They called him the greatest storyteller of all time. He could tell a good rhyme, hated the taste of limes, and was much more interesting than a common mime. He could tell you the meaning of life (but only on Saturdays) and weave a web much stronger than any spider. A chipmunk once told me about how he challenged a black widow to a match. He went and spun her up into quite the mess and fed her to a family of flies. However, if I ever had a point in this tale of mine, then that is all quite besides it.
This storyteller was a rather philosophical fool who would dance on the moon, whistle a tune, and was much crazier than a loon. His name was Mr. Josephine, or Joe for short, and each and everyday he would treat the world to his tales. He would tell tall tales and small tales, and everything in between. There was seldom a day he wouldn't be informing someone about the lives of dragons or mermaids, princes or paupers. There was seldom a day he wasn't without a story or wasn't telling one to some poor chap on the street. However, those days did come, and it was such a tragedy when they did. The price of tea in China would skyrocket and butterflies in Mexico would fly just a little bit slower. Such a sadness would envelope the land on days when Josephine was out of town, and this tale I'm telling you is about such a day.
On a day after tomorrow and before today, he was looking for some socks (you know how much fun that can be). He was on his way to the Sock Store when two hungry trolls wandered down the road. "Hello," he said bowing down to the ground and tapping the dirt with his nose. "How do you do?"
This simple greeting to you and I would seem like anything along the lines of ordinary, but to two very hungry trolls, it would seem almost insulting and would perceived as an invitation to being eaten.
"Wee R fine," the first troll announced, his tongue lolling down below his chin and licking his shirt collar. "Wee bee doin' etter if you com' to rek-fast wit' uz."
Joe, starving because he hadn't had his breakfast yet and cold because his feet were without socks, stupidly began to follow the trolls to their home for food. "Alrighty then Mr. Troll. I will dine with you. But soon I must leave you because I am on a gallant quest for socks," our funny friend told the trolls.
The two trolls and our silly Joe strolled along the road, out into the forest, down an unbeaten path, and into a large cave. The cave was littered with bones and dry leaves. "They must get cheap rent here," Joe mumbled half to himself and half to the walls of the cave.
"Lay down on da round an get eddy for rek-fast," one of the trolls said while unstrapping a knife from his belt. Joe looked up at the trolls (for they were very much taller than our poor friend) rather bewildered and distraught.
"But I haven't even washed my hands yet, and nor have you," he said clapping his dirty hands together and showering the front of his coat with soot. The trolls followed suit and covered the whole group of them with mud and grime. "Now this won't do. How can we eat when we are all this bloody filthy?"
The trolls looked at each other, hungry for some man-meat but almost comprehending what he was saying. "Ther' iz a stre'm nearby we tan bath inn," one of them stated. Following that statement, all three of them stumbled off into the woods to find themselves the stream. They washed themselves and scrubbed their hands so harshly they turned a bright red. Once they were finished and had returned to the cave, the troll that had spoken before asked, "Sow now R Wee eddy to hav' rek-fast?"
Josephine looked up at the trolls twice as confused as before and said, "Have breakfast now? Thats an absurd idea! How can How can we have breakfast nowHow are we to have breakfast without a dining table? Or napkins? It's loopy." The trolls scratched their heads and stared at the roof of their cave.
"Wher' doo Wee gett A tab-lee?" they both asked the storyteller.
Well, the storyteller looked back at them square in the eyes and replied, "Well we have to make one of course! Here, you take that pretty, sharp knife of yours and cut some boards for a table. I'll sit here and sew some napkins out of my coat." The trolls, still rather hungry from going without breakfast that morning but strangely willing enough to comply with Joesephine's wishes, searched the ground in front of the cave for some thick logs to cut for a table. Joe ripped off three small pieces of his coat, took a needle and some thread out of his pocket, and began to sew around the corners of it to make a few napkins.
"Wee hav' mad' tab-leez," the trolls said a handful of hours later. By this time is was mid-afternoon and the trolls stomachs rumbled so loudly with hunger that they shook all the leaves off the nearby trees. "U hav' mad' app-kins sow now Wee eat-a!"
Just as he said this though, a family of bears happened to be feasting on berries outside of the cave's entrance. "I see some good food for breakfast over there. Do you two enjoy bear-meat? How about we have bears for breakfast?" the storyteller asked the trolls.
As everyone who has even a quarter ounce of sense in their heads and a belly ache from hunger knows, bear-meat is much tastier than man-meat. With this noted you can almost see how broad the grin was on the trolls' faces when they spotted an entire family of bears. Without much further ado the trolls whipped out their knives and ran after the poor unsuspecting bears. They killed the whole batch of them, dragged them into the cave, and threw them onto the table. The poorly fashioned table buckled under the weight and came crashing to ground with quite a grand kerplop!
"That's okay, I don't much like tables anyway," Joe said as he searched around the table wreckage for a napkin. The trolls laughed as they began to rip off a few bear legs to chomp down on. "Wait, don't you prefer cooked bear-meat as opposed to having it raw?"
The trolls scratched their heads and one of them said, "Weell, raww met doez giv' mee gazz . . . "
With that, our silly little friend and the trolls began to gather pieces of the table to make a fire. A few moments later they had a roaring fire going and enough roasted bear-meat to go around for all three of them. They swapped jokes and even played a game of cards (Joe always won of course but the trolls didn't mind). Soon the sun began to set and the trolls' breakfast drew to a close. "Well, it's been a very interesting day today Mr. Trolls! I hope to enjoy many more of them later down the road with you both but now I must be off," Joe said with a bow.
The two trolls, completely forgetting that they had originally planned on eating the poor storyteller early that day, returned the gesture and even walked Joe home that evening. As Mr. Josephine settled down for sleep in his cozy little bed at his cozy little home he came to remember one upsetting thing. From all the hustle and bustle from his breakfast with the two trolls, our storyteller friend had forgotten to buy socks for his poor cold feet at the Sock Store in town. With a short chuckle to himself and a quick adjustment of the blankets to get a bit warmer, Joe fell into dreamland that night with a full belly, and a smile on his face.