Note to self: If I ever, ever feel like writing fan fic ever again, consider the saga of Spanky, the wombat Ringwraith,* and his very short Fellbeast, Stumpy.

(It started with wombats wandering into Tolkien–“Lord Elrond, the wombats inform me that they would like mining rights to the area under Rivendell…” –and that wombats would have encased all the rings in iron ingots to avoid accidents, and…well…these things happen. I blame Graydon. He totally egged me on. God, I’m such a loser geek.)

*It was his parents’ fault, really. It’d never have happened if he’d had a proper wombat work ethic instilled, but his father always had been one to only recheck his figures twice…

In fairness, he wrote home like a good boy every week. For six thousand years. Actually, that got a little disturbing, but y’know, he’s family…