Bilbo: (greeting guests, ‘Lovely to see you’, etc. and doing a tap routine)
Frodo: Go on, Sam–ask Rosie for a dance!
Sam: I think I’ll just have another Mountain Dew…or four…or six…
Frodo: Oh no, you don’t… Go on… (he pushes Sam onto the skating rink.)
Sam: I don’t like rollerblaa-aaaades! (skids across the floor)
Gandalf: (sets off some large chartreuse fireworks shaped like kumquats, which spread out and zoom across ‘The Water’)
Bilbo: So there I was, at the mercy of three monstrous squeegees, and they were all arguing amongst themselves about how they were going to cook us-whether we’d be turned in the microwave, or whether they should make us watch Barney for days on end until we turned into jelly. But they spent so much time arguing the whether-tos and why-fors that the sun’s first light crept over the top of the trees–BING!–and turned them all into mushrooms. Mmm.
Gandalf: (sets off another small firework for the children lest they attack him with their knife sets)
Merry: Quickly (to Pippin, after boosting him up into cart) No, no, the big one…no, the bigger one, no, the really big one… (they sneak away cackling evilly)
Pippin: Done. (as Pippin lights the firework)
Merry: You’re supposed to stick it in the ground Hey, where’d the punctuation for my sentence go??
Pippin: It is in the ground!
Merry: It is?? (looks for his punctuation)
Pippin: NO! THE FIREWORK! (while Merry is still scrabbling around for his punctuation mark, the firework (shaped like a cricket) goes off and Merry and Pippin screech and hurtle twenty feet into the air. The ‘cricket’ turns and swoops down on the sockbits, who dash to get out of the way)
Frodo: Bilbo… (Frodo runs to find Bilbo) Bilbo, watch out for the cricket!
Bilbo: Cricket? Nonsense, there hasn’t been a cricket in these parts for a zillion years… YAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHH!
Merry: That was good, let’s get another one!
Gandalf: (Gandalf grabs them by their ears) Meriadoc Brandybuck… and Peregrin Took–I might have known.
(their ears become detached from their heads and Gandalf is left holding them. He puts the sockbits to work washing dishes while he has a can of soda)
Various: Speech, Bilbo… Speech, speech
Bilbo: My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks, Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots…
Everard Proudfoot: ProudFEET!
Bilbo: Today is my one-hundred and eleventieth birthday! WHEE!
Various: Happy Birthday!
Bilbo: Alas eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable sockbits. I like less than half of you half as well as you would like, and you like less than half of the leeks less than life itself.
(Shot of confused looking sockbits. Bilbo himself is also very confused by what he just said and scratches his head, trying to make sense of it.)
I, uh…, I… have stuff to do… (he is fingering the Sock in his pocket)
I’ve put this off for far too long.
I regret to announce, this is the end.
I’m going now–Bye! (this last quietly, to Frodo)
(he puts on the sock and vanishes with a loud “SKOIK!”