A/N: My thanks to TheLady of Light and Glorfindel for putting up with this story! And yes, I have read this book too many times, trust me! And since James got a good giggle out of the first chapter, and I will continue typing this out.

Again, this is a very old piece. So, if any of my regulars read this, I was much younger then, and it was funnier then.

As for a disclaimer, do I look like JRR Tolkien! Now really!

Chapter 2: Roast Mutton

Up jumped Bilbo out of a terrible nightmare about housecleaning. Dizzy at first, due mostly to banging his head in the box spring of the bed when he woke up, he realized that he had awoken at his usual time (i.e., one o'clock in the afternoon). He slithered down the stairs to find no one (with the exception of his rat co-habitants) about the place. There was a fearful mess in the room and piles of unwashed crocks in the kitchen. Nearly every pot and pan he possessed seemed to have been used. He was happy again for a fleeting moment. He thought all of last night was a bad dream caused by all the beer he had drank. This theory was quickly dismissed. He didn't have any beer last night, but he did do quite a bit of smoking, and Belly Bellbottom did sell some strange home-grown tobacco. Oh well, the mess was back with some added goodies. He dug through all the dirt to find the clothes and the bones of his neighbors (no big loss). Now he knew that Gandalf and his merry dwarves had been there (not to mention, there was a large carving in the door that read, "We were here!"). Surprisingly enough, he didn't go back upstairs and crawl back under his bed. In all actuality, he saw no reason to appease his growling gut. So, he pigged out forty-nine times on some well hidden stashes that the dwarves didn't know of, he was about to sit down to his fiftieth meal when Gandalf showed up at five minutes till two.

"You vile slime covered little . . ." the wizard began.

"Thank you," answered Bilbo, deeply touched.

"You won't think so if you don't get across your pitiful little garbage dump in five minutes!" (Which really no easy task, due to five miles worth of his extensive treacherous garbage garden . . .)

"If I am so needed, why didn't you wake me before you left. I have no obligations to those, who don't want me for a chore that I didn't volunteer for in the first place."

"Oh, we want you along. Hobbits are so expendable. It was just that you were having such happy dreams of pain and torture, and we just couldn't bring ourselves to wake you."

"Oh."

"So, you should step on it, or I will demonstrate some of my more unique techniques of my other professions," Gandalf answered with a thin smile and the rattle of something that sounded remarkably like iron chains in his vast pocket.

Bilbo ran across his garbage garden with an amazing speed. Just in time, Bilbo, panting with exhaustion and the sniffing of noxious fumes, made it across the swamp, that once upon a time was a pretty little woodland with a little crystal clear stream before the hobbits burrowed into it. Balin met Bilbo at the finish line painted on the ground in what looked like blood.

"Oh," remarked Balin, " I see that you choose the slow method over the more expedient method."

Being hobbit through and through, Bilbo asked, "When's lunch?"

The dwarves ignored him, but they did give him a pipe and plenty of their special tobacco. (They had visited Belly Bellbottom's shop, too.) They trekked through the treacherous garbage piles of Hobbitland. The going was excruciatingly slow. Most of this lack of speed had to do with Gandalf had their feet chained together with the aforementioned chains in his pockets. It didn't help that Bombur had the knack of finding sink holes in the landfills either.

On rainy night, before they were able to reach the safety of the outside world, they were attacked by ravenous hobbits, and all of their food supplies and other interesting accessories were stolen. Down hearted and threatening to shut up the whining Bilbo permanently, they paused in a clearing. Bofur set about seeing how to free them from their chains. He had experience in these things, and he had become a good lock pick as a result. After a success, Balin drew the short straw and was volunteered to be the lookout. On duty, he saw a light in the distance, and deciding that it was not his time to go yet, he alerted the others. It was unanimously decided that they send the expendable hobbit to check it out. Bilbo didn't remember voting in this situation. He really had no winning argument to get out of this, because the dwarves threatened to tell Gandalf about the hobbit's misbehavior, and no one wanted to experience one of Gandalf's special punishments for naughty hobbits.

Bilbo crept up on the light, where he saw three oversized trolls. They were merrily talking in a language very foreign to a hobbit's ear.

"My dear William, you have been so kind in your endeavors to feed us, but I am so very weary of the flesh of sheep. Could you be so kind as to find something else for our dining pleasure?"

"Oh, my dearest Bert, you know I have such a hard time cooking the other fineries, but I will strive to improve," answered the troll called William.

"I think I am going to be sick!" Growled the third troll.

"Please do, Tom. It will be something different from mutton to eat!" Exclaimed Bert.

"Why me, lord!" Answered Tom.

After hearing this, Bilbo did deposit a compliment behind a bush. He had been holding for too long, and this was his first chance at privacy. Feeling much relieved, he gave into his instincts and sneaked up behind William. With the crack of knuckles, he went about picking the monstrously sized bigger person's pocket. Bert, being the hungry sort that he was, was looking for an alternative to mutton, when he saw the furry creature at William's pocket.

"My good William, there seems to be an appetizer at your pocket. So you think you may be able to make a delicious delicacy out of it?" Bert announced with his heart all a flutter.

"Oh my," replied William, plucking the hobbit from his pocket, "It's a cute little bunny rabbit. It wouldn't be very neighborly to just come out and eat the little fellow, now would it at that?"

"But it wasn't very neighborly of you to go out and cook those sheep, now was it, William?" reminded Bert.

"Would you just get on with it and cook the bugger already!" exclaimed Tom.

"But, my dear Tom and my dear Bert, those sheep were worth the effort. This little bitty bunny rabbit wouldn't even make me a mouthful, much less the three of you. Besides, you know I don't have a recipe for cooking much else than sheep," he replied with a blush.

"Oh, William, he could be an after meal candy. We could cut him up in threes, and we wouldn't have to cook him either." Suggested Bert.

"No. I am certain he wouldn't appreciate that much. It would be so painful on his part. I just couldn't do anything so cruelly to him," answered William.

"William, you asinine jerk!" Bert said well-mannerly, "You kill him first!"

"Oh, Bert, I just couldn't."

"You have before. We could just ever so gently bash his brains out."

"No."

Bert politely punched William in the jaw. William cleared his throat very gentle trolly and handed Bilbo to Tom. He stood up and courteously beat the hell out Bert. Bert smirked and kindly knocked the hell out of William. When that was out of their systems, they resumed their places back by the fire.

"So, there may be more of them," suggested Tom.

"So, little rabbit," said William to Bilbo, who was doing the most unusual thing in Tom's hand (and it was best not to discuss this bit), "Are there more scrumptious little morsels about here?"

"Yes! Yes! Many! More than I can count! They are bigger than me. They are having a wild party, and they are so smug about it, that they didn't even invite you!" answered Bilbo.

"But I am no party crasher!" complained William.

"Sure you are," Bert pointed out, "Don't you remember that big hoe down at West Town last Saturday?"

"I am not, and I was invited!"

"Well, you are going to be a party crasher this time!"

"I will not!"

Again William and Bert politely knocked the stuffings out of each other. Tom gracefully held Bilbo over his opened mouth while his companions were otherwise occupied. A random foot came from the politely squabbling pair, and Bilbo went flying and Tom went cringing in some serious pain as he grasped the wounded part of his anatomy.

Meanwhile, the dwarves heard all the noise and got quite interested. They figured that Bilbo had found a party, and knowing their furry, slimy companion as they did, he wouldn't invite them. With an anticipation of a free meal, they jumped into the firelight. The trolls stopped fighting and dancing around in pain, as the case may be. .They looked toward the dwarves and a cultivated ly drooled with great expectations. Suddenly, the day became light. The trolls let out a delicate scream. The dwarves, hobbit, and wizard gazed at stoned trolls with vast satisfaction on all their faces.

"I couldn't let these trolls eat you. Trolls are such bad cooks. Smaug does such a better job of it," answered Gandalf.

"I will choose to ignore that remark, considering the source," stated Thorin.

"And what could you do about it anyway?" countered Gandalf.

Still ignoring Gandalf, Thorin cleared his throat.

"Being true blooded dwarves, as most of us here are, we should go and put an increase to our wealth, that will be reclaimed from Smaug . . ."

"He means," said Fili, "Let's go and rip off all the worldly goods of these stoned trolls."

They found the cave, which was full of many and various thing and not all of them legal or of a savory manner . . . The centerfold poster of Bertha, Bert's third cousin, that belonged to William was enough to make most of the party toss their cookies. Bombur looked her over and nodded. He found her quite attractive. On the more profitable side of things, they found lots of gold, jewels, swords, fresh well kept meat and many and various well-fed rats. Bilbo attacked the rats. He was a bit more than a little hungry. After several kicks of the hobbit in several tender spots, the dwarves convinced Bilbo to bury the treasure. Bilbo, like all hobbits, was an excellent borrower. This turned out to be a good thing for him. It got more dirt on his body. The dwarves packed up all the food (more free meals).

Thorin chose a sword, as did Gandalf with a wicked grin and a glint in his eyes. Bilbo, with a similar look, chose a dagger. It was not wise to let Gandalf near sharp pointy object, but he was the biggest and meanest in the party, and no one was willing to lose limbs to challenge him. This is not say that it was safe for Bilbo to have a weapon, but no one (They were all putting claims to their special treasures, and Bombur rolled up the poster of Bertha and stuck it in his back pocket.) was paying him any attention, so they didn't notice.

After a sizeable party, Gandalf decided that it was time to pay their "old buddy" Elrond a visit. The dwarves cheered, and if Bilbo wasn't so confused, he'd cheer too.