Gollum sat sulking. The fat hobbit wouldn't let them have nice fish, instead he wanted them to try taters and burned fish. Gollum knew that taters sounded familiar. They thought back and back, into the dark years before the Ring came to him. Yes, potatoes. Grandmother had had a fondness for the brown smelly things; she had kept them in a garden, pulled them up out of the dirt and cooked them until they were soft, then buttered them. But Smeagol had never liked potatoes. Deagol had loved them. Deagol had teased Smeagol about not liking them; they had been angry and fought over it. But in the end they had been friends again.

What had made Smeagol strangle his friend? Couldn't they have agreed to share the Precious? But no, it was much too precious to share. Still, to strangle Deagol had not been necessary, had it? Smeagol glanced over at the two Hobbits who shared their meal and talked together. Something squeezed his heart.
He and Deagol had once been like that. They too had caught fish together and eaten it, and been happy. How many long, long years had it been since he had had a companion? It was so lonely, so lonely.
The Precious had taken everything from him, everything: grandmother and family and home, and … Deagol too. Deagol, who had done nothing but find a ring. Smeagol found a tear trickling down his cheek.
He had once fancied Deagol's sister, and Deagol had found ways for the two to meet each other; that was before he started to look down all the time, before he had hated the Yellow Face.
But the sister … what had been her name? She had gone with someone else after a while. Smeagol wondered if the Precious had reached back before it was found and taken other things as well, preparing him to be alone, all alone with only the Precious for company.

And now the Precious was so close, taunting him, hanging around Master's neck. Smeagol hated it, hated it. So why did he want it so badly? Why could he not sleep, thinking only of the golden circlet that bound him to the Master by an oath? The Precious, it tainted everything: food and water and friendship. He had thought that he might be Master's friend, but he knew it was impossible. He would never have friends again. The Precious came between.

Gollum sniffed the air and wrinkled their nose in disgust. Taters, nasty taters; they couldn't make burned fish taste better, oh no. More fish would be nearby in the stream, and Gollum was hungry. They would never eat potatoes, no, never; nor burned fish. They slipped away back to the stream.

Finis

Yeah, and this started out as a humorous story where Gollum decides to try taters. Happy Tolkien Week!