Come, sit by the nice warm glow of burning troll.
We have coffee.
It is harmless, honest.
Needs some sort of “lost in the woods” folklore woven around it.
When possible, I've been processing and freezing choice Troll
flanks, chucks and backstraps. Not every time, but a few.
I hope to cut 'em up and serve 'em on skewers at the next shoot.
True story. With Sriracha.
I absolutely would not mind sitting around a nice, burning, glowing troll with you two for a long evening’s
chat in a scary forest full of weird noises and luminescent eyeballs staring at us the entire time... Sigh!