Dessicated Coconut

Lord Of The Swoons: Part Three


The Bingo Flyer
The Palantir

(BLACK SCREEN. No logo, no title, nothing. Then we hear a VOICE-OVER.)

YOU KNOW WHO (VO): Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. (solemn pause) And so we ask ourselves: will our actions echo across centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved? After the Lord of the Rings films, will there still be those who swoon
for us?

SHIELDMATRON: *passes out in bliss*

SOMEBODY ELSE (VO): Many threads ago, the Fazguls decided to write a Lord of the Swoons script. So they did. And then they stopped. And a shadow seemed to loom over them. And they were warned by the Mods for being off topic too often. And December was still so very far away. And then, one day, the Lord of the Swoon returned...

SOME OTHER SOMEBODY ELSE (VO): In the land of TORC, in the threads of Fandom, the Fazguls forged a Lord of the Swoons screenplay to rule all other Lord of the Swoons screenplays. And they had a helluva lot of fun while doing it. This is their story...

MAKE_IT_STOP (VO): Hey, uh, guys? We done with the voice-overs yet?

SUEB (VO): Yes, we should really get on with the story, you know.

FARAWEN (VO): Sorry. It's just that I really, really, really, really like voice-overs. Apologies. Anyway, moving on...



(We are watching the PROLOGUE: Thousands of years ago. DE_LURKER and FARAMIRFAN2 are sitting in a boat, fishing. They are wearing headbands and legwarmers and Culture Club t-shirts. Because this is, like, the olden days and stuff.)

FARAMIRFAN2: Oh! Oh! de_lurker! I got one!

DE_LURKER: Hahahaha! Go on! Pull it in!


(She is pulled overboard by a gigantic fish. She lets go of the fishing pole. She spots a crumpled piece of paper caught in the weeds. Coughing and spluttering, she brings it up onto the riverbank. Opening her closed fist, she reveals a flyer advertising Bingo Night at the Marrickville Town Hall. There is an intriguing picture of a young man with red hair, full lips, and sharp cheekbones.)

DE_LURKER: Faramirfan2... give us that, Faramirfan2, my love.

FARAMIRFAN2: (suspiciously) Why?

DE_LURKER: Because it's my birthday, and I wants it.

(They begin to circle each other slowly. The BINGO FLYER calls out to them.)

BINGO FLYER: N-37.....B-6.....O-65.....

FARAMIRFAN2: (to flyer) Keep your nasssty bingo chips! Give it to us lllllimp, and coated in oil!

DE_LURKER: (wrestling with FARAMIRFAN2) Unh! Grunt. It's mine!

(After a brief struggle, FARAMIRFAN2 lies unconscious on the ground clutching a torn corner of the flyer. DE_LURKER runs a hand across the photo.)

DE_LURKER: My...prrrrrrrrecious.

DE_LURKER (VO): They cursed us. "Silly swooner", that's what they called us. "Teenybopper". They cursed and drove us away.


DE_LURKER: (clutching throat) *wennum!* *wennum!*

DE_LURKER (VO): And we wept, precious. We wept to be so far from Region 4 DVDs.

(DE_LURKER bites into a rented "Crocodile Hunter" DVD, spits it out.)

DE_LURKER (VO): And we forgot the taste of strawberries....the steroidal biceps of Brad Pitt.....the of Eric Bana.


(DE_LURKER crawls into a huge cave labelled "" and signs up for a PM account under a pseudonym. Immediately, her sig pic begins to transform into David Wenham.)

DE_LURKER (VO): We even forgot our own name.


(DE_LURKER is squatting in the dark cave, the flyer in her hands. She closes her eyes, then reopens them, and looks at the flyer. Creepy music swells.)

DE_LURKER: My own, precious.



(In a cave, PRINCESSFAZ is sleeping while SHIELDMATRON is fingering her Sharpe DVDs, every once in a while glancing in PRINCESSFAZ' direction. When she hears DE_LURKER approaching, she quickly hides them under her Elven cloak.)

DE_LURKER: Wake up! Wake up, sleepies! We must go, yessss...We must go at once!

(PRINCESSFAZ sits up and looks at SHIELDMATRON.)

PRINCESSFAZ: Haven't you had any sleep, Shieldmatron?

(SHIELDMATRON wordlessly shakes her head, trying to not draw attention to the Sharpe DVDs bulging her cloak.)

PRINCESSFAZ: I've gone and had too much. Well, swooning sure takes it out of ya.

(She stretches, and looks around.)

PRINCESSFAZ: It must be getting late.

SHIELDMATRON: (a flicker of insanity in her eyes) Well... you know... it's never too late for... Sharpe!!

(PRINCESSFAZ turns to her, terrified. SHIELDMATRON clasps her hand to her mouth in realisation. But too late. The earth shakes and rumbles. In the distance, the Borodruin Mountain erupts.)

DE_LURKER: Nooo! Not the Bean!

PRINCESSFAZ: It's taken hold of you. We must get rid of it!

SHIELDMATRON: (looks miserable)

DE_LURKER: Come on! Must go, no time! No time to lose!

PRINCESSFAZ: Let's go, Shieldmatron!

(She half drags SHIELDMATRON behind her. DE_LURKER leads the way, often turning around to see if they keep up with her and urging them on.)

DE_LURKER: Very close now. Very close to Bordor. No safe places here. Hurry!



(The Faramir Swooners are welcoming NIMRODELSONG, DONISIEL, and LALAITHURWEN who are coming over for a visit.)

ILLIARIS: Welcome, my friends, to the Faramir swooning thread!

NIMRODELSONG: You, young rascals! You invited us over here for a barbeque and stuff, and now we find you watching DVDs and - and swooning!

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: We are sitting on the field of swooniness, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The Sons of the Steward scene is particulary good.

LALAITHURWEN: Sons of the Steward scene?

INNOCENTEVIL: (shakes head) Faramir Swooners...



(At the Golden Hall of Threaduseld, the Faramir Swooners have gathered to honor those who are not with them anymore.)

LADYSTEFANIA: Tonight we remember those who gave their swoons to defend this thread. And those who have not returned, but whom we will keep in our hearts forever. (She raises her goblet.) Hail the ex-Fazguls!


(Later on, they are celebrating. LISELLE and LHAEWIN are dancing on a table, singing.)

Oh you can search far and wide,
Look around in all of Fandom,
But you'll never find a lip so full
As the one we swoon over in this thread!
You can keep your fancy Elf ears,
And you can keep your smelly Kings,
For the only Steward for the true Fazguls,
Lives in Ithi-i-lien!

(Everybody claps and cheers. Standing off to one side, MAKE_IT_STOP and SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN are discussing heavier matters.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: No news of Matron and PF?


MAKE_IT_STOP: We have time. Every day they move closer to Bordor.


MAKE_IT_STOP: What does your fully automatic solar high-tech Sharpe DVDs tracking system tell you?

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: (smiling) That they are on their way.



(The Faramir swooners are laying around the sleeping room at Threaduseld, snoring. SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN gets up, looks around, picks her way around the soundly sleeping swooners and makes her way to MAKE_IT_STOP, who is sleeping with her eyes open, holding a DVD player.)

FARAWEN: What are you doing?

(SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN motions her to be quiet, then goes to and slips the palantir out of her hands.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: mumble mumble, David, mummble, dessicated coconut.


SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: I just want to look at it! Just one more time...

(She unwraps the palantir and takes hold of it, looking into it. Suddenly she is unable to let go.)

THE PALANTIR: (mysteriously looking like a huge green eye and using a sheffield accent) I see you...

(SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN tries to let go, but she can't. She writhes around.)



(We're outside, where ANUHEALANI has gone to gaze at the stars and daydream about redheads. She sees SUEB off to the side, looking frowny.)

SUEB: The swooners' eyes are veiled. Something stirs on TORC... a chest-hairless malice. The Eye of the Bean is moving...



SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN (making the same kind of face someone makes when they eat a mango, and breathing heavily)




SUEB: (suddenly looks startled) He is here!

(SUEB and ANUHEALANI race inside.)



FARAWEN: Oh darn this! I'm finally going to call for help! MIS!!

(MAKE_IT_STOP jumps up at the same time SUEB and ANUHEALANI race inside. ITHILIENRANGERETTE grabs the palantir from SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN, but she instantly succumbs to the Bean and falls woozily to the floor. The palantir rolls across the floor until MAKE_IT_STOP throws an Australian Rules Football scarf over it.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: (turning to SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN, outraged) Ninny of a swooner!



(Meanwhile, elsewhere, SHIELDMATRON and PRINCESSFAZ are arguing.)

PRINCESSFAZ: Why did you look? Why do you ALWAYS have to look?!

SHIELDMATRON: I don't know... I can't help it!

PRINCESSFAZ: You never can. *glares*

SHIELDMATRON: I'm sorry, all right!

PRINCESSFAZ: You are so embarrassing. How could you stare at his butt so obviously? IN PUBLIC!??

SHIELDMATRON: *averts eyes, kicks dirt*



(SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN prepares to leave for Gondor. PRINCESSOFITHILIEN places a leather pouch in her hands.)

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: Here... Something for the road.

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: The last of the Lower Lip Leaf!

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: I know you've run out. You drool too much, SMOR.

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: On second thought, let's not go to Gondor...'tis a silly place.



(ELFPRINCESSBUTTERCUP wanders through the woods, humming softly. As the camera pans closer, we can hear her words.)

All that is sexy is not Orli,
Not all those who swoon are mindless clay.
The faithful Fazgurls will never fade away--
Throbbing hearts untouched by the Bori

From TORC a Fandom shall be woken
Giving light to those that doubt
and faint for his nobility that shines throughout
Once more TORC will love his nobility unbroken.



(INNOCENTEVIL and NIMRODELSONG are standing on a balcony. NIMRODELSONG is inspecting the armor she has been given.)

NIMRODELSONG: So I imagine this is just a ceremonial position. I mean, they don't actually expect me to do any swooning?

(Pause as she looks at INNOCENTEVIL.)


INNOCENTEVIL: You're in the service of The Red-Haired One now, you're going to have to do as you're told.


(Horrified, she scans the thread for the nearest exit.)



(The Faramir Swooners are standing on yet another balcony in Wendor gazing at Bordor. Dark clouds and lightening are seen, ash and fire spew forth from its center.)

SOLITH_ELF: It's oh so quiet...

SH_WULFF: It's the deep breath before the plunge.

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: Is there any hope, MIS, for Shieldmatron, PrincessFaz, and de_lurker?

MAKE_IT_STOP: There never was much hope…just a fool’s hope.

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: Um, I don’t want to upset you or anything but your, uh, motivational skills need a little work. Next you’ll be telling the Fazguls that courage is their best defense now.


PRINCESSOFITHILIEN (contd.) I mean, COME ON, you’ve been around a long time and that’s ALL you can come up with?

(She gets bopped in the head with MAKE_IT_STOP’s staff.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: Our enemy is ready, his full strength gathered. Not only Borobeanies, but legions of Aragornites from the South, Legolassies from the North, Frodolovers with their incredibly scary oversized blue eyes from the East. All will answer Bordor’s call. This will be the end of Wendor as we know it. Here the hammer-stroke will fall the hardest….


MAKE_IT_STOP: Why, what?

WILMA: Why will it fall hardest here?

MAKE_IT_STOP: Must you keep interrupting me, POI?

WILMA: I’m Wilma. We’re just curious is all, I mean you’ve basically said we’re doomed. I, for one, would at least like to know why.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Alright then, the Bean was always jealous of the attention bestowed upon The Red-Headed One by the fangirls, he wanted them all for himself…

(RAKSHA, SUEB, and CRESSIDA look at each other incredulously.)

CRESSIDA: Um, excuse us, but there never was any jealousy between them, only great love.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Silence, this is my story. Those tender blue eyes - not too large, not too small…

RAKSHA, SUEB, and CRESSIDA: (in unison) Grey.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Grey, what?

FARAWEN: They’re supposed to be grey.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Doh!!! Where was I, that quivering lower lip, the cute innie/outie bellybutton, the hands, the ginger stubble, the dimples…

FAZGULS: (in unison) *sigh* the dimples….

MAKE_IT_STOP: The soft and fluffy red hair gently blowing in the breeze…

RAKSHA, SUEB, and CRESSIDA: (in unison) Black.


FARAWEN: Yes, his hair is supposed to be black.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Listen, Fazguls, this is TRHO we’re talking about not TBHO.

(MAKE_IT_STOP is lost in thought, staring lovingly at one of DE_LURKER’s old sig pics.)

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Hello? MIS? You with us? Are you drooling? You are!! You’re drooling!!! Ewww, that’s disgusting!!

MAKE_IT_STOP: No, no I am not drooling. It’s tears, yes, that’s it, tears, I have ash in my eyes. Where was I? Oh yes, these physical features angered the Bean. But there was one thing that angered him more than anything else, the one thing he could not accept…

SINGINGFOX73: Yes, yes, go on!

MAKE_IT_STOP: I’m creating suspense...


MAKE_IT_STOP: The voice. It was the voice that the Bean hated most. That soft, sing-song like voice. That perfect, fake, English accent…

WHEREISMYSAM: But we have you, MIS, the Big Red Wizard, that’s got to count for something?

MAKE_IT_STOP: The Bean has yet to release his deadliest servant, the one who will lead Bordor’s armies in war, the one they say no fanmale can kill. The Cowboy. You’ve met him before, on Wenhamtop.

WHEREISMYSAM: The mean looking dude who wore that stupid, long, black duster and cowboy hat?

LADY_NIWELLA: The one who tried to lick LadyStef and put that temporary tattoo of Matron’s latest sig pic on her forehead?

MAKE_IT_STOP: Yes, he is Lord of the Bozgul. The other Bozgul fear him – Ranuccio, Spence, Alec, Mellors, Richard, Andy, Partridge, even the mighty O-Dee.

(At that moment a large pillar of light fills the sky above Bordor.)

RAKSHA, SUEB, and CRESSIDA: (in unison) Is that signal light coming out of Bordor the same shade of green as Sean Bean’s eyes?

FARAWEN: Yes, I believe it is.

RAKSHA, SUEB, and CRESSIDA: (in unison) Then the light SHOULD be grey!!!


SH_WULFF: Solith, there is a task to be done. Another opportunity for one of the Shwooner-folk to show their worth. You must not fail me.


(They walk through the streets of the City. SOLITH_ELF climbs to the top of a giant pile of Wenham DVDs, and pours oil all over them. The covers become incandescent with irresistibility. As the camera pans back, we see FARAMIRFAN2 pouring oil over her DVDs on a mountain top not far off.)

SH_WULFF: Amon Dust.

LISELLE: Swoonage is kindled.

(One by one, the rest of the Beacons are oiled: Russianardol, Beterthansex, Crochunter, Bankkk, Getinsquar, Vanhelsing.)

BAB5NUTZ: (racing into the Golden Hall) The DVDs of Minfaz Tirith! The DVDs are oiled. Wenhamdor calls for aid!

SPACEPIRATE: And the Rohan swooners will answer. Muster the Xena series!



(In the midst of a cavernous room within the Swoony Mountains, SHIELDMATRON, with PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER at her side, confront the Army of the Die-Hard Faramir swooners.

QUILLON: The Fazzy swooners do not suffer the Borobeanies to pass.

SHIELDMATRON: You will suffer me and my Sharpe movies.

(Behind her, PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER waver and waffle...)

PRINCESSFAZ: Um...I've never seen the Sharpe movies.

DE_LURKER: Me neither, preciousss.

PRINCESSFAZ: Did you see Father Damien? BTS? The Two Towers?

DE_LURKER: I have seen TRHO, a long time ago.

(SHIELDMATRON looks around in a panic as she realizes her friends have deserted her.)

SHIELDMATRON: *clutching Sharpe's Honour to her chest* Oh !



(PRINCESSFAZ is shaking SHIELDMATRON, who is still half asleep.)

PRINCESSFAZ: Matron, you’ve GOT to stop with those weird Bean fits you’re getting every time you close your eyes. I can’t sleep when you’re always stuttering incoherently and EVEN IN YOUR SLEEP. Wake up now, time to get going anyway!

SHIELDMATRON: That was… a weird dream, though.

(The camera lingers on her face for a few seconds, taking in her reaction. The dream has triggered memories of the Faramir Swooners they left behind a while ago, when they decided to find the way into Bordor. SHIELDMATRON sighs heavily, her eyes sad.)



(SHIELDMATRON, PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER are making their way through the woods. SHIELDMATRON is deep in thoughts. We hear a voice and realise that it’s a FLASHBACK.)

(A tent on the mountain cliff of Hunkarrow, evening. Cosy fires, the Faramir swooners are sitting outside their tents and enjoy the beautiful evening. In the background, we can hear MAKE_IT_STOP recite a poem.)

Seek for the Swoon that was Broken
In Fazladris it dwells
There shall be councils taken
Stronger than Yorkshire spells
There shall be shown a token
That heresy is near at hand
For Shieldmatron's Bane shall awaken
And the Beanling forth shall stand.
The broad-shouldered Beanling.
The handsome, broad-shouldered Beanling.
The disheveled, bare-chested, handsome, broad-shouldered...

(Sound of cold water being dashed onto face.)

SHIELDMATRON (handing SOLITH_ELF some photos and Action Figures of Boromir): There, a true swooner of Boz.

(SOLITH_ELF, beaming, waves the actions figures around. SHIELDMATRON laughs.)

SOLITH_ELF: Sorry, tisn't all that dangerous, it's not even Sharpe.

SHIELDMATRON: Well, that won’t do, you won’t convert many swooners without a photo of Sharpe. C'mon, to the beanboxboard.

(SOLITH_ELF runs off, smiling. SHIELDMATRON watches her go. SH_WULFF and MAKE_IT_STOP have been sitting at a fire outside the tent looking secretly at photos of Eomer.)

SH_WULFF (frowning at SHIELDMATRON): You should not encourage her.

SHIELDMATRON: And you should not doubt her.

SH_WULFF: I do not doubt her swooning capabilities, only the reach of Boz's… ahem… arm.

(MAKE_IT_STOP laughs.)

SHIELDMATRON: (outraged) Why should she not swoon for Boz? She has as much shallow hormones as you. (She looks dreamily off at a billboard for Troy in the distance) Why should she not swoon for those she loves…?

MAKE_IT_STOP: (softly) Shieldmatron… We all swoon for those we love. And there’s nothing wrong with swooning for more than one man.

(SHIELDMATRON turns and looks at her.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: (smiling) You will always be welcome in the Lil Bro’s thread, Matron. Even if you have Boz in your sig more often than Faz.

(SH_WULFF nods. SHIELDMATRON smiles, acknowledging MIS’ words silently. FADE back to…)

(The present. SHIELDMATRON discreetly wipes away a tear, then looks around to see if PRINCESSFAZ or DE_LURKER noticed. They didn’t. SHIELDMATRON sighs heavily and focuses on the path ahead of her. In the distance, the Borodruin grumbles. )



(SHIELDMATRON, PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER are lost in the woods. Frustrated, PRINCESSFAZ throws her map into the next bush and sits down on the grass.)

PRINCESSFAZ: There are times when I’m not sure if this really was a great idea.

(DE_LURKER sniffs at a discarded Faramir sig pic that’s been rotting in the woods.)

SHIELDMATRON: The Sharpe DVDs grow heavier with each step I take. We’re getting closer to Bordor.

DE_LURKER: I could help a bit! I could carry them for a while.


PRINCESSFAZ: Whoa, stay calm, ladies.

DE_LURKER: I don’t want to keep them! I just want to help.

SHIELDMATRON: Get away from me! Go home!




SHIELDMATRON: (contd.) In fact, why don’t we all go home? I haven’t gazed upon a swoony Faramir pic for quite a while now…

(PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER look at each other. DE_LURKER grins.)

DE_LURKER : Yes. Let’s go home.

(They all smile.)


(SHIELDMATRON, PRINCESSFAZ and DE_LURKER climbing up a grassy hill. Suddenly, they hear a voice.)

(We CUT to a long line of Faramir swooners on a battlefield just on the other side of the hill, opposing an army of fangirlish Leggy swooners. From afar we hear their babbling Netspeak. SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN, sitting on a horse, turns to her fellow swooners.)

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Arise! Arise, Swooners of Faramir! Sanity shall be shaken, reason shall be splintered! A swoon day! A red day... and the level of silliness rises!

PRINCESSFAZ (slowly coming up the hill): Did she say, the level rises? Was she, like, not here the past months?

DE_LURKER: Sssshhh!

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Swoon now! Swoon now! Swoon! Swoon for the Red-Haired One,
and his lower lip!

LADY_NIWELLA: Uh, question? May I swoon for his sword as well?


WILMA: Oh oh oh! Can I swoon for his Faramir voice?

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: (frowns) Sure. I mean -

MAKE_IT_STOP: (interrupting) I want to swoon for his underwear!

SHIELDMATRON: (having made her way to the other Faramir swooners unnoticed) I'll need a cigarette after this.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Hey there, Matron. Where ya been?

SUEB: Cannot BELIEVE no one has mentioned his eyes yet.

DE_LURKER: (carrying the Sharpe DVDs) Hey, can SOMEONE give me a hand here?

FARAWEN: Cousin, about time you showed up. You almost missed out on some serious swooning action.

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Hey, you can all swoon for whatever -

FARAMIRFAN2: Can I swoon for several things at the same time?

WILMA: Sure, why not?

PRINCESSFAZ: That’s a very pretty sig pic you got there, IR.

LISELLE: Hiya, PF. Have a nice trip ?


MAKE_IT_STOP: Which reminds me - can we swoon for his horse or is that kind of sick?

DE_LURKER: Get in line, MIS.


FARAWEN: Can we swoon for things we haven't seen yet? Like, Faramir in the Houses of Healing?


FARAWEN: Was it something I said...?

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: *reads the newspaper*

SOLITH_ELF: I'll swoon for whatever I see, hear, or smell of him. No matter what, really. I'm easy.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Did I just hear smell of him...?

DE_LURKER: Get in line, MIS.

SHIELDMATRON: I'll also need a drink after this.

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Um, guys? Wasting time here.

ALL: Yeah! Right. Let's get started.

(SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN mounts her horse again.)





DE_LURKER: Get. In. Line. MIS!



SHIELDMATRON: I'll also need an oxygen treatment after this.


Gigantic battle scene. Mucho butt kicking. A lot of CGI. Kewl music. A highlight of the film, many members of the audience will later say.

Anyway. Moving on.



(The Fazguls are gathered in the Citadel of Minas Tirith after the battle.)

FARAWEN: The Houses of Healing scene has passed beyond my sight. The wait for the EE is long.

FARAMIRFAN2: If PJ had the scene, we would know it.

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: It's only a matter of time... beyond the walls of Bordor the editors for the DVD are regrouping.

PRINCESSFAZ: Let them stay there! Let them rot! Why should we care?

FARAWEN: Because 10,000 Legolassies stand between us and extra Faz scenes.

(A chorus of grumbles is heard throughout the room.)

SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: No, there's still hope! He needs more scenes, and a way to get them safely across the plains of Bormorath. We can give him that!


SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN: Draw out PJ's army of Leggy swooners. Empty his lands. We will gather our full silliness and march on the gate with our rewritten script.

SHIELDMATRON: We cannot achieve extra scenes through strength of swoons.

PRINCESSFAZ: Not for ourselves... but we can give Faramir a chance to get the recognition he deserves if we keep PJ's eye fixed on us... keep him blind to all other men of Middle-Earth that move.

MAKE_IT_STOP (grinning): A perversion.

LADY_NIWELLA: PJ will suspect a trap... he thinks that Aragorn, Frodo and Legolas are the only Men of Middle-Earth that people care about. He won't take the bait.

WHEREISMYSAM: Certainty of thread locking.... small chance of swooning... what are we waiting for?



(The Farawraiths stand outside of the gates of Bordor, armed with smiling Fazzy coronation pictures and DW pictures from the ROTK and Van Helsing premieres. The gates open to reveal a whole horde of squealing fangirls, screaming and babbling in netspeak. The Farawraiths are horribly outnumbered and look at each other nervously. Finally, FARAWEN jumps up and shouts to the rest of them.)

FARAWEN: Hold your swoons! Hold your drool! Daughters of Wenhamsdor, of Fazhan! My sisters! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the swoons from me! A day may come when the courage of Farawraiths fail, when we forsake our DVDs and break all bonds of swoonership. But it is not this day. An hour of mods and shattered links, when the thread of all things Wenham comes crashing down. But it is not this day! This day we swoon! By all that you hold drool-worthy on this good Earth, I bid you swoon, Fazguls of the Wenham!


PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: I never thought I'd die swooning side-by-side with an Araswooner.

SOLITH_ELF: How about side-by-side with a friend?

PRINCESSFAZ: Aye, I could do that.


Gigantic battle scene II. Mucho butt kicking. A lot of CGI. Kewl music. A highlight of the film, many members of the audience will later say.

Anyway. Moving on.


(SHIELDMATRON is lying on a bed, having a very pleasant dream. The sun streams into the window behind her; birds are singing the Chip Butty song. She wakes and sits up, noticing PRINCESSFAZ sitting near by.)


(They laugh. FARAWEN and DE_LURKER enter. Overjoyed, they both race to the bed and jump on it.)


(SHIELDMAIDENOFROHAN laughs. MAKE_IT_STOP and SUEB come through the door, smiling.)

SHIELDMATRON: (soundlessly, in slow motion) Mmmmakkkke_itttt_stoppppp……Sssssssssueeeeeeeebeeeeeeeee…….

(FARAMIRFAN2, WILMA, LHAEWIN, PRINCESSOFITHILIEN and SH_WULFF enter. Everyone is laughing and piling on the bed.)

SHIELDMATRON: sh_wulff!!! Wilma…..FF2, it’s great to see you….oh, lhaewin! And POI! Ooops, careful…


SHIELDMATRON: Solith!…..Liselle…..! Uh…that’s all right, you don’t have to climb onto the --

(WHEREISMYSAM, LADYSTEF, BAB5NUTZ, NIMRODELSONG, ITHILIENRANGERETTE, RAKSHA, and CRESSIDA race through the doorway with a shout of joy and pile on.)

SHIELDMATRON: Mmph…..Cwess……Ldstef……wmmsss…



SHIELDMATRON: Ungh…Gmrff! Snk!

QUILLON: Do you hear something?

SINGINGFOX73: I think it’s the elves, singing a song of welcome…


ELROND: (crossly) That was a priceless mallorn bed!

LISELLE: Not any more.


ELROND: What is she trying to say?

LADYSTEF: She says to put it on her tab, along with the minibar daiquiris and multiple pay-per-view Lady Chatterlies.

ELROND: Lady Chatterlies? We do not permit the Black Yorkshire Speech to be uttered here in Wenhamdell.

FARAMIRFAN2: Then you shouldn’t have installed satellite TV.

(FADE to Citadel courtyard, which is filled with swooners. DE_LURKER stands before two big posters: one of Faramir, one of Boromir. With markers, she draws a crown on Faramir’s head, and some tiny radiating hearts. Then she draws a red circle with a slash through Boromir. SHIELDMATRON’s hand slowly appears from around the corner, groping for the Boromir poster. DE_LURKER reprimands it lightly with her marker.)

DE_LURKER: Now come the days of the Lip. May they be ever sensual and bee-stung.

(In response, everybody salivates loudly. PRINCESSFAZ walks to the top of the stairs, turns around, and addresses the crowd.)

PRINCESSFAZ: This chest, carpeted with alluring fuzz that appears to extend north, south, east, and west, does not belong to one man, but to all swooners. Let us together establish a garden upon it, that we may share in the days of perving.


PRINCESSFAZ: (singing) A guh molokai drl helsingfriar yumi-hair. Dverdan stubbl-squ Lk muf-fin nvel Stiffff. (Out of the Great Theatre Nepean I am come. In this place will I abide, unto the end of Swoondom, or until the TORC server crashes.)

SUEB: (tapping her foot) Catchy tune, that.

(Much general celebrating and high-fiving. PRINCESSFAZ brings the poster down where everyone can get a closer look. As she walks down the aisle, the bottom of the poster accidentally slips out of her grasp and rolls up.)

WHEREISMYSAM: (in surprise) My Lord! You roll up to no one.

(The entire crowd falls to the ground and curls into a fetal position.)

FARAWEN: (making circling motions with her arm) Come on people, chop chop. We need to get to the Gray Havens.

MAKE_IT_STOP: Oh, right! Sorry.

(FADE to a pencil drawing of FARAMIR, with claw marks and lipstick stains at the edges.)

SUEB: (VO) And thus it was, the Fourth Age of Fandom began, and the Fellowship of the Swooners, though eternally bound by Friendship and Love and Stick-Yuppy Hair and Wenhamsday Swoons and Faramir Character Deconstruction and Many Other Things Beginning With Capital Letters, was ended.

*awkward silence *

SUEB: You mean this thing goes on?

MAKE_IT_STOP: Yep. ‘Fraid so. Eighteen endings, three fake-outs, four new beginnings, eleven cliff-hangers, and a trailer for “The Swoonmarillion”.

SUEB: In that case, I’m going to go get a sandwich. Keep rolling.

SUEB: (VO) Three years to the day since Peter Jackson sent us on our long journey, we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight.

(A small group of swooners rides towards the TORC Fandom Forum. Amidst the smoking rubble, only two threads are left: The Craig Parker Swooning Thread, and the Army of the Dead Swooning Thread.)

CRESSIDA: Oh, no! It’s been scoured! This is the work of the evil m00bies people…

WILMA: (shaking her fists at the skies) As God is my witness, I’ll never swoon again.

(CREDITS roll. The audience starts to stand up.)


(CREDITS unroll. The audience sits down again.)

FARAWEN: (impatiently) Gray Ha-vensss….

MAKE_IT_STOP: We’re getting there.

(At the Red Bedhead, the swooners gather around a table with flagons of region-free ale. SH_WULFF bumps into a reveller carrying a gigantic Eomer mannequin and is distracted. She starts to follow it out the door, but SINGINGFOX73 puts out one arm and restrains her.)

SINGINGFOX73: (quietly) Later.

SH_WULFF: I understand.

DOUG from “Cosi” : (behind the bar, on the TV screen) #&@(*!! $*@!! (He lights a match and flips the bird.)

(WHEREISMYSAM looks at DOUG. She gathers her courage, and goes to rent him. The rest of the Swooners exchange surprised and amused looks.)


(SHIELDMATRON walks through her house, which is devoid of everything save for Beanophenelia.)

SHIELDMATRON: (VO) How do you pick up the pieces of an old life? How do you go on? When in your heart you begin to understand: Sean has a very nice backside…. (sitting down at computer) There are some addictions that time cannot mend. Some hormonal responses go too deep…and they’ve taken hold.

(She composes a TORC post praising Denny’s boys, chock-full of octuple entendres and devil smilies. She clutches her heart as PRINCESSOFITHILIEN enters the room.)

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: Ms. Shieldmatron? What is it?

SHIELDMATRON: It’s been six months to the day since Sharpe, POI. It will never really heal.

PRINCESSOFITHILIEN: (reads post) “Onto The Floor And Back Again: A ‘Mir-Swooning Thread By Shieldmatron.” 300 posts. You’ve finished it.

SHIELDMATRON: Not quite. (She logs off and shoves the keyboard over to PRINCESSOFITHILIEN). The mods haven’t locked it yet. There’s still room for a little more.

(FADE to a covered wagon arriving at Bean End, driven by SOLITH_ELF. Several Swooners are standing around looking mournful. SOLITH_ELF smiles out at them.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: (VO) Spacepirate once told me her part in this tale would end, that each of us must come and go in the swooning. Spacepirate and Lady Wenham’s story was now over. Some of us would soon be leaving TORC for good, while others were just beginning. There would be no more Lord of the Swoons entries now, save one.

(A long convoy of faithful Fara-swooners rides slowly ahead of the covered wagon. The sun is starting to set.)

PRINCESSFAZ: Tell me again, lassie…where are we going?

WILMA: To the harbor, PFaz. The Ginger Havens. Your DVDs have accorded you a special honor: a place on the last Mir-brother fantasy to leave Earth.

PRINCESSFAZ: Wilma…is there any chance of seeing that old Faramir action figure of mine again? The one with the red kung-fu hair and cheeky sass-back responses to Denethor?

WILMA: Sorry, old chum. I’m afraid I lost it.

PRINCESSFAZ: Pity. I should like to have mauled it one last time.

(Gulls cry overhead. A Sydney Swan ship is waiting at the harbor. FARAMIR, JOSH, LUKE, and MURRAY WHELAN are standing on the pier looking ancient and ethereal in long white robes. The Swooners dismount and approach the pier.)

PRINCESSFAZ: Oh, well! There’s a sight I’ve never seen before. Four DW characters standing together.

BAB5NUTZ: Obviously you haven’t looked through my wallpaper images recently.

MURRAY: The power of the three Ring movies is ending. The time has come for the Dominion of Australian Telemovies That No One Except sh_wulff Will Ever Get To See.

LISELLE: Well, THAT’s just swell. Now how are we supposed to get our DW fix?

JOSH: Oh, oh…a little to the left….

PRINCESSFAZ: (looking eagerly at Murray’s tie) I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.

(Luke jerks his head at her. She walks onto the ship.)

SHIELDMATRON: Well, we set out to save the Shire….and it has been saved. The York-shire, that is. But only for me. Later, gals.

(SHIELDMATRON boards a smaller ship shaped suspiciously like an Elven funeral boat, with a large nose peeking up above the gunwales. She yanks the starter cord on the 20 horsepower outboard, repels last-minute boarders with an oar, and roars off into the sunset).

LADY_NIWELLA: So, where’s this other ship going? The one with the four DWs?

MAKE_IT_STOP: It is sailing into the Undying Lands of the West. Or the East. We haven’t figured out the best route to Sydney yet.

CRESSIDA: Well, what are we all standing around here for? Let’s go!

(Then everybody smooched Josh, and Luke, and Murray, and last of all Faramir, and went aboard; and the sails were drawn up, and the wind blew; and slowly the ship slipped away down the long gray harbor. And the light of the TV set glimmered and went out. And the ship went on into the High Sea and passed the International Date Line twice, and nobody was quite sure what day it was. Until at last, on a night of rain, the swooners smelt the sweet fragrance of coconut, lembas, and mangos, and heard the sound of filming from over the water. And then it seemed to them that the gray rain-curtain of everyday life was rolled back, and they beheld sexiness, and red hair, and beyond them a fair dinkum country under a swift sunrise.)

(MAKE_IT_STOP logs off from TORC, and closes the browser window with a sigh as her inquisitive workmate comes by with a boring question.)

SHIELDMATRON: (VO) My dear swooners…You cannot always be torn in two. You have so much to do…so many bills to pay, and dishes to wash, and bosses to placate. Your part in this story will go on.

(MAKE_IT_STOP’s co-worker drops a giant binder of boring contracts on her desk.)

MAKE_IT_STOP: Well…I’m back.


CREDITS roll. One by one, pencil sketches of the Swooners appear:

Farawen gulping a bottle of little pink pills
PFaz holding a chicken, gazing tenderly upon the bandaged Luke
LadyStef in a hula skirt on the island of Molokai
SMOR with a quill, feverishly writing fan fiction
Raksha and Cress amid stacks of books, arguing the merits of Tolkien’s characters
sh_wulff spreading a thick layer of Mustard of Rohan on a green horsey shield
POI waving a “Man of the Month” banner and pondering an array of sig pics, all equally delicious
shieldmatron, hypnotized by a Boro-bobble-head, nodding rhythmically
MIS rolling gleefully in a huge pile of dessicated coconut
de_lurker watching DW ride by in spandex on a Tour de France bicycle
bab5nutz’s head on Arwen’s body, with George Bush’s legs
SueB rubbing detergent on Aragorn’s, Eomer’s and Faramir’s muddy shirts
Wimsy staring at Josh, with her eyes bugged out
IthilienRangerette, gazing in awe at the Faz costume from the LOTR exhibit
NimrodelSong, softly illuminated by a glowing Legolas nite-lite
Lady_Niwella, surrounded by boxes from her recent move (with Jim Doyle from “The Bank” helping to unpack them)
Liselle with a birthday cake and swoon-worthy boyfriend
Solith feverishly creating sig pics in her home laboratory
FF2 dropping in for a cup of tea…(hey, where the heck have you been lately?)
Wilma with her arm in a sling, being “healed” by a conscious and smiling Oilamir
lhaewin and Autumnelf worshipping at the Viggo shrine
SingingFox73 with carpet-laying materials and an alarm clock (for keeping those early morning hours)
quillon surrounded by clouds of “Dust”, the cake from BTS, and a wounded, glowering cowboy
Radagast-the-Ruddy, wearing Eric Bana’s helmet from ‘Troy’
Texas-Hobbit, Naz, and ForFrodo, detouring through Osgiliath with Frodo in tow
LadyWenham, with oompah-loompah Gondorsal hair
SpacePirate, perched atop piles of “ROTK” calendars and film guides
Illiaris, beginning archery lessons and signing up for a lifetime membership at Netflix
anuhealani, smiling happily at the Faraclone standing next to her

Song: Into The Hunk-fest sung by Tiny Tim and Bob Dylan

Lay down your sweet and oily head
Faz has fallen….
You’ve come to movie’s end
Press “Stop” now
And dream of the Daves who came before
They are calling
From the video rental store….

Why do you perv?
What are these pics upon your hard drive?
Soon you will see
The rest of the day has passed away,
Safe at your desk,
You’re only swooning….

What can you see
On the Live Journal?
Why do the screencaps call?
Across the ‘Net
A hurt Luke winces…
Daisy has come to carry you off

And all will turn
To AFI awards:
Blue eyes and angst,
And long silver swords…
Into the Hunk-fest...

~ The End ~



But wait!  There's more!  Lord Of The Swoons Extended Edition Commentary >>>>

Home | About | Bio | Links | Interviews | Gallery | Fiction | Movies | FAQs | Humor | Daisy's Sacred Grove