we can do this movie the way Bakshi should have done it. IMHO, however, I can't see Minnie as Galadriel. The tall, beautiful Elven queen portrayed by some oversize Disney rodent? Some hormone-injected rat? I think not. Noooo, the beauty and wisdom of Galadriel and Celeborn must come through. I'd suggest Boris and Natasha for the parts. Maybe Minnie can play Arwen. Which suggests Mr. Peabody for Gandalf: he has both the wisdom and the attitude for the part. It's a bit of a departure from traditional casting, but I'd be sorely tempted to cast a woman as Saruman: Evil-lyn, from "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe". A powerful magician turned to evil, with a voice of silken iron
Harry's capitalization pool was starting to roll over. He knew there was fallout risk. With a quick glance at Ron and Hermione he added a short hedge of soft dollars and stirred in some FASB No. 8. But this was a mistake; the market began churning, and his small-issues exemption began to smoke. He started trying to write down the value when he felt, rather than heard, Snape gliding up from behind. His variance was harsher, less ironic, than usual. "So, Potter," he sneered. "That's your solution? When someone takes a poison pill, you can't always just shove a BARRA analysis down their throat, you know. If this had been a volatile market you'd be in Askaban for having violated Glass-Steagall." Snape looked down his nose at him, his equity balanced. "You're just like your father: arrogant, always at unsystematic risk, overextended, overbought and underfinanced."
This was too much. "My father was not overextended!" Harry shouted, jumping from his stool, portfolio in hand
wasn't like he'd planned to; during the early part of the battle Sauron stayed home, presumably to watch the soaps. Unfortunately for him, those pesky Elves and Men showed up on the doorstep of the Barad-dur and refused to go away: "...Gil-galad and Elendil passed into Mordor and encompassed the stronghold of Sauron; and they laid siege to it for seven
He grabbed Steinfrau's nose. There was nothing for it now; he had to hang on, hang on for dear life, or else the mad German would be gone and there would be no way to prove his innocence. Steinfrau tried to roll up the window of the moving cab, but with a massive lunge he managed to jam his free hand in and around the crank; the pressure on his arm was terrible, but the window stopped in mid-rise, and the extra handgrip helped him hang on as the cab increased its speed. They were heading toward Midtown. There was a chance, a bare chance; if he could hook his ankle around the fence at the 59th Street sidewalk café he might be able to slow them down. But would he be able to? People were screaming, throwing things; there were angry shouts from theatregoers and commuters, traffic cops pointed at him and swore. Steinfrau seemed to be egging them on, damn him.