war of the dwarves and elves!

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After brushing off the ineffectual arrows, I chortle: "Squid-skinned--I like that, even though I never met a cephalopod with hair." And now....

Once an Elf had an idea. He had no idea what an idea was, so he hung it up in an archery field for target practice. It took him sixty-two shots to hit it, at eight paces' range, even though it was a big idea. But all of his friends benefitted by watching him, because he at least was fitting arrows to the string in the right direction. The other sissy Elves in his sissy gang had been trying to nock the head end and shoot the arrow feathered end first. But some of them still needed more coaching even after they figured out the nocking part, because they were confused about right and left hands, and often put both hands on the string with no hand holding the bowstave.

This whole time, a Dwarf was taking a nap ON the target line of the Elves' archery field. By the time they had improved their aim enough that he might have been in any danger, he had awakened, stood up, strolled over to their sissy tents, and left a cookbook for them: "Two Hundred Dishes Using Cram."
 
I hope you do realize that because I know your little narrative is the exact opposite of true that I could care less? *yawns* and now you just wasted that time of your life when you could be coming up with contradictions for us.
And you used fallacious reasoning.

*throws snowball at Tirian*
 
Not nearly as fallacious as the reasoning of sissy Elves thinking THEY could say WE poisoned our own meat!


~ ~ Unleashes a chemical weapon upon the Menoa tree, which doesn't kill it, but which causes its branches to bear loaves of cram as fruit
 
A flying beard, like a catcher's mitt, catches the snowball in mid-flight and throws it back at Mozart.


I didn't say that you were the particular Elf who said we poisoned our own meat, but an Elf did say it. Calling us "twig-armed" is a delusional denial of our massive muscles; we are "impolite" only by sissy-Elf standards; calling us "self-important" or "stuck-up" is projecting your own conceitedness onto us; if we were "uneducated," you wouldn't be so anxious to have your kittens steal our technology; and as for "unmusical," WE'RE the ones who have the great battle songs!
 
Copperfox said:
If we were "uneducated," you wouldn't be so anxious to have your kittens steal our technology; and as for "unmusical," WE'RE the ones who have the great battle songs![/FONT]
Click to expand...

1. In real life, technology and true education don't necessarily have anything in common. As far as Middle-Earth goes...Dwarves have a very distorted view of history that remains unchanged, technology or no.

2. You may be able to write great battle songs (although by Elf-standards they're lacking), but that doesn't mean you can sing on key! *sidenote* Did you know that--the last I heard, anyway--singing off-key is a crime in North Carolina? It's a good thing the cops don't arrest people for that...or Dwarves...

*baby Elf covers flying beards with smelly goop that makes the Dwarves faint whenever they attempt to use the beards*
 
The Dwarves just grow new beards, no big deal.

Sissy Elves are falling down, falling down, falling down,
Sissy Elves are falling down, my lame fairy!
 
Why don't we taunt the Dwarves about not being true children of Eru, just adopted, unlike us Firstborn Elves?
Na, na, na na, na! *Sticks out tongue*
 
Harrumph!! Your status as Elves was handed to you by no doing of yours; but we have accomplishments which are OUR OWN accomplishments! This includes our new Hyper-Swift Menoa-Tree Uprooter-And-Replanter. Just watch: it will move in too fast for you to see, completely uproot your Menoa Tree, then put it back and replace the soil around its roots before it has time to suffer any harm from the uprooting, and everything will APPEAR as if the Menoa Tree never really was uprooted! Ready to see it in action?--There, want to see it again?
 
It was too fast to see so I didn't see it in the first place, but even if I could see it I wouldn't want to see it again.
 
The environmentalists are coming at the slightest hint of Tree Trauma...and they are at least as persistent as you Dwarves, if not more. *baby Elf blows a razzberry at Dwarves*
 
But they have no evidence to bring against us....though I grant you that an absence of evidence never stops enviro-lunatics from believing whatever they want to believe.


Dwarves now retaliate at the Elf-baby with a massed infrasonic belch which rolls the baby three miles away; then a far stronger belch-volley is directed at the green activists, transporting them to the Dead Marshes. (They should like it there, since they're so in love with wetlands.)
 
Children's rights activists sue the Dwarves for all they're worth and award ownership of the Dwarves' caves, mines, tunnels, tools, etc. to be poor baby Elf. *baby Elf gurgles happily*
 
The Dwarves win their appeal, however, with court costs imposed on the activists. This is done by pointing out the indefinite lifespans of Elves, meaning that the Elf baby is probably at least fifty years old (cf. the Baby Herman character in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"), and thus not properly a minor. When the sissy activists try to argue that infancy is no longer for Elves than for Humans, the Dwarves demolish all the activists' little putt-putt minicars, then reclaim all their property. On the way out, they give the Elf-brat a well-deserved spanking. (Whatcha gonna do about it, declare war on us?)
 
We already DID declare war apperently. Or actually you dwarves probably did in the first place.
hmmm..... *catapults toast at the dwarves* ya so what if it does any good? its funny.:D
 
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