Today I have to relate an investigation to you that I hoped I’d never have to talk about again. This is the story of the time my friends saved me from getting gang-raped by a group of trolls.
For many of you, your only knowledge of trolls comes from movies like 1986’s Troll or the triumph of modern cinema, Ernest Scared Stupid. Either way, trolls have been somewhat misrepresented in modern media. In fact, they’ve become so obscure that even the most open-minded of paranoid schizophrenics generally don’t believe in their existence. And I guess I used to be the same way until I saw one.
While the plot of Ernest Scared Stupid is mostly about how Jim Varney can make weird exaggerated faces into a camera, it fails to mention a troll’s insatiable sexual appetite.
DISCLAIMER: This story in Not Safe for Work. Shit’s about to get weird up in here. It also in no way permits you to send me your illustrations or weird erotic troll fanfic stories, you creepy freak.
Some town legends claim that Chesterville was built on a desecrated Indian burial ground. There’s a massive hill on the East side of town that’s supposedly a burial mound used hundreds of years ago. Well, one night, Mark, Ryan, Natalie and I decided to make a trip there to see if we could encounter any Native American ghosts. I’d heard about sightings before, but never seen them myself.
We were about fifty yards away from the mound in an open stretch of land when we saw something was already there.
“Woah, get down,” I whispered, and we all dropped to the ground and watched.
It was small, maybe the size of an eight-year-old boy, but wide and muscular. The short creature was waddling its way toward the burial mound and hadn’t noticed us. It was pawing at its crotch as it walked and before our very eyes, it fell back to the ground and started masturbating furiously.
“What. The. Fuck?” Natalie said, as the thing made whimpering noises like a dog trying to bite at its fleas.
“Maybe we should just skip this one and go home,” Ryan said.
“What is it, though?” I said, not knowing I’d regret my curiosity.
“It looks like a bald troll doll,” Mark said.
“A troll?” Ryan questioned.
“So like us,” I said, trying not to watch as the troll had its private time. “So like us.”
“Dude, seriously,” Ryan said. “Let’s just go. This is weird.”
Finally, the troll stood up and crawled into a hole in the side of the hill.
“Let’s follow it,” I said… What an idiot I was…
I got up and made for the hill, not bothering to wait for the others. After a moment’s consideration they followed after me.
I found the hole that the troll had crawled through and looked back at my friends.
“I think we should go inside,” I said.
“I think you need to up the medication,” Natalie said.
“Come on,” I said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Why would you say that?” Mark said. “Every time anyone says, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ All Hell ends up breaking loose!”
“Dude, this isn’t a movie,” I said. “You can tell the difference between reality and film, right?” And I crawled into the hole, dropping down a few feet into a dimly lit cave. A tunnel had been carved out, descending deeper and deeper into the earth as it went on.
“Guys,” I called up to them. “What are you waiting for?”
So they dropped down after me, and we walked down the dark tunnel.
At the end was a massive cavern so expansive that we couldn’t see the other side.
“What do you think-,” I began, before four trolls blindsided me at once. At first, they punched at me with their tiny fists, but then I felt them trying to unbuckle my belt, and humping my legs furiously. It was probably the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced. I felt my belt come loose, just before my friends came to the rescue.
Because the trolls were so small, they were quite easy to pick up and toss away. I saw the tiny bald creatures go flying across the giant room, and I got to my feet in time to punt the last little perverted monster so far that I could have won the Super Bowl with my kick.
Instead of risking another violation of my ‘no sex with trolls’ rule, we ran back up the tunnel and crawled outside. On our trip home, I expressed my disgust with the creatures, and Ryan and Mark talked about how it didn’t seem that bad, and that they wished they had been in my situation, because they’re incredibly gay. And they certainly didn’t make fun of me for the next few days over my almost-troll-rape, because they would have enjoyed it…
I’ve had to live with the fact that I’m an incredibly sexy man my entire life, but it’s never burdened me so much as it did on that night.
If the troll in Ernest Scared Stupid had been realistic, the movie would have been called, Ernest Attends Years of Psychological Therapy after Repressing the Memory of Being Anally Violated by a Group of Tiny Monsters and After Intense Shock Therapy is now Scared Stupid Every Time He Sees a Lawn Gnome. But the plot would have been too similar to Ernest Goes to Jail.
(Spoiler Alert: Ernest is graphically sodomized for 96 minutes, and it’s still better than Ernest Goes to School.)