"Now, Mr. Frodo, that's the last straw! I've had it up to here with your gasping and whinging and falling down stairs so's you almost send me crashing down the cliff along with you. You know me and you know I like a good meal. If I weren't faithful to you and I cared more about stuffing my face than helping you out, do you really think I'd have come along with you this far? I've had plenty of chances to turn back, in case you didn't notice that while I was drowning in the Great River."

"You were a good friend and a help to me, Sam, but things have changed."

"I'll say."

"Are you going to defend yourself or not? Who else could have taken the lembas?"

"Well, I was sleepin' the whole time, and this one says he can't eat it, so I wonder."

"Sam, please, I didn't mean..."

"That's all right, sir. I was holding out hope that one of these days you'd see past your snooty upbringing and we could finally have a nice shag. I thought maybe once I got your cousins and those hunky Big Men out of the way I'd have a chance, but no. You'd rather stay up all night touching that thing. And anyhow you're so dirty and desperate these days I don't even like to look at you. Fine then."

"Are you really leaving me?"

"That's what it looks like, isn't it? Have a nice trip to through the Dark Land with your new best friend. I'm going to find my way back to Captain Faramir and see about getting me some real food and some action back in them caves."