(Gandalf goes back in the house. He goes to pick up the Sock and has a quick vision of the eye of Sockron. Gandalf sits down by the heater)
He hears Bilbo’s voice: It’s mine, my own, my preciousssssssss! MWAHAHAHAHA!)
Gandalf mutters to himself: Oh, great…
Frodo: Bilbo, Bilbo… Yo! Bilbo!! (he comes in the door and sees the Sock on the floor)
Gandalf: My precious (still muttering to himself)
Frodo: (wails) He’s gone, hasn’t he, Gandalf?
Gandalf: Hmm…, Bilbo’s Sock… He’s gone to Smirkwood. He’s left you Bag End (Gandalf holds out a manila envelope) and all his stuff.
Frodo: (He puts the Sock in the envelope and Gandalf seals it with some yellow organic duct tape) Really?? Including his chocolate??
Gandalf: Hmm, well, don’t know about the chocolate, but the Sock is yours now. Put it somewhere REALLY REALLY SECRET. Like under the bed.
Frodo: WHAT?! Where are you going?
Gandalf: My night shift at Taco Bell. And I have questions, questions that need answering. Mostly about my paycheck.
Frodo: (wails) You’ve only just arrived! *sniff* I don’t understand…
Gandalf: Neither do I. That check was supposed to have gotten to me a week ago. (as an afterthought) Oh yeah, and keep it as secret and safe as possible!
(Gandalf goes out the door)
Frodo: (looks down at the envelope in his hand as ominous music starts out of nowhere)
(Mount OxiClean, then the towers of the fortress of Barad-dûr, including the bleachy moats and the lights of the Sorcs on the roads)
Gollum: (we hear–but don’t see–him crying out) Shire! Baggins! Fiiish!
(Mount OxiClean erupting and spraying bleach everywhere)(The Off-White Riders zooming out of Minas Morgûl, some strange invisible choir chanting)
Gandalf: (Riding to Minas Tirith, avoiding the hospital/waffle, looking over to Sockdrawer)
(In Minas Tirith, in the archives, finding Isildur’s account)
Gandalf reads: The year 3434 of the Second Age, here follows the notes of Isildur, Super Extra High King of Gondor, and the finding of the Sock of Power.
It has come to me, the one Sock. It shall be an heirloom of my kingdom, mwahahaha…
All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate, ’cause it’s MINE! You can’t hurt my pwecious wittle sockie!
(offscreen: Aragorn punches himself in the head again)
It is… precioussssss to me, though I buy it with great pain
The embroidery on the top begins to fade.
The writing, which at first was as clear as purple fruit, has all but disappeared. A secret now that only a hearty washing can tell.
(Evening, Farmer Maggot’s sockbit house)
(He is grilling burgers, his frog starts to croak)
(An Off-White Rider pulls up on his motorcycle)
(The frog screams and leaps into the house)
Off-White Rider: Shire…? Baggins…? Fish…?
Farmer Maggot: There’s no Bagginses here.They’re all up in Sockbiton. That way (he points) The deli is a little farther…
Off-White Rider: Thank you…
Farmer Maggot: A-any time…