“Welcome to the 2006 Elven Fashion Show. I’m your host for the next few minutes, or until everyone drools and swoons so much that this place becomes a hazard,” says Zhie, standing off to the side of the stage and holding a microphone. “Tonight, we have some great fashions to show you. To kick it off, we have the King himself baby, and he’s all shook up – give it up for Thranduil, King of Mirkwood!”

Thranduil walks onto the stage, tight jeans on, with a guitar. He struts down the runway like a pro as he plays a few chords, tilting his head at all the right times, and looking like a lion on the prowl.

“Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, and sadly, the king has left the building – but next on our list, a classic favorite. Welcome to the stage – Haldir of Lorien!”

Haldir, recovered from the paper bag incident, has on brown leather leggings that are so extremely tight there is no doubt to seeing every curve of every.. thing.

“Haldir, I’ve been told that you’re hot,” says Zhie from the side of the stage.

“I am.. very hot..” he purrs, and grabbing hold of the strategically placed water bottle, he sips from it, then tilts his head back and pours the rest down his chest. The water flows down his body as he lifts the rest up over his head, drenching himself.

As he walks back, many audience members begin to fan themselves rapidly.

"And next... oh, my! It seems Exotic Erestor has borrowed out his cowboy hat. Our next pair has titled their display 'Brokeback Fountain'." Ecthelion and Turgon saunter onto stage, wearing black leather thongs, bandanas around their necks, and matching cowboy hats. "You've all heard it before, but I have to say it again: Save a horse, ride and Elf-lord!"

Turgon grins and gives Ecthelion a hard smack on the ass just before they turn to walk back down the runway.

“Now, we present to you ‘The Butt Pirate of the Cum’n’semen’, our very own Legolas Greenleaf!” Onto the stage sashays Legolas, with a dark cape flowing behind him. His loincloth is riding low on his hips, daring to fall off at any moment. Perched on his head is a lovely hat with fluffy feather plumes. “Groan if you must – and, please, do groan if you must,” adds Zhie to Legolas, “but I have to ask – Where’s the ‘bum’ gone?”

With a cheeky grin, Legolas turns around and swipes his cape to the side and over his shoulder, revealing his revealed ass – for his loincloth was riding REALLY much lower than it seemed to be.

“Our next couple will be wowing you with their latest interpretive dance routine titled – Mission Style: Impossible!”

The lights dim and onto the runway walks Galadriel, wearing a very slinky, see-through sheer silk robe, beneath which, she is covered by even less, but in all the right places. Soon she is joined by Celeborn, whose tight suede leggings leave so very little to the imagination.

As the techno music plays and the colored lights flash, the pair dance onstage, twisting and touching one another sensually, and while demonstrating many an intriguing position, including some which were banned from the Kama Sutra, never once do they manage a typical mission position.

“Thank you, lord and lady of Lorien,” says Zhie with a low whistle. “I regret to tell you we are coming – or is that cuming? – to a close this evening with our final duo. Oh, as if there was ever a doubt in anyone’s mind – here they are, Rivendell’s finest! Be advised – you may want to grab a towel.”

Glorfindel and Erestor emerge, each of them wearing only a tight thong, with their hair loose. A slow, sensuous jazz piece fills the air, and as if the audience is either not watching them or is of no consequence, they begin an erotic dance. At no time do they stop touching one another, fingers caressing while legs twine before they twist away, and back, near, and then oh, so close again.

The tension builds as Glorfindel closes their gap more and more, each time with greater need. Erestor becomes limp in his lover’s arms, allowing himself to be manipulated to the dance, the rhythm, the beat, that courses through them.

It crescendos with the pair locked in an embrace, Erestor’s leg wrapped around Glorfindel’s waist, toes pointed to the floor. Glorfindel, holding Erestor in strong arms, smiling feraly about what the night will bring.

“Thank you for joining us this evening! Remember to tip your waitress! Good night!”