Chapter One: Plans for a Long-Expected Surprise Party
It was a beautiful day in the Shire, and Frodo Baggins was drinking a cup of tea with his uncle, Bilbo. Nothing was unusual about this day at all; Sam was out dropping eaves in the garden, Merry was blowing things up and Pippin was generally being a fool of a Took. Frodo took another sip of his tea and smiled. Today was his thirty-third birthday, the day of his coming of age and becoming able to inherit his inheritance. Today was his uncle's birthday- his uncle, however, was eleventy-one years old today. He had lived an extremely long life and looked not a day over sixty. Frodo's parents had died when he was young, and Bilbo had adopted him because he had no heir; he chose Frodo because they shared the same birthday, and he liked Frodo- well enough. When he wasn't in his way, and didn't say much, or draw any attention to himself, or cost Bilbo money, or- well, you get the picture. It was rather a dumb idea, even Bilbo had to admit, to chose an heir based on a date, and especially to invite that heir to live with you now, as opposed to just inheriting your house and things when you are gone. But then, Bilbo was rather dumb, after all.
Anyhow, Frodo pushed back his teacup and smiled. "It's a fine day, uncle. I'm going to go check on Sam."
"Yeah, sure, alright." Bilbo muttered, wishing Frodo hadn't said anything, but very glad indeed that he was leaving.
Frodo pushed open he green, round door built into the side of the hill of Bag End, feeling a cool Autumn breeze ruffling the dark curls that fell about his face. He grinned and made his way down he little path that led to the garden. Sam heard him coming and jerked up to face him.
"I ain't been dropping no eaves sir, honest-" Then he realized that it was his beloved master, Frodo. "Oh! Mister Frodo, it's you!" Sam immediately dropped his last eave and came running to embrace the much- much-much-MUCH- skinnier hobbit.
"Hello-Sam." Frodo choked from beneath the tight grip of his overprotective eavesdropper, gardener, and frenemy. Frodo was half charmed by Sam's loyalty, have annoyed at his impetuous desire to never have anything bad happen to his master- not even the tiniest, little thing. Sam wouldn't let Frodo eat dessert, because 'sugar is bad for your health, Mister Frodo'. He wouldn't let him go out in the rain, even if it was a war,m day, and he wore a coat because 'we can't be having you catch a chill, Mister Frodo'. And Sam especially didn't let Frodo meet any ladies (not that he wanted to, anyway, but still) because 'if you do, Mister Frodo, you'll leave me behind, and then, who will look after you?'. Frodo pried the fat fingers off of his wrists and smiled woodenly. Sam thought Frodo loves him just as much as he loved Frodo, and considered them 'inseparable best friends- forever!'. If he knew what was going on in his master's mind, he would have been scandal. But thankfully for Sam- and very unfortunately for Frodo- Sam never could take a hint, no matter how obvious or direct it was.
"How's the eaves-dropping going, Sam?" Frodo asked, coolly surveying the mess that Sam had made on the lawn. Oh well; gardening, or whatever, kept Sam out of Frodo's hair,. and that was enough to make it completely worthwhile, at least in Frodo's opinion.
"Oh, very well indeed, Mister Frodo! I've been working hard out here, to 'elp you, sir!" Sam grinned.
Frodo rolled his eyes. His natural English-Shire accent was impeccable, whereas Sam's...well, let's just say that Sam's was born entire of misdirected flattery, and was forgotten half the time, giving him a very fake, overly-done sounding English-Shire accent mixed with full-blooded American-Shire stupidity.
"well then, carry on." Frodo said, waving his hand dismissively.
"Yes, Mister Frodo! I will!" Sam set to work, getting even grubbier in the dirt. Every now and then, he picked a veggie and ate it...plant plant, pick pick, eat eat, fat fat. Frodo rolled his eyes and hurried off to see what his friends Pippin and Merry were up to. He heard them before he saw them.
KABLOOOM! An explosion shook the shire, throwing dust on Frodo and flinging Merry and Pippin into oblivion for about 2.45 millionths of a second. They came down laughing and choking, and eager to tell Frodo of their 'experiment' that involved 'peanuts, water balloons and jello'. Frodo smiled and nodded, enjoying their company though he did not fully understand what was going on. When they finished, he grinned.
"Let's go swim to clean up, fellas.' he suggested. "We have to look nice for the party tonight!"
"OH! But you aren't supposed to know about that, Frodo!" Pippin cried in his Scottishire accent.
Frodo laughed. "For a surprise party, word sure gets around."
Merry nodded. "Yes, well, anyway, let's go swimming!" He had a one-track mind, and once he was on a mission, nothing could stop him. And I mean NOTHING. Zero, zilch, nien, nada- nothing.
"Ok!" Pippin agreed. He began stripping off his outer garments as they ran, throwing them wherever they fell. Merry and Frodo waited until they got to the creek to begin undressing, but Pippin finished last anyway, because he had trouble undoing his suspenders and needed his friends' help. Then the hobbits all jumped in at once.
"Oh this is great!" Pippin cried, seeing how long he could hold his breath underwater; he lasted about three seconds.
"I win!" Merry cried.
"Hey, let's have a drinking game!" Frodo suggested. "We'll all drink a gulp of water anytime Pippin says anything stupid!" He laughed.
"Ok!" Merry agreed immediately. "But we're gonna drink he whole pond!"
Pippin laughed, not getting the joke. A minute later he stopped laughing.
"What is it?" Frodo asked.
"I think I just peed." Pippin announced,
You never saw hobbits scramble out of water faster than they did then.