One day, in the small village of Bree, an old man dressed in a white cloak was sitting at the bar of the Prancing Pony Inn. He was to be talking to the Barman. “I tell ‘ya,” he said. “You should never go on long journeys with hobbits. They always whine and complain about how they haven’t had third tea or whatever. That Baggins and his uncle were quite possibly the whiniest people I ever saw in my life. The younger one, Frito, or Freeda, or Frindy, or whatever his name was, couldn’t even throw the Ring into Mount Doom. He could have just tossed the Ring in and got the hell outta there, but nooo he had to get all posessed. If it weren’t for Gollum we’d have a new Dark Lord, and he’d be a midget. Then they would have died if I hadn’t saved them. Now, I kind of wish I hadn’t saved that Frito and Spam, or whatever their names are, because since Saruman burned the Shire… Hey! Shire rhymes with fire, and that’s what Saruman burned it with. Well, anyway they’ve had to stay with me, and now I’m miserable. That’s why I’ve been drinking so much. Another ale here.”
“You sure about that? This’ll be twenty-seventh ale today,” said the barman.”Oh well, it’s good for business.”

A few days after the appearance of Gandalf in Bree, a very short man came into the Inn and yelled:”BEER! Gimme beer or I’ll scream!”
“Gandalf was right about hobbits,” said the barman. “I presume you are the Mr.Frito Baggins Gandalf was talking about.”
“FRODO! IT’S FRODO!” screamed Frodo. “Anyway Gandalf isn’t so great. The first time he saw a Nazgul he wet his pants and broke into tears, and he didn’t want to go into the Mines of Moria because he’s afraid of the dark (that’s why he brought his nightlight on a stick), and he only pretends to have fought the Balrog, when he really only had tea with it,and It still comes over to his house sometimes. I should know I have to live with him just because he couldn’t grasp the concept of a match, and he burnt my hole down. I hear he’s blaming that on Saruman. What I’m trying to get at is that Gandalf isn’t all that he’s cracked up to be.”
“Do you mind if I use any of this to blackmail him into paying his tab?” asked the barman.
“No, not at all,” replied Frodo

THE END