Under the bridge sat Troll, hiding away from the bright face of the sun. That disgusting bright light hurting his eyes and boiling his skin, causing wrinkles and warts and all sorts of things. Nasty great ball heating the air so even taking a breath was a dare. Old Sol, up there, had drunk up the water. No river ran by, but only a trickle, not even enough to cover his toes.
He sat and he skulked, he sighed and he sulked, it was boring here under the bridge. He had sat here so long his bum had gone numb, and something insisted on scratching his back. He had emptied his nose and cleaned out his ears and his toes had no jam to offer.
'Summer, pah!' Troll grumbled, 'I hates it I do. Sticky and warm and tickling me nose. What I needs is something to do to take me mind off this thing. Blood to spill or bones to crush, all that lovely stuff trolls do.'
To add to his misery his stomach complained, rumbling and grumbling and giving him pain. Empty, so empty and nothing to eat, not even a spider, a bug or a worm. As if to torment him the breeze sent a sound, the bleating of goats across the river. The tastiest, juiciest goats he could imagine sweetened and fattened on the greenest green grass.
Images tormented him of fat, tasty goats, leaping and jumping just out of reach. Ever he groped and ever they leapt, away through his fingers and over the bridge. He woke with a jerk to the noise of his tummy, gurgling its hunger and pain out so loud.
'Shut up you big berk,' he yelled at his gut, 'there's nothing to do while big yellow's about.'
Troll he did freeze, sitting and listening, as still as he could possible be. He swore he heard a noise just overhead, a tripping and trapping of hooves on the bridge. With a roar and a yell he leapt from the shadows, up to the bridge where he spied a fine fellow. And snatching it up he swallowed it down, the hooves and the bones and the blood all together.
Back under the bridge, he felt so much better. His stomach so happy it let out a belch. He blew out a breath, feeling replete with the nice taste of goat there on his teeth. He sat back quite drowsy thinking of sleep when there on the bridge hooves tripping and trapping. Without stopping to think he was back on the bridge and right there in front of him trotted a goat. With watering mouth he gobbled it up, the hooves and the bones and the blood all together.
Under the bridge again he scrambled, away from the sun and into the shade. Settling back with his belly so swollen , not one but two goats filling his tum. Life couldn't get better than this, a nice shady bridge and a meal just for one. To top it all off he would nap until dark, then off he would go crashing and stamping and causing a rumpus, rioting and routing and all those lovely things trolls do. A tripping and trapping interrupted his dreams. Onto the bridge he clambered so eagerly, licking his lips oh so greedily. But Troll just stood and stared this time at the goat that stood on the bridge.
Huge horns curved back over his head and he glared at Troll with spitting red eyes. Flames and smoke spewed from his nostrils and each large hand had a full set of claws. He stamped a cloven hoof and sparks shot about and over Troll he loomed.
'Come to eat me Troll, all my hooves and my bones and my blood all together? I sent you a goat to stop up your whining, it wasn't enough and you gobbled another. Two of my goats you have devoured, only one was meant for a meal. Troll, you committed a sin, today you gave in to sin of greed and now I can claim you as mine.'
Troll stood and stared up as the goat's maw opened wide, wider than anything could possibly be. Teeth he espied never before seen in the mouth of any goat, anywhere at all. The mouth widened still and now he could see deep down inside to the deepest abyss. There he could see souls swirling about in a maelstrom of horror and torture and terror. Darkness descended and clamped all about him, swallowing him whole, all his bones and his blood and his soul all together.