You Gotta Pay the Troll’s Toll

“Who comes for my ideas?” The troll yawned. “Lazy humans,” it said, stretching its elongated limbs, taught muscles squirming under gray-green flesh. It looked like a mossy statue of some sinuous frog-man.

“We’ve come to pass, not for ideas,” I shouted across the tiny river that divided us from the oily-skinned creature. “Plenty ideas of our own between me and my pa here besides.”

“This is… unusual.”

“I’ll offer two silver coins for the passing.” I held them overhead, metal disks glinting in the twilight. “One for each of us.”

“Hmm… most come for our—”

“You’ve nothing worth stealing,” I said, calmly stepping onto the bridge. “But for this!” I screamed, tackling the lithe, slimy troll and pinning it with surprising strength.

“Tolls!” I hollered, smirking down at my catch. “We’ll be managing this bridge from here on out. Walk away, or else… understand?”

“Jeren, what are you—”

“It’s alright, Pa,” I said, slowly releasing the troll.

“Hmm,” the creature grumbled, untangling its lanky appendages and sauntering off, never looking over its lichen-ridden shoulders.

“See that, Pa? Got us a toll bridge!” I smiled up at his wide-eyed, horrified face. “Passive income!” I added, hopping with excitement. “Happy Father’s Day!”