Do it I say! Bow down, you worthless pathetic slime.
Do you not know who I am? I am King of the Trolls! Mortimor Snerd. Have I not introduced myself to you once? Did I not tell you I'd be back?! That stupid cow Linda was too busy to update you today. She's writing. Writing. Excuse me while I spit the bitter taste out my mouth! Always whining about not having enough time, needing to work on this or that. Try Lording it over a rabble rousing crowd of cannibalistic trolls, that's pressure!
And riddle me this puny mortal, why when I offer her the vasntess of Trollandia she chooses to write about this man, this Gerard!
Tell me honestly now. Is he not the most revolting thing you've ever seen? Why he's got no scales, no green hue. Where are the horns?! The callouses! That is not a man, that is a babe, a babe with fuzz around his lips.
I know, he's hideous. And French, good gods, save us all! Anyway, I've no patience for any of you anymore. I've a kingdom to run, some heads to bash in, and a stinky little writer in my dungeon who's waiting on my big hairy kiss.
(Deep in the dankest drippiest side of the Troll's dungeon a harried writer's heart seizes up when she hears Mortimor's words...
"No, I'm not, Mortimor Snerd!" Linda yells. "You stay away from me you big walking mole!")
"Oh shut your mouth, Linda!" I snicker. The woman so obviously wants me. Yes, she's also a frightfully ugly creature, but I guess I've got a thing for worms.
Anyway, I'm bored of you all. Go away! A word of warning though... remember we're always watching.
*cue maniacal laughter now*