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09-02-2005, 07:00 PM | #1 |
Laconic Loreman
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A thread all to Gothmog.
A thought that came to me, inspired by Enca, and now I finally decided to do it. How about we make a thread to Gothmog (not the nazgul) but the Pink, gimp, bubbly guy.
Anyway, the point of this thread is to first see how many downers out there appreciate Mr. Gimp and then to delve into theories of what the heck happened to this....thing? How did he get the way he was? Ok, so, my own personal belief, and what I've always said is Gothmog was smacked with a waffler a couple times. Makes sense, I think? There may have been a toaster thrown at him a couple times too, but I'm not sure. So, what interesting theories can you come up with on how Gothmog got so....Gothmoggish? Either this is the most brilliant idea I've ever come up with, or the dumbest, only time will tell.
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09-02-2005, 07:21 PM | #2 |
Dead Serious
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It's hilarious, whatever else it may be as an idea...
Personally, as a not-fan of the bubbly Gothmog, I must say that finding a suitably messed-up explanation of his messed-up-ness is not a task I mind in the least. So, my idea: Gothmog began his career in the Mordorian armies as a Grade II Snaga posted to Nurnen, which, as we all know, was the bread basket of Mordor, and thus full of lush foods unable to be found elsewhere. SnagaMog soon developed a taste for the abundant food- a big no-no in the Mordorian Ranks. When found out, as he soon was, weighing, as he did, twenty pounds more than the next ork (a runt by the name of Grishnakh, incidentally), he was sentenced to a the nasty task of running an important message from Fort Schnuckalls to Fort Albadork- which took him right through rockslide country in mating season (rockslide mating, not Ork-mating. As everybody knows, Orks come in one gender). It was during this trek that SnagaMog became adept at boulder-dodging, a talent that was to serve him well during the Siege of Gondor. A pity that he didn't learn Rohirrim-dodging while he was at it. In any event, SnagaMog reached Fort Albadork completely unscathed, to the fury of his superiors. In retribution, he was sent through another "avalanche", but this time he had to run the gamut of Fort Albadork's walls, while his comrades through "ork-made" boulders at him. These boulders were not rocks, but the most bizarre collection of ork-made boulders Mordor had ever seen. Jagged, sharp, oblong, and heavy, SnagaMog was unable to dodge these, thrown and aimed as they were by living and breathing, if not exactly intelligent, orks. Obviously, he survived, and to spite his officers he worked his way up through the ranks, ultimately becoming THEIR superior, and exacting his revenge by putting them on the front lines against any sort of Good-Guy charge- a task of near-certain death. He never lost his love of food, and so his scarred face became even more disfigured as folds of fat closed in around the portions of his scars that were still sewn to his skull.
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09-02-2005, 08:50 PM | #3 |
Sword of Spirit
Join Date: Aug 2003
Location: Oh, I'm around.
Posts: 1,401
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How Gothmog became himself.
Well, once upon a time there was this orc. And this orc was named Morgan. But only his best friend knew he even had a name. He and his best friend were inseperable. But then one day they were out in the hills when an earthquake hit. The two little orcs were very terrified and didn't know what to do.... (Continued later; sorry, got to run. )
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09-03-2005, 04:06 AM | #4 |
Shadowed Prince
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: Thulcandra
Posts: 2,343
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I always imagined he was born that way. After all, anybody not aesthetically pleasing has just got to be evil, and he's the least aesthetically pleasing bloke in Middle-Earth.
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09-03-2005, 12:50 PM | #5 |
Shadow of the Past
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Minas Mor-go
Posts: 1,007
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There was obviously an ulterior motive for Gothmog to co-lead the attack on Minas Tirith. He was looking for a good plastic surgeon to get rid of the whatever was covering his head. All the ones in Mordor are the lazy sort who leave surgical tools inside you and end up on the news for malpractice.
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09-03-2005, 01:06 PM | #6 |
Pilgrim Soul
Join Date: May 2004
Location: watching the wonga-wonga birds circle...
Posts: 9,458
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Gothmog was an opposition leader in the Ukraine............
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09-03-2005, 01:10 PM | #7 |
Energetic Essence
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One morning, Gothmog was ironing his best suit (he had an interview with Sauron that afternoon for a job placement to lead the army to the assault on Minas Tirith) when the phone rang. And, instead of picking up the phone, he picked up the iron and slamed it into his face, thinking it was the phone. Poor,poor (stupid) Gothmog.
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09-03-2005, 07:54 PM | #8 |
Drummer in the Deep
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: Next Sunday A.D.
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I personally think that Sauron wanted him killed, so he sent ol' Goth to Gondor on the front lines. He's too ugly even for Mordor.
(Who knows...maybe the denizens of the Black Land had something called "What do you assign to Gondor?" and Gothy was at the top of everyone's list, after their orken parents of course. )
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But all the while I sit and think of times there were before
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door Last edited by Oddwen; 09-03-2005 at 07:59 PM. Reason: Explatifying |
09-04-2005, 08:34 AM | #9 |
Shade of Carn Dûm
Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: In the warm bosom of a Warg
Posts: 378
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Great idea for a thread, boromir88. Now, my little theory:
Grigori Theodore Mothwell was born into an affluent Gondorian family around about 2830. He enjoyed the finest in all aspects of life: he ate the most delectable caviar with solid silver cutlery at all the best society dinners and no wine less than 25 years old would touch his lips. Grigori was born lucky, heir to the Mothwell estate and general playboy. The ladies loved him. He had a string of Gondorian 'it-girls' for acquaintances, but never anyone serious. Outwardly, G.T. Mothwell had it all. Inside, things were different. Grigori's bad habits began at around 16. On an evening stroll around town he took a wrong turn and ended up in a dark, strange alley. He carried on down, drawn by the noises he could hear at the bottom of the street. He reached the end and there was a large door, slightly ajar, through which he could hear screams of pain, and the roar of the crowd. He peeked in, and there he saw the finest spectacle he had ever beheld: weasel fighting. G.T. fell in love immediately, and over the next few years he returned, making friends and enemies as he bet high and won big. When Grigori was 18, though, he would do something that would lead to this Gondorian society icon's downfall. It was on his 18th birthday that Grigori would do what he had longed to do for alnmost 2 years: wrestle weasels. As the bag was held above his head he prepared himself, and as 12 screaming weasels fell upon him he became a machine. He killed every weasel in 15 seconds- a new Minas Tirith record! Things kept getting better for G.T.. Weasels were followed by stoats, who were succeeded by pine martins. It seemed that no bagful of small creatures could overcome Gondorian weasel wrestling's golden boy. But inside, Grigori T. Mothwell wanted more. The wine, the women, the money- they were all just passing pleasures. Grigori yearned for a bigger challenge: a challenge no woman could ever satisfy. He was not disappointed. It was on the last day of 2900 that Grigori would finally meet his match: a tag team of badgers. The match started well, but soon the badgers got out of control. Refusing to tag, they double-teamed G.T. and soon took advantage. One referee tried to stop the heinousity- he went home in a body-bag. Finally the badgers stopped the carnage, but Grigori Theodore Mothwell would never be the same again. Grigori Theodore was horribly scarred and disfigured. He fled Gondor and kept going long after he knew was safe. Finally he was discovered, but by a band of orc raiders. They imprisoned him and returned him to Minas Morgul. There Grigori served many purposes, some less savoury than others. The orcs came to call him 'Gothmog', their lazy elocution evident. Slowly but surely, Gothmog ascended through the ranks, using the skills he had learned in the weasel pits of Minas Tirith to good use in the political back alleys of Minas Morgul. Of course, we all know where the story ends up: Gothmog ascended to the heady heights of lieutenant of Minas Morgul. Eventually he would march upon Minas Tirith, and in some way have his revenge. However, legend still says that on a still night in the Morgul Vale, the wail of Gothmog can be heard, searching as he does for those thrice-cursed badgers.
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09-04-2005, 06:41 PM | #10 |
Psyche of Prince Immortal
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Gothmog did march to war as he wanted too, but he didn't want to leave behind the women of his love, an entwife he met in the lake south of Mordor when he was stationed there...
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09-05-2005, 02:56 PM | #11 |
Shade of Carn Dûm
Join Date: Mar 2003
Location: Hold on...let me consult this broken compass...
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pink, gimp, bubbly + tree = ??????
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09-05-2005, 03:41 PM | #12 | |
Psyche of Prince Immortal
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Quote:
that would equal one wild party last night
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09-06-2005, 01:18 PM | #13 |
Auspicious Wraith
Join Date: May 2002
Location: The Netherlands
Posts: 4,859
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The farmer who owned him accidentally sprayed his food with plutonium.
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Los Ingobernables de Harlond Last edited by Eomer of the Rohirrim; 09-06-2005 at 01:19 PM. Reason: Badgers did it to me. |
09-06-2005, 05:48 PM | #14 |
Shade of Carn Dûm
Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: In the warm bosom of a Warg
Posts: 378
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On your edit, Eomer: that's what Gothmog said.
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