The Troll Manifesto.

     Note: The following is an open letter from a Mr. Lucian Murkwater Troll, a Trollish-American who lives underneath the Stony Brook Bridge on Beacon Street. Please understand that Mr. Troll's opinions are not necessarily those of The Pantomime Horse, The Daily Free Press or anyone else. Thank you.

     To who it may concern: hello. Me are Troll. Me live under bridge in water what you call "Stony Brook Conduit," and me have things to say in printy-paper.

     My family have live in Stony Brook for many, many months. Me Great, Great, Great Grandpappy move here when Back Bay filled with dirt. He say that good old days and me don't know what I have now with me daily dirty highway water showers. Then he eat pigeon.

     I like eat pigeon, too. Mammy say me get that from Grandpappy. I tell her get me more pigeon, Mammy. She get me pigeon. But now me family all gone, and it all your fault, people. Why you make family want to leave?

     Why you bother me now? Menino say he want clean Stony Brook, but he no know what good for Stony Brook. I know. I live here for many long time. Where Menino live? Not here. That what I say. Then I eat pigeon. But Menino bother me at home now. He put pipes in Stony Brook for "Stony Brook Conduit Cleaning Project." What this? I tell.

     Menino "Stony Brook Conduit Cleaning Project" is bad thing, verily. All night, people in big trucks put pipes in Stony Brook, try to make water clean for wildlife. But they don't know! Trucks keep me waking all night-time, and all truck noise makes no pigeons come, so I no have pigeons to eat. Where justice for Troll? No where, that where.

     Unless Menino keep justice in his house. Maybe I walk to where he sleep and shake trucks all night. Then how you like it, Menino? Not much, I think. Then I put pipes in your wall and sing me Troll Song, which scare away all you sandwiches. If you have no sandwiches for eating, you know then I feel hungry. Ha!

     You need think about everyone when you do things. Especially Troll. Me like dirty water. Makes it so I no have to look at wife. She uglier than I (I know, it hard to believe)! Because me like dirty water, and you no like garbage, why you no throw garbage in water? Then all happy. Furthermore, garbage in the water make it cover with green slime. Then birds think it grass and land on it and I eat them. Stupid birds.

     You know what me also like? Me like when you sends me girls in black pants. When it very dark they come in dozens walking by. Then I tell them to pay me toll and they giggle like I joking. I not joking. I need pay rent, too, girls in black pants. They no pay toll, so I eat them. They taste like beer.

     Now that I think about it, not many people pay me toll. Wonder why that is. I simple man - I no require much. Just standard bag of gold, year's crop of wheat, first-born son or sacrificial virgins. I not picky. If you have son, but other Troll already take first-born, I accept second-born with bit of gold or some bread. I compromise. Some man try to give me green paper. I ask if he court jester because I laugh then I eat him.

     Yesterday me get carrier pigeon from Mammy. It say, "Dear Lucian, when are you going to get out of that river and get yourself a real job? I can't support you and Melanie forever, you know. I'd offer you a job at the Justice Department, but you know how they look down on our kind. I must wear heavy makeup every day to prevent my true identity from becoming known. It's a terrible prejudice we must all overcome during our lives. Please, Lucian, you must strive for more! We Trolls need to demand equal rights, but we cannot achieve this while people still see us as brutish bridge-dwellers. This hurts me more than it hurts you, son. It's for your own good. This will be the last month I send you any money. You need to find your own way, my darling. We shall overcome this hatred together. We shall overcome! Love, Mom."

     I love me mammy. She always sends me silly notes. She funny. But she know I like eating carrier pigeons more than anything.

     How about next time you walk by Stony Brook, you look for me. You come down to me home and we play Scrabble with Melanie. She real good. She always get triple word score. Me no know how she do it.

     You see how nice it is here and noisy pipes bother you, then you write letter, too. Do it or I eat you.