There once was a fellow named Arthur The Troll
who lived very close to the top of a knoll.
He did not like to bathe and drooled a bunch
‘cause he chewed on a big wad of Skoal.
Arthur The Troll was quite ugly, you see,
with a mottled complexion like bark on a tree.
and had AN INCREDIBLY MASSIVE green schnoz!
That was hung with a booger as big as a pea.
Well the main stagecoach road ran over Troll hill
So steep was the incline many horses were killed
as they struggled to pull the stagecoaches over the top
Of course, the drivers and riders were not very thrilled.
But many times, as often as not, whenever the wagon wheels started to stop,
just when everyone thought they wouldn’t make it over the top...
Arthur The Troll would stroll out to watch
and the horses would bolt, with a neigh and a plop!
Which carried the stagecoaches over the rise
the fleet-footed horses had fear in their eyes.
And the people were scared by the monster-like Troll,
outlandish tales of his ugliness grew in their lies.
The one day a stagecoach stalled near the summit
started to roll back - some thought it would plummet.
For once Arthur did not scare the horses to action.
The ladies all screamed and the men shouted DADGUMMIT!
Then momentum took over and put the wheels near the cliff
when suddenly they stopped just in time...just as if...
a superhero had saved them, and he did, from their deaths,
they all took a deep breath and got a big whiff.
The hero was Arthur - he was strong, but he stank.
But he’d stopped the runaway wagon with a stout wooden plank.
Though repulsive and scary, folks were very happy to see him.
It was Arthur the Troll that they had to thank!
Which everyone did while holding their noses
(while wishing instead they were smelling some roses).
But they still called him Bad (because of his smell)
and that, my dear friends, is where this story closes.
* for Carol Eastman and her dad as they fight the battle