Little Jack was crossing the bridge the other day and there was a troll under it. He noticed the sign said, “Don’t feed the Troll” by the side of the road and thought to himself, now who would do something foolish like that?
As trolls are, the nasty dirty horrible troll under the bridge spotted him and called out to the boy, “Hey you! You with the ugly face! Where you get that shirt? Did your mummy got it for you at the little’s girl’s shop? I got your mother!” and he laughed loudly.
Little Jack was furious. He picked up a rock and threw it at the troll. “Shut up you! You will not talk to me like that.”
“Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?”
“Yeah that’s what I thought.” Said the troll looking satisfied.
So little Jack went down to town and found the town sherrif and he complained to the Sheriff about the troll.
“Did you read the sign?”
“Yeah I did.”
“What it say?”
“Don’t feed the Troll.”
“Right. Don’t.” said the Sherrif. “He’s chained out there and all he can do is hurl his insults. Don’t feed him and you’ll be fine.”
Later that day, he had to cross the bridge to get home, again the troll hurled insult at him.
Jack picked up a rock and hurled it back at the troll. And laughed at him, “Haha! You are the one chained down here and you can’t really get me.”
The Troll looked up and said nothing for the first time.
The next morning, he was crossing the bridge and quite expected the Troll to appear and insult him. And he did.
Jack thought to himself. He can’t get at me. He’s chained down there. I’ll just stone him and maybe I can get a few others to do it with me. I’m sure everyone has been offended by him and would be more than glad to help me. Afterall, the Sheriff won’t do anything about It.
And so off he went.
He gathered eager folks from the town and they all went to the bridge with stones to hurl at the troll.
They hurled stones at him and he hurled it back at them quite happily. Everyone went back home that day with bruises and cuts.
“We’ve nicked him.” Said the townsfolk.
“We certainly did.” Said Jack.
The next day, they did it again.
And so on.
And so on.
On the fourth day, the Sheriff gathered the towns people, and said to them, “Look at yourselves. Cuts and bruises and all. Didn’t I tell you not to feed the troll?”
“We’re not feeding him. We’re stoning him.”
“Exactly the same thing. He’s under there and harmless. There’s nothing under the bridge but water. You hurled the stones, you gave him the stones to throw it back at you. Meantime, he’s getting stronger, especially with all that exercise.”
“We’re going to kill him eventually. He’s not going to able to take our collective hatred forever.” Said Jack.
And the Sheriff asked him in return, “What do you think trolls eat anyway?”