There are some who consider that Frodeo Bagsyings was on a quest. It was a quest to discover or gain possession of The Ring, so, as it turned out, he might as well have stayed at home. But one bright morning he was up and aragorn, with lots of his father’s money, just for the Crack – the crack of doom, obviously.
He found the Inn of the Prancing Stallion and began to entertain himself with women and drink; Tom Bombadil’s Casino (grandly decorated with Corinthian gollums) saw off moria of his cash, and soon he came to the end of his bag of coins, having developed one or two rather bad hobbits.
When the famine came, Frodeo was broke and took a job tending pOrcs and longed to eat their food. He came to his senses and decided to stage a Return of the Kin.
He planned thus: I shall cross many rivers, valleys, marshes, high ground and dark places (here be dragons) in order to go to my father and beg and I’ll fall at his feet and say ‘I have been foolish. Make me a servant.’
But while he was still a long way off, his father (who had been keeping vigil from one of his Twin Towers) ran to greet him. He kissed Frodeo and provided shoes and a coat. He also provided One Ring To Rule Them All.
He threw a great party (not unlike an eleventy-first party) for his friends in the Shire; he roasted the Fatted cElf.
‘This, my son, my preciousss, was lost in Mirkwood, but now is foundses. He was in the mountains of Mordor, but is alive!’
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