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[QuickPost MESSENGER approaches the Sackville-Baggins hole with utmost dread. He tries to silently sneak up to deposit an envelope in the letter slot in the door, but just as he reaches for it, the door opens to reveal a stern LOBELIA.]
MESSENGER: Oh. Heh. Why, hello, Mrs. Sackville-Baggins...errrr...Sashvee-Bayzheen.
LOBELIA: Hello, my good hobbit! Surely you have a missive from my dear Lotho in your bag?
[MESSENGER looks dubiously in bag and sees no such item.]
MESSENGER: No, ma'am. Few bills is all.
LOBELIA: Bills? I expect those will be from the Buckland Mint. For my Royal Hobbiton with the hand-painted periwinkles, you know. But surely there's a letter from Lotho (you remember Lotho, first in his class at Isengard) -- gilded foil wrapping, mark of the White Hand, all that?
MESSENGER [wanting to escape]: No, ma'am. Here, see for yourself. [Hands LOBELIA her mail and tries to step away.]
LOBELIA: Now see here...!
MESSENGER [fearfully]: Yes...?
LOBELIA: It is clear to me that dispatches from my little Lotho are being mishandled by the QuickPost! They are not to be plumbed or pawed or diverted to Westfarthing and back! Is that understood?!
[MESSENGER opens and closes his mouth a few times, then simply stalks off. LOBELIA shakes her head and goes back indoors.]
LOBELIA: Otho, I shall have to have a talk with the QuickPostmaster. It's unacceptable the way they're employing rude young tweens these days.
OTHO: Yes, dear.
[A chime rings in the hall. LOBELIA runs in and pulls the cover off a palantir.]
LOBELIA [into the palantir]: The Sashvee-Bayzheen residence, the lady of the house speaking! Oh, it's YOU, Lotho! Mummy was just talking about you!
OTHO: What does he want this time? He can't have any more money!
LOBELIA: [to Otho] I shall not have our son's fragile development disturbed by trifling over gold and silver pieces! [to Lotho] A break from your classes? Oh, surely you deserve it, your marks have been excellent! A walking tour of the Greenway with your friend Saruman? How nice! What else?
[LOBELIA gets a disturbed look on her face.]
LOBELIA: A mill and some pipeweed farms? For Saruman? HOW much?!
OTHO: Whatever it is, we can't afford it!
LOBELIA: Lotho, dearie, we'll talk about this some other time! So good to hear from you...cheers!
[LOBELIA passes her hand over the palantir to break the connection. Immediately there's another chime.]
LOBELIA: The Sashvee-Bayzheen residence, the lady of the house speaking! Rose? What's that? Bilbo's doing what?? Well, just keep things from getting out of hand until we get there!
[LOBELIA breaks the connection, in great disquiet.]
LOBELIA: Otho, hitch up the wagon! We've got to drive over to Bag End -- cousin Bilbo's got out of the basement again!
OTHO: Is that so unusual? I recall the one time he fell in with some dwarf pensioners --
LOBELIA: Otho! We don't need to dwell on old family scandals, we need to prevent new ones! He's trying to give away the house this time!
*****
[Scene changes to the interior of Bag End. FRODO is sitting in an armchair with a mug of ale. He's wearing a sleeveless Belfalas Bay Packers T-shirt. SAM is sitting next to him in a shapeless housecoat, reading a trashy hobbit romance novel. ROSE is wearing a revealing strapless dress and is standing in the foreground by a large palantir. She breaks the connection at her end.]
ROSE: There now. Our Lobelia's on her way.
FRODO: What'd you have to go and call our Lobelia for?
ROSE: She'll know what to do...she has a cool head on her shoulders!
FRODO [sarcastically]: Yeah. Like Caradhras. Are you done using the tirry yet?
ROSE [oblivious]: Why, just last week, she helped me out with Mr. Proudfoot.
FRODO: 'Elped YOU out? She 'elped HIM out, with that umbrella of 'ers, after you 'elped 'im in...
ROSE: Frodo...!
FRODO: ...and 'e 'elped 'imself...
ROSE: Frodo!
FRODO [changing the subject]: You going to answer me question? I said, you done with the tirry yet?
ROSE: Yes, I'm done with the tirry!
[FRODO slaps the side of the palantir. Loud clashing of swords and battle cries immediately begin emanating from it.]
FRODO: That's better. [Gestures toward the glowing globe.] A 'obbit needs 'is intellectual exercise, eh, Daisy?
SAM: I love it when you call me that. [Starts rubbing his legs together.] Don't forget that a hobbit needs his PHYSICAL exercise! [giggles]
FRODO: 'Ere now, don't go gettin' all broody on me...
ROSE: Have I mentioned that I'm done with men, too?
SAM [hopefully]: Maybe you'd better go downstairs and check on Bilbo? We don't want me gaffer wandering out again.
FRODO: Your gaffer? I thought 'e was me uncle.
ROSE: I thought he was me granddad.
FRODO: Heh heh! Dirty old man. Maybe 'e's all three.
ROSE [looking out the window]: Well, whoever he is, there's a perfect bunch of strangers traipsing all over the lawn. Looks like they're expecting a party.
FRODO: Naww! 'E didn't go and tell everyone it was 'is birthday again, did 'e?
ROSE: Course he did! Haven't you been paying the least scrap of attention? And before I forget... [Walks over to Frodo and drops the One Ring in his hand.] ...here's his birthday present to you. Says it's an artifact of ultimate evil, and you've got to go to Frogmorton or Mordor or some such to get rid of it.
FRODO [disgusted]: Aww, NOICE.