one time i had a dream that my uncle cuthred discovered that the unpleasant troll had returned. it was around christmas time. the troll had seemingly disappeared into the woodwork, or better yet, uncle cuthred thought, moved on to another location.
however, that morning, when he was on his way to breakfast, uncle cuthred found the unwelcome troll sitting in the conservatory poking the hall boy with the his middle fingers. the hall boy did not particularly enjoy this, but was unable to make the troll stop.
uncle cuthred told the troll that he had hoped it had left permanently. the troll smiled and said that he had never left. he had been there for months, spending most of his days in the spear closet and wild nights in the kitchen. my pet fish bubbles said that he thinks that the troll is actually a kobold because he enjoyed the kitchens so much, but uncle cuthred always maintained, in his writings anyway, that it was a troll.
now, i may not be very expert on trolls and kobolds, or kitchens and closets, but i do know about mustard. uncle cuthred was very clear on how he rid himself of the troll (or kobold,
s'il vous plaît, monsieur le poisson) and if anyone is willing to listen, with some modicum of patience, i shall explain his method. some might prefer, i suspect, that i engage in lengthy recollections of the troll's genealogy, or that, in the interest of verisimilitude, i tell you the measurements of it's foot size. there will no doubt be howls of complaint that i make no effort to explain how the troll came to this part of the world, thereby providing not only a minor troll saga but also a description of local geography in nauseating detail. and alas, i shall disappoint many that i do not provide the conversation of the troll in his original
lingua dii inferi -or at least provide a table with the principal declensions of that tongue.
if there is one thing that all trolls universally despise, it is sore throats and muscle aches. it seems this troll who was haunting uncle cuthred had, on this particular morning, both of these conditions. apparently, the day before the trolls had held their annual "day of darkness" tug o'war contest. this troll had worn out his voice screaming and pulling in the competition. uncle cuthred, although in every respect a gentleman, was not going to let a situation where he had an advantage pass him by without making some effort to rid his household of this abominable creature.
uncle cuthred would have never considered himself a dickerer, but --because of his travels in the levant -- he had learned that the finer arts of the bargain are merely questions of elevated etiquette. accordingly, he knew how to act with both diplomacy and effectiveness, or rather he had learned that diplomacy is effectiveness (especially in the levant -- a lesson which bears some repeating on occasions where the conversation turns towards politicks and horse raising). so, i am sure that you will excuse him when he made the following proposal to the troll.
my uncle cuthred suggested that the troll might benefit from a poultice of mustard that would salve his sore limbs. he had an old family recipe for a very effective cataplasm. anyway, he offered to make a batch and give it to the troll, and also a dose of his sore throat remedy (made with mustard, honey, lemon juice, salt, and hot water), if the troll would be willing to end its in annoying haunting.
the troll agreed to the deal. they drank a glass of sore throat remedy to seal it and toast it. uncle cuthred personally went down to the kitchens and made up the plaster for the troll, who found it was, as uncle cuthred said, very effective.
i wish i could say this was the last the troll was seen or heard from, but it is not. he'd appear now and again. he was generally well behaved after this, but on occasions he'd fall back to his old habits. someone would have to remind him that he had promised not act annoyingly. he'd agree, compose himself, and apologize. typically he could be expected to act civilized after these little outbursts. it rarely happened around company which was a blessing, i suppose.
some people ask if my mustard is an old family recipe handed down for generations. uncle cuthred did leave his recipe for mustard in his journals. i've made it a few times, experimentally, but i don't think it is the most impressive -unless you have a troll infestation or a sore ankle.
