Chapter Text
Narrator: Sixty years ago, a wizard vandalised the door of an innocent hobbit and threw a dworgy at his house. Not to worry, he became rich for his troubles. Like, VERY rich. Rich enough that he never had to do another day of work in his life. That’s right, he’s got fuck you levels of money. And, because he was bored, he adopted his nephew. And what did his parents have to say about that? Well…not much.
Gaffer: …and while they were on that boat, there was a bit of a struggle. No-one knows exactly what was said, except for two words: “Bagginses”, and “Shire”.
Sam: Really father?
Gaffer: Well, there was also some yells about rings, which makes me think someone wanted to…you know what? You’re too young for this.
Sam: I’m 31.
Gaffer: Exactly. You’re just a child.
Sam: But I’m so close to adulthood.
Gaffer: No. If I don’t tell you about sex things before you’re an adult, I won’t have to worry about any underage pregnancies.
Sam: Trust me, Rosie has already taught me everything I need to know.
Gaffer: Say WHAT?!
Sam: …I mean…uh…Frodo?
Gaffer: …well, at least neither of you are getting pregnant.
Sam: Otho did.
Gaffer: Dwarf couch genes work different from ours.
Narrator: Now, there was a curious thing about Bilbo Baggins. You see, not only was he obscenely rich, but in the last six decades, he hasn’t aged a day. Yeah, imagine being eleventy-one and still looking fifty-one. And what’s more, Frodo was about to be thirty-three, which is adult age according to hobbits, which would make the author of this fic just barely legal. But, with their upcoming birthdays, everyone expected a big party. And sure enough…
Bilbo: *kicking down the door to the nearest store* I need all this stuff for the party.
Shop Owner: But…this is every item in the shop. We’d have nothing to sell to anyone else.
Bilbo: *dumps a pile of gold on the counter* Is this enough to cover it?
Shop Owner: …let’s get this stuff to Bag End, shall we?
Narrator: And of course, he had to have entertainment…
Gandalf: And that’s the last of the fireworks.
Bilbo: Should you be smoking so close to these?
Gandalf: *takes a long drag from his pipe and empties the ashes near the crates* Why? What’s the worst that could happen?
Narrator: And of course, everyone was very excited to see their invitation arrive…
Lobelia: But I must have been invited.
Post Office Worker: *literally up to his neck in invites* Lady, with him sending out this many invites, I’d just turn up.
Narrator: But then, we got to the day of the party…
Bilbo: Well Frodo, it’s time.
Frodo: Time for what?
Bilbo: Time for the party, my boy.
Frodo: Party? Who’s getting married?
Bilbo: …you see, this is why I adopted you. You’re gonna need all the money and help you can get when I’m gone.
Frodo: What do you mean you’re going? The marriage just started.
Bilbo: I am really going to miss you.
Narrator: And so, the party commenced. And the sheer amount of food and drink present was unbelievable…
Lobelia: Hey Bilbo, I didn’t know you also had a bottle of Chateau le Bree 1321.
Bilbo: I didn’t. We needed more booze, so I’ve been getting some of the other hobbits to raid your cellar.
Lobelia: You bastard! I was going to let that sit in my basement and never ever drink it.
Bilbo: And let good booze go to waste? Fat chance.
Lobelia: That’s how wine gets good: by letting it get old and not drinking it.
Bilbo: *taking a sip* Well, the not drinking it part is certainly true.
Pippin: Look what I found Mr. Baggins *hands him several bottles*
Bilbo: Bridgefield brandy from 1300? Now we’re talking *starts drinking*
Lobelia: STOP THAT YOU ASSHOLE! Brandy’s meant to be aged too.
Bilbo: Listen, if you haven’t drunk it after 100 years, you might as well let someone else drink it *drains the bottle*
Lobelia: Go fuck yourself Bilbo *walks away*
Bilbo: You’re just jealous that I thought to drink this before you.
Narrator: And finally, the pre-dinner entertainment…
Gandalf: Trust me, you’re going to enjoy the finale for the fireworks.
Bilbo: Is it a dragon?
Gandalf: …you can’t know that.
Bilbo: I’ve known you for decades. I know what kind of a jackass you can be.
Gandalf: When have I ever been a jackass to you?
Bilbo: YOU THREW A DWARF RAVE AT MY HOUSE!
Gandalf: Dworgy.
Bilbo: Same difference.
Gandalf: Well, in any case, there’s no way you could possibly know about any dragon fireworks or lack thereof.
Bilbo: What’s that then? *points out dragon fireworks currently burning down the field, with hundreds of screaming hobbits around*
Gandalf: …a coincidence.
Bilbo: You know, it’s a good thing I wasn’t horribly traumatised by the whole ‘robbing a dragon’ adventure, otherwise this could have been a horrible thing to do to a senior citizen.
Gandalf: You don’t look a day over fifty-one.
Bilbo: *with a sigh* Doesn’t feel like it though.
Gandalf: Anyway, should I do something about the dragon, or…
Bilbo: Maybe when it finishes with the Sackville-Bagginses.
Narrator: But then came the speeches. Because what major birthday party would be complete without speeches that you only half pay attention to. But this time, there was something to pay attention to…
Bilbo: Listen up fives, a ten is talking.
Lobelia: Really? Where?
Bilbo: Gonna be honest, surprised you survived the dragon. But anyway, not only is today my eleventy-first birthday, but it’s my nephew Frodo’s coming of age birthday, he’s now thirty-three. And it’s the day he comes into his inheritance…
Lobelia: Oh, you’re planning to die?
Bilbo: In a manner of speaking. And by that I mean, this is my last day in the Shire. Peace out bitches *slips the ring onto his finger and disappears*
Frodo: Oh no. Uncle? Where’d you go?
Bilbo: *whispering in his ear as he went past* Damn it boy, you know damn well where I am and where I’m going.
Frodo: Oh my God he’s a ghost.
Bilbo: God damn it, just get to the house when you can.
Frodo: You got it disembodied voice of my uncle.
*at Bag End*
Bilbo: *taking off the ring* Ahh, finally away from the thing I hate most: people.
Gandalf: I suppose me being here makes that a bit awkward.
Bilbo: JESUS FUCK! When did you get here?
Gandalf: An hour ago.
Bilbo: Well, anyway, I suppose I better grab my stuff and be on my way. I’m leaving everything for Frodo. Honestly, I’d have left everything to anyone who wasn’t a Sackville-Baggins.
Gandalf: Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave Frodo all alone?
Bilbo: To be honest? No, but it pisses Lobelia off, so yes. Maybe just keep an eye on him when you can? Poor kid still doesn’t know the difference between butter and mayonnaise.
Gandalf: How does one get those mixed up?
Bilbo: I wish I knew. Well, farewell Gandalf.
Gandalf: And you’re leaving the ring, right?
Bilbo: Huh? Oh, right, I suppose I…but then again, why? Why should I leave it? I’ve had it all these years, why shouldn’t I keep it?
Gandalf: Bilbo…
Bilbo: It’s mine. MINE! My precious…
Gandalf: And doesn’t that phrase sound familiar to you?
Bilbo: …oh good God, I’m becoming Gollum *throws the ring on the floor* There, it’s gone…although…
Gandalf: Bilbo…
Bilbo: Fine, I’ll leave it…although…
Gandalf: God damn it Bilbo Baggins, LEAVE THE DAMN RING!
Bilbo: I…don’t know if I can…
Gandalf: Let me make the decision for you *picks up Bilbo and throws him out the window* Is that better?
Bilbo: A bit…can you bring me my ring?
Gandalf: What did I just say?
Bilbo: Ugh, fine *sounds of him walking away*
Gandalf: Okay, now that he’s…oh Eru damn it.
Bilbo: *who’d snuck back in* Uh…it’s not what it looks like?
Gandalf: Adventure. Now.
Bilbo: …fine… *leaves for good this time*
Gandalf: Finally. Now, to wait for Frodo…
Frodo: Hi.
Gandalf: When the fuck did you get here?
Frodo: While you were throwing Uncle Bilbo out the window.
Gandalf: How’d I not notice you until now?
Frodo: I was playing with Uncle Bilbo’s ring. See *puts it on his finger, disappearing, before immediately reappearing, then disappearing and reappearing several more times*
Gandalf: Well…good to see you’re having fun with it, but I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t want to use it too much.
Frodo: *mid removal* Why? It’s so much fun.
Gandalf: Well, you don’t want to use up all the magic, do you?
Frodo: I suppose not.
Gandalf: Also, the ring is almost certainly cursed.
Frodo: Oh…you’re magic, right?
Gandalf: *suspicious* Yes?
Frodo: Good, you can uncurse it then.
Gandalf: What do I look like, a magician? I can’t do that.
Frodo: But you look exactly like a magician.
Gandalf: Don’t you have a party to wrap up.
Frodo: Already did. I told them carriages will be there at midnight, ambulances at 2am, wheelbarrows at 5am, and hearses at daybreak.
Gandalf: Well then…off to bed with you.
Frodo: Can I play with my ring some more first?
Gandalf: I would advise against…
Frodo: Too late *starts disappearing and reappearing*
*meanwhile*
Sauron: What the fuck keeps doing that?
*back at Bag End, the next morning*
Lobelia: So, where is he?
Frodo: Where’s who?
Lobelia: Don’t pay dumb.
Otho: I don’t think he’s playing.
Lobelia: Shut up Otho. I’m looking for the man of the house.
Frodo: I’m a man of this house.
Lobelia: I’m referring to your uncle, you idiot.
Frodo: Oh…he’s not here right now. Can I take a message?
Merry: Uh, Frodo? He’s gone.
Frodo: I know, that’s why I’m taking a message.
Merry: No, as in he left, and isn’t coming back.
Frodo: Oh…I’ll still take a message though.
Otho: Okay, here’s your message: give us the house. Since if Bilbo’s gone, I’m the next in line to inherit it.
Frodo: Ok…
Merry: Frodo, as your lawyer, I must inform you and the Sackville-Bagginses that Bilbo left Bag End and everything in it to you in his will.
Lobelia: I don’t believe you.
Merry: It’s all right here, complete with seven signatures in red ink *pulls out a piece of official looking paper*
Otho: *reading the document* Damn it, foiled again.
Lobelia: The fuck are you talking about? You can’t even read.
Otho: That doesn’t mean it’s not right.
Lobelia: …okay, you win this time Baggins, but one day Bag End will be mine.
Frodo: Over my dead body.
Lobelia: If that’s what it takes.
Merry: Okay, before Frodo gets any more ideas *shoves the Sackville-Baginses out the door forcefully*
Frodo: I actually didn’t know you were my lawyer. Or even qualified to be one.
Merry: I’m not, but they don’t need to know that.
Gandalf: Excuse me, may I come in?
Merry: Frodo, as your lawyer, I must advise against…
Gandalf: Oh, for God’s sake *throws Merry out the house*
Merry: HEY! Throwing someone like that is some kind of crime…burglary, I think. As a lawyer, I can arrest you for that. See you in the jailhouse, you better get a prosector *leaves*
Frodo: Bye Merry. See you soon *turns to Gandalf* So, what can I do for you?
Gandalf: I’m just coming by to tell you not to use the ring if you don’t have to.
Frodo: You mean like this? *starts putting ring on his finger and taking it off, disappearing and reappearing*
Gandalf: Yes, just…please stop doing that.
Frodo: *still doing that* Why?
Gandalf: I just have a bad feeling about it, okay? Magical items like that aren’t common, and if it’s anything like the one I think it is, it’s probably a bad thing.
Frodo: *still using the ring* Ooh, ominous.
Gandalf: Just promise me you won’t use it much until I get back, okay?
Frodo: I promise.
Gandalf: Thank you. I must be off though, farewell *leaves house*
Frodo: *goes back to playing with the ring* Whee…