troll

There was nothing like a good days trolling thought Marvin the Troll as he sat eating half a billy goat watching the fisherman further down the bank fish himself out of the water.

Marvin chuckled to himself. Maybe he should have read the sign, “No Fishing”, the fish in the river weren’t renown for their hospitality. Least they hadn’t ripped of his trousers and nicked all his fishing gear like the last chap.

Marvin glanced at his sundial watch. Blank again. He gave it a gentle tap. Nothing. Marvin sighed. He never could get it to work under the bridge.

Death smiled. It was the sort of smile, which although well intended looked like the grin of an angry bulldog about to eat an unwary postman.

“Hello”, said Death charmingly as he could.

Emily froze before the high-pitched scream belted out her mouth.

Death winched, she sounded just like Mable, the banshee Death had once dated until she got the hump with Death wearing his Gucci ear mufflers all the time.

This was the problem with human women marked Death, they got so excited they died on the spot. Maybe the Troll outfit wasn’t such a good idea after all.