheese powder off of her fingers, and tilted her head thoughtfully while reaching for her can of orange soda (the choice drink of little children).
