Lord of the [Pastry] Rings


Friday, August 10th, 2012

The last time I watched Lord of the Rings, I noticed something:  Those guys all have ridiculous names.  Not one dude in Lord of the Rings is named Steve.  No one is even named the somewhat more fantasy-centric ‘Stevantil.’  No.  Everyone and everything has a crazy surname.  Aargorn isn’t just Aaragorn. He’s Aaragorn, son of Aarathorn, heir to the Throne of Gondor, Last of the Dunedien, Eater of Stew.  Gandalf is Gandalf Graymane, Gandalf the White, and a bunch of other stuff.  But never the less formal ‘G.’  Places have those kind of crazy names,  as do swords. It can’t just be a bit of metal with a pointy end. There’s a Sting, and a Glamdring and probably a Spatula.  Tolkien took the time to write a backstory for every bit of extra name though, so perhaps he was on to something.
Let’s try it.
The forging of the one [pastry] of Donuduur began long ago in the Fiery Lake of Oilonus.*  There it was tempered by the Men of the Brown Apron’s, who fashioned The Glazed Ring of Dunkindine.  It was then cooled under the Glazed Falls of Shugaar Canus, which left a shiny glint that reflected the lights.  The one ring was then kept in a Great Box, wreathed in Orange and rivers of purple, which then carried the donuts to their altar in the First Great Hall of Dining in Digitus Dominus, where the Great Men of Illusion create and shape worlds beyond the worlds which we see.**
See?  Now it’s not just a donut. It’s an Epic Donut forged by great men of the Oil Fjords.  It represents two things – the pinnacle of human existence as we know it being the predominant one.  The second, even awesomey-er one is Breakfast.
Enjoy!
*Please do not forge anything in the office.  I know we have Furnace and Tender here, that doesn’t mean you should use them for what you are thinking you should use them for.
**Please do not cast your donut into oil lakes or fires.  Leave that to professionals, elves, hobbits, immortals, and other fictional folk who will suffer only flesh wounds.

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