The Corruption and Degredation of Mary Sue

Chapter 31: Our Sue Struggles Ever Towards her Doom


Legolas was slumped glumly at the bottom of a pine tree facing Aragorn, lying on the grass under the shade of another massive pine. From his angle he had full view of Elrond’s exotic blooms with only his garden shed marring the landscape.

“I probably should have kept quiet this morning, shouldn’t I,” mumbled Legolas. Aragorn rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but there you go. You’re blonde. I forgive you,” replied Aragorn.

“Oh shut up. And now there’s TWO of them and she probably hates me for trying to get her into trouble…” Legolas sighed.

“Will you stop whining?” pleaded Aragorn. This was getting tiresome. He let his gaze wander and noticed Maglor casually strolling across the lawns. He looked around briefly, then opened the door to the shed and vanished into it, closing the door firmly behind him. Aragorn raised a suspicious eyebrow, but thought nothing more of it as the elf continued to whine about his possible existence without Kalina.

“What I wouldn’t give right now to be strapped face down onto her bed and have her ramming me from behind with that massive studded strap-on she has…” Legolas sighed again.

“That’s just what I keep telling you. Can you see either of those two licking Kalina’s boots and begging for the privilege of being pissed on?” tried Aragorn. Legolas looked at him disdainfully, before explaining to the human that despite the fact he found being abused and humiliated by his mistress one of the most orgasmic experiences ever to be encountered, water-sports was never on the menu nor did he have any interest going down that line of experimentation. Aragorn only vaguely took this in, more interested in why Glorfindel would be casually walking around the garden from the kitchen with a large bowl of whipped cream under his arm.

“Yes, but that’s just IT,” said Aragorn, realising the elf was waiting for a response and happier with Legolas not knowing about the close proximity of the source of all this distress. “There aren’t that many people about who seem to keep her entertained and pleased as much as you do. I somehow doubt a hedonist like that is going to let you out of her talons quite so easily. I keep telling you. It’s only a matter of time before Kalina will want to take charge of the situation. And furthermore, has it crossed your mind that maybe THEY aren’t really interested in any long term thing with Kalina, that maybe they’re just getting off on the fact that they’re carrying out some perverse fantasy and once they’ve lived that they’ll move onto something else?”

Legolas scowled at him. “Are we both talking about Kalina here? Double jointed, depraved, gorgeous, domineering…”

“Okay, fair enough,” said Aragorn, conceding there was in all fairness a reasonable chance that even elves as old as Glorfindel and Maglor would ever get entirely bored of someone as charmingly perverted as Kalina. “But I somehow doubt she’d really go for that. In her eyes it would be tampering with primary sources.”

Legolas looked at the ranger, terribly confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Kalina. You know how into her history she is,” said Aragorn. Legolas nodded. It was true, Kalina spent a surprising amount of time reading and discussing history and historic documents with her father and Bilbo. “Well there you go. Glorfindel and Maglor are ancient. They’ve seen and done all sorts of things. And that’s what she’ll see in them. Now if you just apologise and somehow manage to get her attention, everything should be fine,” Aragorn said confidently. No sooner had he finished his sentence did he see Kalina absently meander by in the distance, trying to wend her way indirectly towards the garden shed. As soon as she approached it, the door opened and two sets of arms reached out and bodily hoisted her in, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

“How the fuck am I going to get her attention though? Maglor has just turned up. Fucking MAGLOR!!” Legolas sighed wistfully at the thought of the seductively melancholic expression he habitually wore. ‘Eru crack-smoking Ilúvatar, he’s so fucking hot’ thought the prince, tilting his head dreamily to one side.

“I don’t know… what turns Kalina on? I mean especially. Doesn’t she habitually drag out away and try to rape you after you’ve been in a battle and you’re all filthy and battered?” suggested Aragorn. Legolas, roused from his perverse reverie, raised a hopeful eyebrow.

“That’s a point… where is she now anyway?” asked Legolas, looking around hopefully.

Aragorn looked towards the shed, which had started to shake slightly. There was the odd clatter of some garden implement falling over or being roughly moved out of the way. Other than that, there was no sign of anyone else outdoors.

“Erm… I have no idea,” Aragorn lied.

“Well, let me know if you spot her,” said Legolas. He was starting to feel a little more optimistic about all this, his back turned to the juddering garden shed, which was probably for the best right now.

Celebelen was feeling hungry, sore, and shaky. Her supply of crack had run out a day and a half ago and it was all shuld uld do to crawl along some path she had found, hopeful it would bring her to civilisation of some sort.

Streaked with filth, Celebelen used a low-hanging tree to hoist herself to her feet and stagger along the path. A slight acrid smell began to fill her nostrils.

“Smoke?” she mumbled to herself, wondering if it was real or just another strange hallucination of sorts. She began to stumble along the path, finding the smell grew stronger with each step. There was a bend up ahead and Celebelen swore she could hear voices. Her step began to quicken. She hadn’t seen another face in weeks and was desperate for a way out of this lethal yet stunning scenery.

“HELLOOO?” called out Celebelen as soon as she had turned the corner. She had arrived at what was a small valley filled with a large camp of hideous creatures who stared at her in a mixture of confusion, contempt, and bloodlust. “EEW! WHAT ARE YOU?!” she shrieked as three orcish guards rushed up to her and grabbed her arms and began dragging her through the howls and jeers of the camp towards the centre. Then it suddenly dawned on her crack-ridden brain. These were orcs. Rather large ones at that. “Oh my god! You’re ORCS!!”

The guards stopped and stared at her in mild confusion. Humans didn’t behave like this. It wasn’t normal. They didn’t suddenly have revelations like this.

“Of course we’re orcs, stupid human!” snarled the first.

“What the fuck did you think we were?” growled his companion.

“I’m new here,” said Celebelen pathetically. Then something caught her attention. A friendly familiar smell arose from the general stench of the orc camp. Her head snapped around (but alas, didn’t snap off) and she spotted an astoundingly ugly (even by orc standards) creature putting a crack-pipe to his lips. She suddenly lunged away from her guards and towards the smell of the drug. “GIVE ME THAT!!” she snarled.

Disconcerted by the bedraggled human’s aggression, the orc shunted backwards, relinquishing the pipe. Nobody else moved as Celebelen put the pipes to her lips and inhaled deeply. “That’s soooo much better,” she gasped after exhaling. Beaming stupidly at the guards who were leaning on their pikes and staring at her, Celebelen got to her feet. “So what are you going to do to me?” she asked.

“Let the leaders decide,” said the first of her captors, grabbing her shoulder roughly and pushing her towards a large tent towards the back of the camp. She was roughly escorted inside and ruthlessly dropped to the ground. The two orcs knelt before the two men, a particularly brutal looking uruk-hai, and a menacing black shrouded figure. “We caught an intruder,” announced the first while the second grunted in conjunction with the statement.

“So I see,” said the tall bearded man. Celebelen looked up at him and in her stoned state began to giggle.

“You look like Osama bin Laden,” she cackled.

“That, child, is because I am Osama bin Laden,” replied the cleric softly. Celebelen stopped laughing as fear gripped
her. She looked to the left of him and recognised the Iraqi leader beside Osama and started to shake. Television and current events class had taught her that before her stood two of the most evil men to ever walk the earth (at least from Fox News’s point of view). “You two. Leave us,” ordered bin Laden. The orcs heeded him swiftly and departed. “So, child… you sound like an American infidel. What is your name?”

“Celebelen,” she muttered defensively. Bin Laden snorted.

“That does not sound like one of the names your kind have. What is your real name,” he demanded. Celebelen gulped nervously.

“Tallulah. Tallulah B. Johnson,” she replied quietly.

“Hmph. More unpronounceable western gibberish and you share the name of one of your former godless leaders,” noted bin Laden. Celebelen, who was useless at history and rather wasted stared blankly at him.

“What shall we do with her?” demanded Saddam, eyeing her cautiously.

“Give her to us. You already have the elf,” rumbled the orc.

“What good is a human to your lot?” hissed the shrouded figure.

“We need entertainment. We haven’t killed anything except a few upstarts starting trouble in over a week,” retorted the uruk.

“Lurtz does have a point,” conceded bin Laden. “If this placates the troops then that will be of a benefit to us.” He had very quickly realised that the orcs he had been provided with were fearsome fighters but converting them to Islam wasn’t really a priority right now and would take far too much time and effort. “You contend with her. Meanwhile I must return to the elf. Allilliilling, I will break him to our will by this evening, perhaps tomorrow dawn at latest.” With that, Osama departed.

Lurtz strode over to the human and pulled her to her feet. Glaring at her, his nostrils flared. “So. You’ve developed a liking of orcish crack?” An unwholesome yellow grin broke out on his face.

“CRACK? I’VE BEEN SMOKING CRACK?!” screamed Celebelen, astounded at the revelation. Then she calmed down. Hey, maybe hard drugs weren’t that bad after all. What did the FDA know? They probably never even tried the stuff. “Can you get me more?” she pleaded. Lurtz sneered at her.

“We’ll see,” he muttered, dragging her out. As far as orcs went, Lurtz’s ruthless brutality and stamina were coupled with a surprisingly cunning intellect, setting him aside from his brethren and granting him higher status in this military operation. “Tell me. Have you pole-danced?” demanded Lurtz, before pushing the human out of the door.

“I’ve done some cheerleading, does that count?”

“I don’t know what that means. Will it entertain us?” demanded Lurtz. Celebelen shrugged nervously.