The Hobbit: A Stupid Journey

Chapter One: A Meeting with a Wizard

There once lived a Lobbit named Bibbo Baggies. He was a nasty little sod that lived in a nasty little, filthy hole. His sister, Laboria, had always had her eye on his expensive looking Lobbit hole.

One day, Bibbo was looking at her staring over his fence and was about to give her the finger when a wizard teleported into his front yard. This was no ordinary wizard, it was Gander the Gold. He wore bright yellow robes and a tall, conical hat which resembled what a disobedient school boy might wear about 50 years ago relative to modern times and not having anything to do with the timescale of In-the-Middle Earth which was something like 3,000 years ago and nobody had invented anything but swords throughout the 16,000 years of civilization before that in which they all carved out massive dwarf tunnels.

The wizard squinted at Bibbo. “Oops, wrong house, I was looking for a great thief.”

Bibbo mistook him for saying ‘in search of a great chief’ and puffed out his chest. “I’m a great chief, you foolish, blasted old man and don’t you forget it!”

The wizard frowned and mistook him for saying, ‘a great thief’. “Ha, we’ll just see about that.”

Bibbo jabbed his pipe at the old man, despite the wizard being fifteen times his size and strength (okay 100 times his strength). “Bring it on, you old codger pie-faced, baboon!”

“I will!” yelled Gander. “I’ll be bringing a load of dwarves to steal you away and face the mightiest dragon on earth for a treasure hoard you can’t possibly hope to defend even if you did claim it which is highly unlikely.”

At this point, Bibbo was quite purple in the face and his smoke rings more reassembled ovals as he puffed them furiously. He spit tobacco three feet as he spoke. “Go ahead and try it, you weasel of a half-wit, mole-eating, sod-skin!”

With a crack and blast of yellow light Gander disappeared.

Bibbo smiled and chuckled to himself. “That ought to take care of that idiot.” He sat back down and continued to blow expensive smoke rings. “Mangy old coot,” he chuckled to himself.