Bill the Pony was not someone you picked a fight with (partly because the RSPCA would have a few things to say about it), but he definitely was a strong-willed character. If he spilled your pint you smiled graciously and bought a new one, wiping the sticky liquid off your nice new shoes with a discreet towel. In fact, if you had any sense, you invited Bill to spill your pint so as not to get any trouble. So when he was tethered up in a stable in Bree (which he'd been untruthfully told *did* have something to do with cheese), with a bag hung round his head filled with oats and whatever it is ponies eat, he was not a happy bunny. He was not even a happy pony, which is far, far worse. A small yet fiesty pony is showed into the stable and is tethered up beside him.
Bill: What're you in for?
Bill: Ah yes. Owner wanted a smoke, did he?
Ben: That's right.
Bill: Didn't think to pack any, eh?
Bill: Thought he'd stop here and get some, did he?
Bill: I see. Idiot, is he?
Ben: No! And don't you talk about my master that way!
Bill: Ooh, I'm scared. Look at the size of you. You're barely tall enough to sniff my belly.
Ben: Oh yeah? I'm feared where I come from!
Bill: Really. Where do you come from? The Magic Kingdom?
Bill: I mean, what're you going to do? Talk me to death?
Ben: I'm just saying, s' all.
Bill: What's that he's given you? (He looks into Ben's nosebag).
Ben: Haddock and chips. S' quite nice.
Bill: 'Addock and chips? You don't know you're born!
Ben: What've you got?
Bill: Oats and that. Give me yours.
Ben: I want mine.
Bill: Really? Well I want never gets, now give it here, I want yours!
Bill: Give it here unless you want the fish to have company in getting battered.
(Ben gives his nosebag reluctantly to Bill).
Bill: Thank you. Very kind.
(Nob brings in a small goat and tethers him up the other side of Bill).
Bill: What're you doing in here?
Gruff: I'm a refugee, me.
Gruff: I'm a refugee. I'm on the run, you might say.
Bill: I might not. What're you on the run from?
Bill: Trolls! That's the daftest thing I've ever 'eard!
Gruff: Fine. Green teapots jump lower than forty six antelopes in a cage.
Ben: What are you on about?
Gruff: I had to say that because now the fact that I'm on the run from trolls cannot be, in any way, shape or form, the daftest thing you have ever heard. Or 'eard.
Bill: You're very strange, aren't you?
Gruff: No! They came clip-clopping over my bridge, they did.
Bill: Did they?
Bill: Can't have that.
Bill: Not with the bridges that they build nowadays. Not clip-clopping. That's grounds for legal action, that is.
Ben: Can you explain the bit about teapots again-
(Nob brings in a large cow and straps her next to Ben).
Bill: Oi oi! Bit of alright, bit of alright.
Daisy: Are you referring to me, young man?
Bill: As of now, I am not.
Bill (whispers to Gruff): Ask her what she is.
Gruff: What do you mean?
Bill: Ask her what she is!
Gruff: Ok. What are you?
Daisy: I'm a cow.
Bill starts laughing mildly, which is a real riot for a horse.
Daisy: I will not tolerate all this horse-play.
Bill: Pony-play, eh? Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more!
Daisy: Really! I happen to be a feminist.
Bill: Oh no, not a feminist.
Ben: You don't like feminists?
Bill: Personally, I'd rather have Gimli's sweat in me nose bag than talk to one of them for an hour.
Daisy: I happen to be in Bree for a cheese competition.
Ben: It ain't that kind of Bree.
Daisy: It ain't- I mean - it isn't?
Bill: I was brought here on false pretences, too.
Daisy: Well, I'm off then. I've got a rally to be at. Votes for Cows, that's what we want!
(Daisy storms out of the barn).
Bill: Phew. Another few minutes and she'd have been quoting Germaine Greer.
Gruff: I'd better go too. Those trolls will know where I am by now.
Bill: Yeah, good idea. Oh and do me a favor, will you?
Bill: Shut the door on the way out, will you, I've got a terrible draft up me whatsits.
Gruff: Sure. (Gruff clip clops out of the barn. Inside, Bill and Ben hear the yells of trolls and Gruff yelps and runs off into the night, followed by several huge trolls).
Ben: Do you think we should go after him?
Bill: No, why bother? I mean, what do goats give the world? Goats milk and goats cheese, neither of which anyone eats.
Ben: Why would they make it then?
Bill: Why do they make Skodas?
Ben: Good point. Anyway, I'd best be off meself. My master will have got his leaf by now.
Bill: Aye, well, see you later. And tell you're master that he should kick the habit.
Ben: Of smoking?
Bill: No, of taking you around with 'im!
(Ben tuts and leaves the barn. Bill sighs.)
Bill: Right, that's me haddock and chips finished. Now where do they keep the Tikka Massala and Lager bag...?