I was sitting by the fire, puffing on a pipe, still nursing a hangover from the ale-fest the night before, when HE walked in.
He had a long white beard, a magical staff, and legs that you'd like to eat on toast.
"Are you Frodo Baggins," he intoned.
"I might be," I said. "Who's asking?"
"My name is Gandalf, Mr. Baggins. And I need your help."
I looked him over. "Lots of people need my help. What makes YOU special?"
"Well, Mr. Baggins... there is a certain piece of jewelry. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could prove... troublesome. I need someone to take this ring to Mount Doom, where it can be destroyed."
I stuck some more weed in my pipe, and said, "Look, doll, let's get one thing straight- you can't come into my hole, tell me a fairy-tale about a magic ring, bat those pretty eyelids, and have me fall at your feet. I stick my neck out for nobody."
This and a whole lot of other brilliant versions right here.