Heh
December 26th, year 3018 of the Third Age
King of Mirkwood,
Though I had to scrub my eyeballs with lye to get rid of the images you planted in my brain, I want you to know that I bear you no ill will. To prove how high I hold you in my esteem, I have sent your son off on a very important mission. To Mount Doom. With a Dwarf.
Sleep well.
Yours truly,
Lord Elrond of Imladris
Read the rest: The Last Elf Standing
*tee hee*