What has its got in its pocketses, asked

What has its got in its pocketses, asked Gollum. Nothing, answered the Hobbit. I am just happy to see you. Sorry, Gollum replied, I don't swing that way. Despondent, Bilbo

removed a dildo. It was carved out of an Ent and glowed with magic. Harry Potter was watching from the closet through a crack. Then Bilbo squeezed a dollop of lube on the end

and nodded to Gollum to hoid the precious a little tighter. Potter's glasses glimmered through the crack in the closet doorway. Bilbo had never seen a Wizard without a beard, so

Bilbo used Sting to gouge out the eyes of the wizardling. They were scooped up by Gollum as tasty snacks. Harry yelped in pain, his glasses falling aside as blood poured from

ears as Sting began yet another chorus of Roxanne. Harry dragged himself back, desperately mumbling the spell that would

move was critical. He didn't fully understand how he was making songs come to life. Checking into the Hotel California or setting the roof, the roof, the roof on fire could be

extremely dangerous so he'd have to be careful not to recite those particular verses. Unintended side effects of the new-found super power led him to recall Sir Mix-A-Lot silently

and without rhythm of any sort. "Mix the flour, roll the dough!" his nascent superpowers whispered. He tried to shake them out of his brain, but the words swelled. "My Anaconda

is yeasty, but my Jacaranda is misty." A thousand years later, in various strip mall temples scattered among the local stars, young students would puzzle over the meaning of this.