Forum messages at Straight Dope have some great examples of how LotR might sound if written by other authors…

Mickey Spillane

I was sitting by the fire, puffing on a pipe, still nursing a hangover from the ale-fest the night before, when HE walked in.

He had a long white beard, a magical staff, and legs that youd like to eat on toast.

“Are you Frodo Baggins,” he intoned.

“I might be,” I said. “Who’s asking?”

“My name is Gandalf, Mr. Baggins. And I need your help.”

I looked him over. “Lots of people need my help. What makes YOU special?”

“Well, Mr. Baggins… there is a certain piece of jewelry. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could prove… troublesome. I need someone to take this ring to Mount Doom, where it can be destroyed.”

I stuck some more weed in my pipe, and said, “Look, doll, let’s get one thing straight- you can’t come into my hole, tell me a fairy-tale about a magic ring, bat those pretty eyelids, and have me fall at your feet. I stick my neck out for nobody.”

Ayn Rand

Smeagol writhed in corruption, his lifelong attempts to collectivize the Hobbit economy had twisted his soul and body and brought ruin to the Shire. “Precious,” he muttered. “Precious colective good giving according to need.” He shuddered at the thought of the unbroken individual standing proudly over a conquered plain with the Ring, and felt jealous that the wholesome power could not be his.

-Lord of the Rings, by Ayn Rand.

Dr. Seuss

“Gandalf, Gandalf! Take the ring!

I am too small to carry this thing!”

“I can not, will not hold the One.

You have a slim chance, but I have none.

I will not take it on a boat,

I will not take it across a moat.

I cannot take it under Moria,

that’s one thing I can’t do for ya.

I would not bring it into Mordor,

I would not make it to the border.”

-excerpt from Dr. Suess’s FOTR.

The Lord of the Rings

or The Land of Middle-earth

by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

SCENE. — Front yard of Bag End in Hobbiton, the Shire. Various hobbits discovered standing and sitting in various attitudes suggested by Rankin-Bass films and trippy illustrations from the 1970s.

CHORUS OF HOBBITS.

If you want to know who we are,

We are gentlemen of the Shire;

In many an inn and bar,

By many an alehouse fire,

We dine on six meals a day;

Our attitude’s bright and gay;

But we don’t mean it that way, oh!

If you think we are cutesy-poo,

Like an Ewok or Jar-Jar Binks,

You don’t know what we do:

When we don’t smokes, we drinks!

Our dwelling is Hobbiton;

We only stand three foot one;

We use evil rings for fun, oh, oh!

We use evil rings for fun!

If you want to know who we are,

We are gentlemen of the Shire;

In inn and bar, by alehouse fire;

In many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many a bar, oh, oh, oh, oh!

In inn and bar, by alehouse fire!

Enter Gandalf in great excitement. He carries a pack of fireworks on his back and a staff in his hand.

RECIT. — GANDALF

Gentlemen, I pray you tell me

Where a gentle hobbit dwelleth, named Frodo,

The ward of Bilbo?

In pity speak, oh speak, I pray you!

TED SANDYMAN. Why, who are you who ask this question?

GANDALF. Come gather round me, and I’ll tell you!

SONG and CHORUS — GANDALF.

A wand’ring wizard I,

A thing of spells and magic,

Of stories dark and tragic,

Of counsel I’ll prophesy…

PL Traves & Walt Disney Mary Poppins style…

o/` Wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraith-eree,

A Nazgul’s as nasty as nasty can be.

Wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraithery, wraith-wraith-eroo,

your luck will run out when I’m looking for you.

So give me the Ring, or you’re Nazgul, too! o/`

o/` Just a spoonful of lembas helps the athelas go down

the athelas go down,

the athelas go down.

Just a spoonful of lembas

helps the athelas go down

in a most delightful way. o/`

o/` Feed the orcs, tuppence a bag,

tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag. o/`

o/` Oooh…taurelilomeatumbalemornatumbaletaurealomeanor,

if you say it too slow then you won’t make it to dinner.

Unless you’ve got some time on hand don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

taurelilomeatumbalemornatumbaletaurealomeanor. o/`

Neal Stephenson

Frodo, the Deliverator, belongs to an elite order, a Fellowship of nine members only. He’s got esprit up to here. Right now, he is preparing to carry out his only mission that matters. His armor is silver like the light of the full moon, jangling only slightly with its decorative gems. An arrow will bounce off its dwarvenmesh weave like a hammer off an anvil, but excess perspiration wafts through it like the winds over the charred plains of Gorgoroth. All the arrows of all the hunters in the world couldn’t cut it against this one.

When they gave him the job, they gave him a sword. The Deliverator never looks for trouble, but some Orc might come after him anyway—might want his armor, or his cargo. The sword is tiny, aero-styled, lightweight, the kind of sword a Hobbit would carry; it cuts quickly into load-bearing beams without visible effort, and when you get done using it around evil, you have to sheathe it, because it glows in the dark.

Tom Clancy Hunt for the Ring

The King of the Nazgul (KotN) fingered the safety buckle that secured the shortsword in it’s scabbard. It was modeled after the Gladius design, making it wholly inadequate for going up against Elven armour, but it was perfectly suited for being jammed in the collarbone of a Hobbit ‘merc, without calling too much attention to it’s owner. His XO, “Camel” Khamul had used a similar weapon in numerous CoIN missions in North Gondor, where he had been sent to disrupt “Elrond’s” supply fellowships sneaking down the Is-ild-ur trail.
The KotN smiled, even without a head. This mission was almost going to be a mead-run. Taking out a squad of sleeping halflings was going to be easier than slaying Wyvyrns sitting on a tarmac…

There are just too many good ones over there. There’s a bit of James Joyce, some Irvine Welsh, JK Rowling, and many many more…