Sam:
What we need is a few good taters.

Smeagol:
What’s ‘taters’, precious?

Sam:
Po-ta-toes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. Even you couldn’t say no to that.

Smeagol:
Oh, yes we could! Spoiling nice fish! Give it to us raw-and wriggling! You keep nasty chips!

Sam:
You’re hopeless.