Fandom: Russell Crowe, Lotrips, Lost, Smallville
Rating: R for excessive swearing and really bad jokes
Notes: Because I suck, this is Part 1, Part 2 will be posted by tomorrow morning. I just wanted there to be something here that was vaguely on time. Thanks to llaras for the handholding. queenofalostart - I hope you are more amused than horrified. And "Hi, nice to meet you!"
1. Always Open Mysterious Envelopes Even If You Are Almost Absolutely Certain They are Junk Mail
The following types of envelopes are generally considered to mean trouble:
A. Government and Legal Documents
These often come in manila envelopes, ominous in their simplicity and often contain large qualities of paper, often in triplicate.
B. Love Letters
Often red, occasionally featuring hearts, and sometimes smelling of cheap corner store perfume, these often contain frantically handwritten notes on tear stained stationary, and occasionally contain gifts such as locks of hair, trinkets, and dead rabbits.
C. Ransom notes
Easily detected due to the fact that the receiver's name and address is usually spelled out using pieces of cut up magazine.
The letter that had mysteriously appeared on Regina's doorstep did not fit into any of these categories. In fact, it was downright tacky. The envelope was bright pink and had CONFIDENTIAL stamped on it in large block letters. And then in slighly smaller letters, DATED MATERIAL INSIDE, OPEN IMMEDIATELY, and then in bright red letters (that clashed horribly with the pink of the envelope) DO NOT THROW AWAY, THIS IS NOT JUNK MAIL. REALLY. And under this was a smiley face sticker.
Regina stared at it in awe for a moment, amazed that something so tacky could actually exist, and went to throw it in the waste basket. At the last moment, however, she suddenly wondered if whatever was inside the envelope was as hideous as the outside, so she shrugged and ripped open the envelope.
It contained a single sheet of notebook paper with the following message handwritten in large, clear, vaguely childish looking letters:
You have been chosen for this once in a lifetime offer to save the world.
At no cost to you, you will be receiving the following items shortly:
1. Instructions on tasks needed to be performed in order to ensure the continuing existence of the world.
2. Wigs, suitable for use while spying.
3. A banana, because potassium is important for world saving heroes.
4. Leather pants, because it's just not worth saving the world if you don't do it in style.
If at any time, you are no longer interested in saving the world, you can cancel your subscription and we will all die horribly, no thanks to you.
You will be contacted by one of our representatives shortly.
The letter had no signature; just another smiley face sticker.
Regina rolled her eyes at the letter and put it aside, thinking that later she would figure out which one her friends had sent it and then she forgot all about it.
2. Don’t trust hobbits. They’re little fuckers
A few days later Regina was on her way home and came across Russell Crowe leaning against a large white van and smoking a cigarette. This was not a normal occurrence in her life.
“You get the letter?” he asked throwing the cigarette to the concrete.
“The letter about how we need you to save the world. Don't tell me they forgot to send it!”
“Oh! That. It was kind of weird. I just thought it was a joke.”
“Fucking hobbits,” Crowe muttered.
“Never trust a fucking hobbit!” he complained.
“The letter was written by hobbits?” Regina asked, trying her best to humor the apparently insane actor.
“No. Listen. We had a meeting and we were talking about outreach and how we needed someone to get in touch with the new recruits and the hobbits said that they knew the perfect person. We should have taken the insane giggles as a clue that they were up to no good. ‘Get Orlando do it!’ they said. ‘He’s good at stuff like that,’ they said, ‘He even has his own stationary.’ Fucking fuckers.”
“Not to sound cliché or anything, but dude, what the fuck is going on here?” Regina said, losing her patience just a little bit.
3. Never ever take candy or accept rides from strangers unless the stranger’s name is Russell Crowe
“Oh. Right. Sorry. I represent a group of concerned actors bent on protecting the fabric of reality and ensuring the continuing existence of the world. Gum?”
“Thanks,” Regina said, taking a piece of gum, “But what exactly does this have to do with me?”
“Get in the van and I’ll take you to headquarters and explain everything.”
When faced with the option of getting into a mysterious van with a possibly deranged Russell Crowe, there is really only one choice. Regina quickly opened the passenger door and got inside.
“So here’s the story,” Russell Crowe began as they drove away, “Well, actually I don’t really understand most of what goes on, and honestly, I think those fuckers are probably just making most of it up as they go along. Mostly I just punch people who I’m supposed to punch and the fabric of reality doesn’t unravel and strangle us all. Got it?”
They pulled into an inconspicuous building and took an elevator down deep underground.
“It’s complicated, love. Okay, confession. I have this speech I’m supposed to give. It’s beautiful, Oscar worthy, it would move you to tears and explain everything perfectly, but I forgot it. Sorry. I’ll let my partner explain everything to you.”
“I’m really going to regret asking this, but who’s your partner, an elf?”
“It’s funny you should say that,” Crowe said as the elevator doors opened, “Bloom! Where the fuck are you?”
4. Never Get In A Battle of Wits with Orlando Bloom When Death is On The Line
“Orlando Bloom is in charge of explaining to people how to save the fabric of existence! Are you fucking insane?”
“Yeah, makes you wonder how anyone can sleep at night, doesn’t it?” Crowe smirked and then his face got very serious, “Listen, love, here’s a bit of advice, just nod and smile when Orlando explains things to you. Don’t try to argue with him no matter how little sense he makes. It’s never pretty. You just can’t argue with the little fuck. Little know fact about Orlando Bloom: when the Scientologist fuckers tried to get to him, the poor man they had test him left the room gibbering. No one knows how the fucker did it. Nod and smile, love, and then we can get to the good part.”
“Good part?” Regina asked.
“The drinking and the punching,” Crowe responded with a wink.
They walked down a dark corridor and Crowe opened a door into a spacious but messy office.
“Bloom! Get the fuck out here!”
“Rusty!” A voice shouted and then a blur threw itself at him.
“Get off of me, Bloom! You need to give your explanation. Sorry, he’s not house trained or anything trained for that matter.”
“Can’t do the explanation. I lost my balls.” Bloom said, still attached to Crowe.
Both Crowe and Regina snickered.
“You know the balls I use to do the fabric of reality demonstration,” Bloom said, ignoring the snickering.
“Improvise. We don’t have much time,” Crowe ordered.
“Fine, but it’s just not the same without my balls.”
Crowe and Regina snickered again.
“Okay, pretend that Rusty is the universe,” Bloom began.
“Why do I have to participate?” Crowe protested.
“Well, if I can’t play with my balls then I guess I have to play with you,” Bloom said.
Regina and Crowe stared at him.
“Yeah, snicker at that bitches. Anyway, Crowe here is the universe and in order for the universe to be healthy all the parts of him have to be healthy, right? Except often things that are wrong aren’t visible on the surface, so we have special people who can open him up and remove the problem, got it?”
“That was almost coherent!” Regina said, surprised.
“Except,” Bloom continued, “The universe is nothing like Rusty, it’s like a fucking ball! Or like those little doll thingies where there is one large one and then a smaller one inside that and a smaller one inside that and a smaller one inside that and if there’s an imperfection in one of the smaller dolls, then the whole thing doesn’t fit together right.”
“So, I’m supposed to fix whatever this imperfection is so that the Russian Dolls that make up the universe fit together properly?” Regina asked.
“Exactly!” Bloom beamed.
“Wait, so where do your balls fit into this?” she asked confused.
Crowe snickered and Regina hit him.
“Nevermind,” she sighed, “so what exactly is this imperfection I’m supposed to be getting rid of?”
“Clark Kent and Lana Lang,” Crowe said while rubbing his arm, “That hurt!”
“But they’re not real people, how am I supposed to get rid of them?” Regina protested.
“They may not be real here, but they are real in another doll,” Orlando explained.
“But wouldn’t that mean that there’s another even larger doll filled with people that don’t think we’re real. And then there would have to be an even larger doll outside of that one, and the dolls would keep on going on forever and there wouldn’t be any room for anything,” Regina protested, not quite certain that the doll explanation of the universe really worked.
“What did I say? Nod and smile, love. Nod and smile,” Crowe whispered urgently.
“But how do I even get into the smaller dolls!” she protested.
“That’s Rusty’s department. He’ll show you the way,” Bloom said, “It was nice to meet you, but I’ve got to go find the hobbits and make them give me my balls back.”
“No we’re at the fun part,” Crowe said with a grin.
5. Drinking really does solve all problems
“The best way to hop from doll to doll, and that, by the way, is the stupidest fucking metaphor I’ve ever heard, is to drink a lot, and then you pass out, and then you wake up where you need to be,” Crowe explained.
“That’s it?” Regina asked skeptically.
“Then how come everyone doesn’t wake up in a different reality every time they drink and pass out?”
“How do you know they don’t?” Crowe asked.
“I think I need a drink!”
“Can I ask a couple questions?”
“The letter said I was going to get supplies to help me."
“Oh yeah. That. Budget cuts. Sorry.”
“So no leather pants?” Regina asked sadly.
“No leather pants.”
“What exactly is this place called, anyway?”
Crowe looked uncomfortable and explained, “That’s actually kind of a sad story. When we started, we were all dead set on having a brilliant acronym for our name; we even made an acronym committee. Except they became obsessed with coming up with the perfect acronym and they all got crazier and crazier. I still sometimes see them wandering around the halls muttering nonsense words to themselves. Sad. Fucking hobbits.”
“It was the hobbits’ fault?”
“Everything is ultimately their fault.”
“But… you know what, never mind, let’s drink!” Regina said giving up on understanding what was going on.
“Cheers!” Crowe said pulling out a silver flask, taking a sip, and passing it on to her.
“Cheers!” Regina said, taking the flask and taking a large gulp.
6. Wedding attire is always appropriate for any world saving type activities
Regina woke up buried in a pile of wedding dressed and heard a voice shout, “Boone! There’s a girl passed out in the wedding dress samples, what should I do?”