The Troll’s Torture Chamber

July 29, 2009

I am beginning to become genuinely quite frighened of the Cave Troll. I think he might be torturing people. I do not know this for sure. I still haven’t figured out his magic.  But today, people were down there with him, making a lot of noise, and then he brought them upstairs, and one definitely looked in pain. His trousers were slightly pulled down and he couldn’t bend one of his knees, so he kind of dragged his left leg when he walked. He has also clearly had his head attacked, as there was hair missing from odd places. I know what it feels to have one’s fur pulled, so I pitied him, I really did.

They were all outside. The Hippy was sitting out on the patio, smiling benevolently to herself as she nibbled on wine gums, whilst telling each one that it was beautiful.

“Do you see this shade of purple?”, she asked as My Dad and The Mushroom joined her, “It’s amazing.”

Man With Missing Hair joined them with The Cave Troll. The Cave Troll said nothing.

“Hello!”, said The Mushroom.

“Yo, how hangs it”, said Man With Missing Hair in what sounded like an Eastern European accent.

“This is MC Hardcopy”, said The Hippy, “He’s amazing.”

“So”, asks my Dad, “What do you do?”

“I’m a rapper.”, says Man With Missing Hair.

“That’s your actual job title?”, asks my Dad.

“What?”, says Man With Missing Hair.

“Where are you from?”, asks the Mushroom, perhaps hoping that this question will not cause so much confusion.

“Poland”, replies Man With Missing Hair.

“And what do you rap about?”, asks my Dad.

“The Ghetto”, replies Man.

My Dad and The Mushroom stare. The Baby says, “Apoo”. I lick my tail. Man With Missing Hair continues to limp around the patio.

“Got any Peppermint tea?”, he asks.

So, I ask myself, what kind of torture had the Cave Troll inflicted that made this man, a) limp, b) have his clothes on crooked, c) have chunks missing out of his fur and d) shout a lot in the basement? I don’t know, is the answer. Nor do I know what a ‘rapper’ is. I do, however, suspect that there are no ghettos in Poland, but that is just a guess because I’ve never been.

The Cave Troll sat, brooding, mumbling about wanting meatballs and the fact that he apparently can’t have them as they have ‘too much sodium’. I don’t know what ‘sodium’ is either.

‘Meatballs are amazing’, said The Hippy.

So, I clearly have a mission. Or, indeed, a Smörgåsbord of missions. There are as follows:

1. Find out what is happening in the basement by way of spying on The Troll.

2. Find out what a ‘rapper’ is.

3. Find out what ‘sodium’ is.

4. Find out if ‘rapper’ and ‘sodium’ are in any way connected to The Troll’s magic.

5. Catch something bigger than a frigging spider.

It makes me tired just thinking about it. Best have a nap.


2 Responses to “The Troll’s Torture Chamber”

  1. Lorie said

    It just keeps getting better and better… i think you are getting into your stride now. hilarious!!

  2. face said

    This is the best blog I’ve ever read. Zeebling, what a very accomplished cat you are. I haven’t laughed this much in ages.

    We have mice. You’re very welcome to them.

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