Bard: Oh, God. Here he comes.
Thranduil: Good to see you. Again. We have to stop meeting like this.
Bard: [is he kidding] I know. It is uncanny how this just continues to happen. It is seems to be quite common for a company of 13 dwarves and a hobbit to unleash a fire-breathing dragon upon a small lakeside shantytown that just so happens to set it ablaze, sending its inhabitants fleeing for their lives. I hear it happens a lot in No-other-place-but-here-ville. As common as mosquitos.