“What a stupid place to put a magic tree,” Rotnart muttered to himself as he climbed a stone staircase carved into a cliff. He wiped the sweat from his huge forehead. “It’s in the middle of a damn hole.”
An unpleasant, high-pitched, squeaky voice answered him. “You got a point there, boss. I don’t like trees either. You never know what the filthy things are thinking about. They could be plotting to feast on our entrails or something.”
This made Rotnart stop in his tracks and turn around. He had been enduring his younger brother’s weird utterings ever since he was born, but that was bizarre even for him.
“Rabuf, do you know what a tree is?”
“Uh, yeah,” Rabuf replied. “They’re blue hairy things that hide in gopher holes. They only come out when you’re taking a piss.”
“Oh, #$&!” the troll king exclaimed as he pinched the bridge of his huge nose.
“Did I get it right?” the younger troll asked hopefully.
Rotnart nodded and continued up the steps. It was simply easier to agree with the younger troll. After all, he couldn’t get much worse than this, could he?
“Rabuf, if I decided to push you off, would you live?” Rotnart grumbled.
Rabuf looked down the six-story drop below them. After picking his nose in thought, he declared, “Yeah, I definitely would.”
“Figures,” Rotnart muttered to himself.
Minutes later, the two reached the top of the cliff and looked about. They were still in a forest, although the fog that surrounded them was new.
“Where in the hell are we?” the troll king asked airily. The older troll regretted not asking Discord that question while they were playing that dumb game.
“Don’t know. Maybe we can ask directions from that pile of rocks,” Rabuf answered, pointing into the forest.
“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” the older troll said angrily.
“No, really, boss, there’s a huge pile of rocks over there. I bet it knows where we are.”
“I said shut up!”
“Maybe it knows how to read,” Rabuf said thoughtfully. “I bet if you ask nicely, the rock pile could read that book of yours.”
The troll king balled his fists in rage. Beyond the mist lay the ruins of an enormous ancient castle. In order to reach the castle, the trolls would have to cross a rickety old rope bridge. Having nowhere else to go, Rotnart pointed at the rope bridge. “You first, Rabuf.”
Rabuf grinned crookedly, “Aye-aye, boss.” With that, the troll took off at a sprint across the bridge.
The elder troll screamed after him, “Slow down, for %#*@ sake!”
Ignoring the command, the lighter troll barreled across. The bridge groaned and swayed in protest but miraculously supported the troll’s weight.
Rabuf looked back and shouted, “Come on, boss! The last one to the rock pile is slow!”
Ignoring his younger brother, Rotnart swallowed nervously and took his first step onto the bridge. The wooden plank creaked ominously.
“I hate milk, humans, Ernest, thorn bushes, Discord, Rabuf, and this bridge,” he muttered as he slowly but surely made his way across. When he was halfway across, the bridge started to shake. Scared out his mind, Rotnart grabbed the rope support and held on for dear life. Seconds later, the movement and shaking stopped. The troll king took a few cautious steps forward, and the vibrations started again. As Rotnart screwed his eyes shut, he heard laughing at the other end of the bridge.
“I swear to Trantor, I’m gonna kill you!”” Rotnart screamed to his sibling who was lazily pulling on the ropes of the bridge.
“Come on, boss, stop fooling around. I’m bored,” Rubuf said lazily as he began to jump up and down on the bridge.
Rage spurring him forward, Rotnart began to muse about how to properly dispose of his brother for this indignity.
“Hey, boss, I see a thing,” Rabuf said suddenly. “I’m gonna check it out.”
Rotnart roared back, “No! Stay put you coward, and take what’s coming to ya!”
After thanking the evil demons for not letting him die, due to his brother’s stupidity, the older troll drew his sword and looked around for his sibling.
“Rabuf, where are you?” No answer. Bearing his green and brown teeth in a snarl, Rotnart cleaved through a thick sapling like a hot knife through butter. This did little to relieve his burning frustration. He was not only mad at his brother, but at himself as well. For the past twelve hours he had tried everything he could think of to turn that blasted tree of harmony into something much more heinous. Oh sure, if he had a couple of hundred years and nothing better to do, he could warp the tree like his father had done in Briarville. But who had that kind of time? Deep down in his gut, the troll king knew that the answer to all his problems could be found in his book . . . which he couldn’t read.
Not wanting to dwell on this depressing fact, he turned his attention back to the present. Rotnart sheathed his sword and and wondered if Rabuf had already gone into the ruins. As he pondered this, he heard a great crash from inside.
“Yep, the idiot’s in there,” declared the troll.
Rotnart was amazed as he entered the castle. It seemed to be much bigger on the inside. Everywhere he looked there were pictures, banners, and statues of horses in clothing.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
One particular painting caught his eye, and he walked closer to get a better look. It seemed familiar to him somehow. Rotnart set down his bag and rummaged through it until he pulled out Discord’s note pad. He flipped to the page where the freak had been drawing a crowned, winged horse with a huge sun on its butt. Sure enough, the two horses were identical, except the one in the painting didn’t look like a slut. As soon as this thought crossed his mind, something strange happened. Where the crowned horse had been staring majestically into the distance with its large eyes, now those eyes blinked and looked right at him.
“AAAAAHH!” the king of the trolls screamed and jumped backward. Rotnart landed on a stone tile that shifted beneath him. He heard a clicking noise and SPROING!
Rotnart was launched straight up into the air. He screamed as his enormous head smashed into the stone ceiling, leaving spider-web cracks. He plummeted back down, landing on the floor in a heap. A stone chunk of the ceiling broke away and fell squarely on his groin. Every single inch of his body throbbed in agonizing pain. Rotnart could have sworn he saw the horse portrait wince in sympathy.
“Boss? Boss, are you okay?”
Rotnart opened his eyes. What met his gaze was the ugliest thing he had ever seen. Before Rotnart could scream his lungs out, he recognized the face of his brother.
“Did a tree get ya?” Rabuf asked. “A tree got ya, didn’t it?”
“What? No. A *^$%ing rock fell on my balls, you moron.” The older troll grunted as Rabuf helped him to his feet.
Rabuf nodded, still talking about trees. “Gotta watch out for those little bastards. They come up right underneath ya and bite you on the . . .”
“For the love of Evil Demons, shut up.” Rotnart interrupted as he pushed his brother away.
He took several deep breaths. His crotch felt like several mules had taken turns kicking it. The older troll tried walking, but he could only do so with his legs spread widely apart, and each step made him want to puke.
Rotnart asked, wincing, “Where have you been?”
Before Rabuf could answer, Rotnart held up his hand. “Never mind. I wouldn’t understand one bit of it.”
As the older troll stooped to pick up his bag, he glanced at the winged horse painting. Sure enough, its eyes were looking at a different place than before. The horse seemed to be gazing at something behind the two trolls.
Pointing at the picture, the troll king declared, “That thing’s eyes move.”
Rabuf gazed at the painting contemplatively. He closed his eyes and opened them. He did this a few more times before putting his hands over his face so he could not see. He repeated this action several times. “Great Googlily Moogily, boss, you’re right. No matter what I do, it’s still looking at me.”
Rotnart sighed and slowly dragged his hand over his face. With all the patience he could muster, the troll king replied, “The horse ain’t looking at you. It’s looking at something . . .” Rotnart gaped at the painting. He followed the horse’s gaze and found himself looking at a suit of horse armor.
The troll king hit his brother. “Stand by that tin can over there.”
“Right, boss, where is it?” Rabuf asked as he searched the ceiling for the object.
Rotnart grabbed his brother by the nose, pulled his face down, and pointed.
“Oh, there it is. Why does it have four legs? Is it made for a war opossum? ”
“Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s made for opossums,” Rotnart replied as he wiped his snot drenched hand on his brother’s shirt. “Just go over there and play with it. See what happens.”
“Goodie, goodie, goodie!” Rabuf tittered as he gleefully began to tear into the armor and eat it. As he was doing this, Rotnart glanced at the painting. The troll king was curious if the horse in the picture would react. The white horse, however, continued to stare at the now decimated suit of armor with no reaction.
“Hey, boss. Buuuuuuuurrrrrrp! ‘Scuse me. I found something in the opossum armor.”
Surprised, Rotnart waddled over. While Rabulf picked splinters of plate mail from his teeth, he held up a rolled up scroll in-between spit-covered fingers. Snatching the parchment from his siblings clutches, the troll king broke the black wax seal and began to read. It had but one word written in dark ink that covered the entire parchment.
Gotcha
Rotnart whirled to face the painting. The winged, white horse was looking right at him with a grin that made the blood in his veins freeze. Before Rotnart could shout a warning to his brother, he heard a single note from a pipe organ, and his world began to spin. The troll king fought to keep his enormous lunch of grass and rocks down as his stomach tried to keep up with the rest of his body. Shaking his head, the troll found himself in a hall filled with more horse armor.
“No!” The troll king yelled as he pounded the wall with his fists.
“What’s the matter, boss?” Rabuf asked in-between mouthfuls of plate mail.
“My pack! It’s right there in the middle of this demon’s damned castle. Anybody can waltz right up to that bag and pick it up.”
“Well, it should be fine then.”
Rotnart turned around and glared down at his brother. “What do you mean?”
After finishing the last of the armor, Rabuf stood up. “I don’t think that many people know how to waltz. I only know how to polka.”
That was the last straw. Something snapped in Rotnart’s mind as he said quietly, “Rabuf, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? For me? You’re the best, boss!” the younger troll exclaimed happily as he shut his eyes.
Drawing his sword from his sheath, Rotnart aimed a blow at his brother’s head like he was about to split a ripe watermelon. Right as he was about to deliver his killing strike, the pipe organ began to play again. The older troll frowned. Should he kill Rabuf now or go see who was strangling the cat and then kill Rabuf?
“Decisions, decisions,” Rotnart muttered to himself as he mulled the choices in his head.
“Boss? Boss, where’s my present?”
Rabuf’s question jarred Rotnart out of his musing. Making his choice, Rotnart sheathed his sword. “Come on, I’ll kill--I mean, I’ll give you your present later.”
The pair followed the haunting music until they entered a new hall filled with mounted horse hooves. Both trolls stared at the grizzly trophies while the organ continued to play.
“Somebody really likes opossum feet.”
“Don’t touch em,” growled Rotnart as the pair advanced down the passage. The duo cautiously walked down the hall of hooves until they reached a dead end. Pressing his hands against the solid wall, Rotnart fumed in frustration as the direction of the music changed. It now sounded like the noise was coming from beneath them.
“What in the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” Rotnart asked angrily.
Rabuf pressed his ear to the wall. “I don’t think he heard ya, boss. Let me try.”
Clearing his throat, the younger troll screamed at the stones, “What in the hell have we gotten ourselves into?!”
The pipe organ stopped playing. The two trolls froze, afraid to breathe, let alone move. A single note blared from the pipe instrument, scaring the two trolls half to death. Behind them, a section of stone floor retracted to reveal a slide that led into darkness.
Rotnart pushed aside his brother. “What the hell, it’s my turn to go first anyway.”
With that, Rotnart dove head first down the hole. Immediately the troll king regretted his hasty decision as he plummeted down unbelievably fast. Worse, it was pitch black. He screamed as he made loop loop-de-loops, U turns, and pitfalls onto other slides. He went deeper into the bowels of the castle until the slide angled upwards and ended abruptly. Rotnart went flying off the slide and found himself tumbling across something relatively soft. The troll’s heart thundered in his ears as he shakily got to his feet and looked around. He was in a vast chamber surrounded by royal purple tapestries. In the center of the room was a huge pipe organ, flanked by two statues of pegasus. But what truly captured the troll’s attention was a cloaked figure sitting on the organ bench.
Without turning, the figure spoke in a feminine voice. “I wouldn’t stand there if I were you.”
The warning came too late. Rotnart was slammed from behind by his laughing brother.
Rabuf giggled, “Best! Ride! Ever!” He turned to the stranger. “Hey, did you see my brother come down here? He’s short, grumpy, and can’t read.” Hearing very angry grunts and swearing from underneath him, Rabuf got off his sibling. “Never mind, I found him.”
The humiliated king of trolls scrambled to his feet and drew his sword. “I swear to Trantor, I’m gonna make you eat your own balls when I catch you!”
Rabuf dodged a swipe from his brother. “Now, boss, I know you’re sensitive about that book, but you got to let it go. I mean just because you can’t read doesn’t make you any less of a troll.”
“I $&#*ing hate you!” Rotnart screamed as he threw a rock at his brother. The missile missed its intended target and landed on several organ keys, making a blood curdling sound.
“ENOUGH!” the cloaked figure commanded.
Both trolls froze like grotesque manikins as they slowly turned their heads toward the organ. A black aura surrounded the cloaked figure as it floated ominously. The hair on the back of Rotnart’s neck stood up as the creature got closer. Trembling, the older troll pointed his sword at the hooded creature. “You don’t command me, cretin. I am Rotnart, heir to the throne of Trantor Double Nose.”
The hooded creature laughed. In the blink of an eye the cloak disappeared, and a huge dark mare stood before them. Garbed in midnight blue plate mail and grinning with more sharp teeth than a horse should have, it towered over the two brothers. The winged unicorn was terrible and beautiful to behold with its starry mane and black spheres for eyes. The troll king stared at the equine figure in uncontained terror. His sword dropped from his limp fingers. He could not tear his eyes from the ebony orbs that stared back at him.
The horn in the center of the monster’s head began to glow with purple and green energy as she asked, “Why are you here? And why shouldn’t I kill you?”
Before Rotnart could stammer out a response, Rabuf got down on one knee and answered, “My brother and I are here to give you our tongues, oh great black opossum of the under castle.”
The black alicorn blinked. “What?”
Picking up on his brother’s garbled line of thinking, the older troll chimed in, “What he means, dark one, is that we have come a great distance to serve you.”
The pony didn’t answer, at least not with words. Instead the alicorn lowered her head and a beam of magic shot forth from her horn, entering the minds of the two trolls.
Moments later, after blinking away the after images of the blinding light, Rotnart heard the black pony say in a surprised voice, “No, I don’t believe it.”
Rabuf clutched his head, “Boss! Boss! Did she read my mind with magic? Oh my gosh, she can read!”
The pony rushed over to the organ and pressed a series of keys. A hole appeared in the ceiling, and Rotnart’s pack fell to the floor. The dark pony levitated the wooden Discord doll out of the bag. Her eyes widened. “So it’s true. You did turn him into a statue.” She laughed a little. “It seems destined for him to be frozen in some form or another.”
Puffing up his chest Rotnart declared, “Yeah, I turned him into a doll, and I’ll do the same to you if you don’t let us out of here.”
Without even turning around, the pony hit another key on the organ. An entire wall of the castle slid away to reveal all kinds of food stuffs, including shelf upon shelf of canned and powdered milk.
While still examining the statue, the pony asked, “You were saying?”
The troll king turned as white as the milk he was staring at. “I, uh, said I can do the same thing to your enemies, oh dark one.”
“Alright, milk! Boy am I thirsty,” Rabuf declared happily as he jogged towards the pantry.
“Rabuf, don’t drink the white stuff!” Rotnart yelled at his brother.
Stopping in the midst of upending an entire jar of milk into his mouth, Rabuf moaned, “Aw, boss, you’re never any fun. . .”
“Just drink the crap next to it.”
Rabuf obeyed and began drinking jar after jar of vinegar.
The alicorn glanced at the younger troll. “He’s a few phases short of a full moon, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea,” Rotnart replied, as Rabuf began to eat the glass jars.
“I’ll make a deal with you, troll,” the alicorn hissed. “In exchange for not killing you, you must get rid of six particular ponies for me.”
The troll king grimaced. “Oh great, there’s more of you? How many %^*#ing horses are there?”
In response, the alicorn shot another lance of magic at the two trolls. Their minds were filled with a multitude of images and information about the world they were in. Rotnart staggered under the weight of knowledge that the pony had given him. “Holy crap.” He looked at the alicorn with new respect.
Rabuf said, “Oh, wow. Ponies eat a lot of cake.”
“Yes, and I recommend you corrupt the Tree of Harmony fully before you attempt to take on the six,” the alicorn replied.
Rotnart pursed his huge lips together as he mumbled something incoherently.
“What did you say?” the Pony of Shadows asked.
The troll took a deep breath and tried again, but he could not force the words out of his mouth.
“What? Spit it out!” she ordered.
Rabuf let out a huge belch and declared, “He still can’t read the book that tells him how to do that.”
Rotnart closed his eyes and nodded his head in shame.
The Pony of Shadows levitated the book out of Rotnart’s bag and flipped through it. Frowning, she turned the book upside down. After flipping through a few more pages, she handed the book to Rotnart. “Try reading the book right side up. It helps.”
Rabuf roared with laughter and wet himself as Rotnart turned several shades of scarlet.
In-between gales of laughter, the younger troll howled, “Oh sweet Trantor. That’s funny. Even a dummy like me could have figured that one out.”
“Shut up,” the older troll commanded. “You probably would have just ate the damn thing before looking at it.”
“Naw, I’d just use it for poo paper,” replied the younger troll happily.
Ignoring his brother, Rotnart cracked open the book and began skimming pages that used to be illegible. Satisfied, he snapped the book closed. “I accept your proposal.” Rotnart held out his hand to seal the deal.
She glared at the troll. “You’re lucky that I’m letting you keep those filthy things.”
Rotnart quickly withdrew his hand and stuffed it in his pocket.
The alicorn walked back to the organ and played a particularly horrifying note that made the troll king’s skin crawl. A tunnel opened behind him.
As the trolls made to leave, the Pony of Shadows called out, “Remember our agreement, troll. If you do not keep your end of the bargain, you can be assured of your swift end. I left a spell in both your minds should you fail me.”
Sweating, Rotnart turned. “Don’t worry. Those six are as good as wood now that I can read my book. And when I’m through with them, I’ll come for you.” Rotnart smiled as he mumbled that last sentence to himself.