The Toll Troll

THE TOLL TROLL AND THE THREE LOCAL GOATS

A modern cautionary tale

 

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a peaceful little riverside village called WOT-ville, wherein lived many happy billy and nanny goats and their kids. Each day many of them wanted to go to the next village of POT-ville  to go about their daily business or to gambol on the lovely grass there.

            Between the villages of WOT-ville  and POT-ville  was a toll bridge over a beautiful river which they had to cross; and under the bridge lived a great ugly troll, with eyes as big as saucers and a nose as long as a poker.

            So first of all came the Mini from WOT-ville  to cross the bridge, with its dainty little nanny goat driver on her way to take her kids to school and do her shopping.

            “Bump! Bump! Bump!” went the humps on the bridge.

            “Who’s that bumping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

            “Oh, it is only Mini me,” the nanny goat in the tiny car said, “and I’m going to the  POT-ville  to take the kids to school and do the shopping at Summer Fields supermarket,” she said, with such a small voice. “Please let me pass.”

            “No, I’m coming to gobble you up unless you pay my new toll,” said the troll.

            “Oh, no! please don’t do that. I’m small and light,” said the nanny goat. “Wait a bit till the next goat comes. He’s much bigger.”

            “Alright. Be off with you,” said the troll. And he only charged her 20p.

            A little while after came the next vehicle to cross the bridge.

            “Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! “ went the humps on the bridge.

            “Who’s that bumping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

            “Oh, it’s only me, Transit goat, and I’m going to POT-ville  to get to work,” said the second billy goat, who hadn’t such a small voice.

            “Now I’m coming to gobble you up unless you pay my new toll,” said the troll.

            “Oh, no! Don’t take me. Wait till the really big billy goat comes. He’s much bigger than me.”

            “Very well! Be off with you,” said the troll. And he only charged him an inflated 30p.

            But just then up came big Horse Box Billy.

“Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump!” went the bridge, for the billy goat with his big horse box was so heavy that the bridge creaked and groaned under him.

            “Who’s that bumping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

            “It’s I! Big Billy Goat Gruff,” said the billy goat, who had a loud hoarse voice.

            “Now I ‘m coming to gobble you up unless you pay my new toll,” roared the troll.

            And the big billy goat said:

“Well, come on then, do that!

I’ve got my support,
            And I’ll examine your treasure
            To see what you’ve bought.

 

The people have paid you,

Yet what have they got?

A bridge that needs mending

And a bottomless pot.

 

You’ve grown fat on our payments

And still ask for more,

And yet your accountants

Maintain you are poor.

 

You cannot be serious,

You’re having a laugh,

You must take us for asses

If you think we’re so daft!

 

So dig in your coffers

Reconsider  your goals:

Stop increasing the fee

And let the trolls pay the tolls.”

            And then he flew at the troll,  and head-butted him into the river, and after that he went Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump! happily over the bridge to POT-ville.

 

And the moral of the story is:

Trolls are greedy b*****s, but goats will be goats.

If you ask for too much, you’ll be burning your boats.