Gandalf: (bangs on door and accidentally knocks a hole in it)
Bilbo: No thank you. We don’t want any more visitors, well-wishers, vacuum salesmen, or distant relations.
Gandalf: And what about sort of old friends?
Bilbo: Gandalf? Didn’t I say that one?
Gandalf: Bilbo Baggins.
Bilbo: No, that’s my name.
Gandalf: Good to see you–111 years old, I wouldn’t believe it. You haven’t aged a day…well, maybe a few.
Bilbo: Come in, come in. Welcome, welcome. Soda, soda? Or maybe something stronger? I’ve got a few bottles of the old Winyards left. 1296–very good year, almost as old as I am, laid down by my daddy. What say we open one?
Gandalf: Just soda, thanks.
Bilbo: …expecting you last week…not that it matters, you always come and go as you please…you caught me a bit unprepared…(mutters about jam, tarts, lederhosen, and cheese)…Oh, no, we’re all right. I could make you some Pop-tarts if you like. Gandalf?
Gandalf: Just soda, thanks…
Bilbo: Ah, right. You don’t mind if I eat everything else in the house, do you?
Gandalf: No, no! Go right ahead!
Lobelia: Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins! (knocks down door)
Bilbo: (yells to Lobelia) No, I’m not at home!!! This is a recording! (to Gandalf again) I’ve got to get away from here! I want to see mountains, Gandalf! And pickles! Lots of pickles! And find somewhere quiet, where I can finish my comic book. Oh, soda…
Gandalf: So. You mean to go through with your plan then?
Bilbo: Yeah, yeah, it’s all in hand. All arrangements are made. Mwahaha.
Gandalf: Frodo suspects something.
Bilbo: Duh, he’s a Baggins. Not a kumquat-head from Hardbottle.
Gandalf: You will tell him, right, Bilbo?
Bilbo: Huh? Ummm…
Gandalf: (sternly) BILBO!
Bilbo: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Gandalf: He’s very fond of you…
Bilbo: I know. He’d come with me if I asked him, (I think) but I think in his heart he’s still in love with the Shire. Besides, he’d get me wet. I need a holiday, and I don’t think I’ll return. In fact, I know I won’t… I’m going to Smirkwood.
(later that evening, outside Bag End, Gandalf and Bilbo stick some growling weeds into their pipes and light them. One of the weeds bites Gandalf before he manages to get it in)
Bilbo: Old Toby, finest fanged-weed in the Southfarthing.
(he blows a large doughnut into the air as the weeds’ complaining growling subsides. Gandalf is unimpressed. He puffs out a large steamboat, which chugs through Bilbo’s doughnut. Another weed bites him and he winces)
Bilbo: Gandalf, this will be a night to remember!
Gandalf: (examines weed-bites) I’ll say.