by David Lewman
Out in the hallway, the Trolls were discussing the presentation.
“Okay, first of all,” said Satin, “when we sang those harmonies at the beginning, we sounded AMAZING!”
“AMAZING!” Chenille echoed, totally agreeing with her sister.
“Guy, your glitter cannons were wonderful!” Biggie said. “So much glitter!”
“Aw, thanks,” Guy said modestly. “The secret is packing in twice the recommended amount of glitter.”
“Cooper,” Biggie said, “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a balloon squeal that loudly! That was AWESOME!” The others agreed.
“Thanks, Biggie,” Cooper said. “You did a really good job of describing Tickle Day.”
Biggie looked doubtful. “They didn’t seem to like it very much.”
“But that wasn’t your fault,” Cooper said. “Maybe Bergens just don’t like tickles. Or possibly spiders.”
While the other Trolls happily jabbered on about how well the presentation was going, Branch took Poppy aside for a serious talk.
“Uh, Poppy,” he said, “this whole thing has been great.”
Poppy smiled. “Thank you.”
“And you’re great for doing it.”
“Thank you again!”
“But it’s a disaster.”
“Thank y— Wait, what?” Poppy said, confused. She’d thought the presentation had been going really well. Sure, Gristle and Bridget hadn’t warmed to any of the holidays they’d presented so far, but it was just a matter of showing them the right holiday.
“You know that wise old saying, ‘Go big or go home’?” Branch asked. “Maybe we should go–”
“BIGGER!” Poppy cried, cutting him off.
“Okay, that’s not what I meant.” Branch sighed.
Poppy turned to the other Trolls to pump them up for the second round of their holiday presentation. “So far today, we have done GREAT! You guys have been ABSOLUTELY AWESOME!”
The Trolls whooped and cheered.
“But when we go back in there, I need you to be EVEN AWESOMER! CAN YOU DO THAT FOR ME? WHAT DO YOU SAY?”
“WE CAN DO IT!” the Trolls cheered. “WE CAN BE EVEN AWESOMER!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Poppy said, clapping her hands and smiling. “Cooper, crank up the music! I want it to BLAST!”
“You got it, Pop-Dog!” Cooper said.
“Guy Diamond, did you double-pack your glitter cannons?” Poppy asked.
“Oh, yes, I most certainly did!” Guy Diamond declared.
“Well, now I want you to TRIPLE-pack ’em!” Poppy said, pumping her fist.
“Oh, YEAH!” Guy Diamond agreed, nodding energetically.
“Um, is that safe?” Biggie asked anxiously.
“We’ll find out!” Poppy said, laughing. Fuzzbert tugged on Poppy’s sleeve with his hair.
“Yes, Fuzzbert?” she asked.
Fuzzbert let out a string of grunts and mumbles, muffled by the long green hair that covered his body. Poppy wasn’t sure, but he seemed to be asking a question.
“Well, Fuzzbert,” she answered, hesitating, “I would say…DOUBLE IT!”
Fuzzbert seemed satisfied with this answer. He nodded with his whole body and laughed.
“Okay, remember: speed, energy, and big smiles! Ready?” Poppy said to her friends. “LET’S TOTALLY DO THIS!”
They burst back into the throne room, running, skipping, and dancing across the chamber to their stage, pumping their fists in the air.
Bridget tried to get Poppy’s attention. “Um, Poppy, I was wondering if maybe I could talk to you in private for a sec—”
HOOOOOONK! An ear-piercing blast from an air horn cut Bridget off. A loud bass beat kicked in, and thundering music started to play. The Trolls loudly sang in harmony, “HOLIDAY…PART TWO!”
Poppy leapt onto the stage. “Welcome back! We hope you enjoyed the first part of our presentation, but that was just an appetizer! Get ready to sit back, relax, and savor the main course, ’cause READY OR NOT, HERE IT COMES!”
Bridget and Gristle sank into their thrones and sighed. Barnabus crawled off to the farthest corner of the hall and covered his ears again.
Guy Diamond jumped to the center of the stage. “This holiday is one of my very favorites, and I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna be one of yours, too!”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Gristle muttered to Bridget.
“So give it up for Epic Hug Ball Day!” Guy Diamond continued. “The day when Trolls enjoy a GREAT BIG BALL OF HUGS!”
The other Trolls rolled across the stage in a big ball, hugging each other. Guy Diamond jumped on, joining the hug ball. As they rolled offstage, he shouted, “And that’s Epic Hug Ball Day!”
Mere seconds after the big ball of hugging Trolls rolled away, Poppy reappeared on the stage.
“Then there’s SHOCK A FRIEND DAY!” she announced. “That’s the holiday when you rub your feet on a rug…”
“…and TOUCH EVERYONE YOU LOVE!” the other Trolls shouted.
Smidge tossed a small rug onto the stage. She rubbed her feet rapidly back and forth on the rug, then extended her long hair out to touch King Gristle. ZAP! A bright spark ignited between her hair and his skin.
“YEOWTCH!” Gristle cried, his hair standing on end.
Branch took center stage and spoke directly to Gristle and Bridget. “There’s a very special holiday called SOCK DAY!” he said. “We spend the whole day celebrating—you guessed it—SOCKS!”
The other Trolls danced onto the stage wearing socks on their feet, hands, and heads. They balled up the socks and threw them at each other, laughing. Then they took off all the socks and threw them at Gristle, covering him. He wrinkled his nose, pushing the dirty socks away.
Poppy ran into the spotlight. “You can have a great time on TEAR-AWAY PANTS DAY! It’s the day when everyone wears tear-away pants! Show ’em, Biggie!”
Biggie strutted out into the spotlight. Instead of his usual purple shorts, he wore long plaid pants. He reached down and—RRRRRRIP!—tore them off!
Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to put on underpants.
Shocked, Gristle covered Bridget’s face. Then his own. (And he’d thought the glitter and foam in his eyes were bad!)
Branch jumped in front of Biggie, whose blue skin was blushing red.
“Let me tell you all about GOOD-LUCK TROLL DAY!” he said, shuffling to the side so Biggie could slip backstage and put on his next costume. “Or, in your case, GOOD-LUCK BERGEN DAY! First, you put a shiny pink jewel in your belly button—”
Holding a bazooka over his shoulder, Cooper took careful aim at King Gristle’s belly button. FWOOMP! He fired, and a bright pink gem sailed through the air, landing in Gristle’s navel.
“Ooof!” Gristle grunted.
“Next,” Branch continued, “everybody rubs that belly jewel for luck!”
Several Trolls ran over to Gristle, climbed up, and rubbed the pink jewel lodged in his belly button.
“Rub it! Rub it! Rub it! Rub it!” they chanted as Gristle watched, mystified.
“How is this lucky?” Gristle asked. “Having a bunch of people rub your stomach?”
But the holiday descriptions just kept coming, fast and furious. Poppy and the Trolls described EXPRESS YOURSELF DAY (when Trolls let their opinions fly), KEEP IT TO YOURSELF DAY (when Trolls shut their mouths), MOSH-O-RAMA (when Trolls all leap into mosh pits), and FIREWORKS DAY (when Trolls shoot off even more fireworks than they do on all their other holidays). Cooper lit so many fireworks, Todd and Chad were afraid the throne room was on fire. They ran in with a bucket of water and threw it on Gristle and Bridget. SPLOOSH!
The Trolls kept going, energetically presenting holiday after holiday. BLEEPY SOUND DAY, when everyone speaks in bleeps to each other! REFLECTION DAY, to think about what life’s really all about! For RANDOM TATTOO DAY, the Trolls gave Gristle a tattoo on his lower back that read HUG LIFE. ST. SLAPTRICKS DAY, which celebrates pranks. (To demonstrate this holida
y, Fuzzbert slapped King Gristle right in the face with an extendable hand.) FUZZY SWEATER DAY, when everyone wears fuzzy, decorated sweaters. (The Trolls yanked sweaters down over Gristle’s and Bridget’s heads.)
“STOP!” Bridget finally yelled.
The Trolls froze, and everything was silent for a moment.
Shocked at her own outburst, Bridget gasped, “I used my outside voice!”
Poppy looked confused. “Why do you want us to stop, Bridget? Don’t you like any of our holidays?”
Bridget gave her head a tiny shake. “Poppy, all this glitter, and the sequins and balloons and tattoos—”
“Don’t forget the fuzzy sweaters!” Poppy said brightly.
“How could we?” Gristle wheezed in a tight voice, choked by his turtleneck sweater.
Bridget took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m saying is none of this really means anything to us.”
“Um, okay,” Poppy said, not exactly sure what her friend meant. “But I just want you to have something to celebrate.”
Bridget looked away. “Uh, Poppy, maybe it’s best if you go stand somewhere, like, where we’re not.”
“Oh, you mean like back here?” Poppy asked, moving to the back of the stage.
Bridget stammered uncomfortably, moving her head in a way that could have been a nod for “yes” or a shake for “no.” Poppy couldn’t tell. She took a few steps to the right. “Or here?”
“Mm-mmm…,” Bridget responded with another confusing head movement.
“Or like right here?” Poppy asked, moving to the left.
“Maybe farther?” Bridget said.
“Wait, are you mad at me?” Poppy asked.
“No, I’m not mad,” Bridget said. “I’m just feeling a feeling that’s the opposite of happy.”
Offstage, Branch and the other Trolls watched Poppy and Bridget.
“What is happening?” Biggie whispered to Branch.
“I dunno,” Branch whispered back. “It’s like they’re having the nicest fight ever.”
Poppy smiled brightly. “Bridge, I think I know what you’re trying to say to me.”
Bridget looked relieved. “Okay, good, because I really didn’t want to have to say it.”
“You want me…,” Poppy began.
“Mm-hmm,” Bridget said encouragingly.
“To step back…”
“Uh-huh…”
“…so we have room…”
“Yes!”
“…to show you more holidays!” Poppy said happily.
Bridget looked shocked. “What? No!”
“Like FUZZY LEG-WARMER DAY, or CHUG A JUG OF MILK DAY—” Poppy began.
“POPPY, ENOUGH!” Bridget interrupted.
Poppy was stunned by her friend’s sudden outburst. What could possibly be wrong?
“You’re not listening to me!” Bridget explained.
“I’m sorry,” Poppy apologized. “I just want you to be happy. What do you want me to do?”
Bridget looked down at the floor. “I…I think…I think you should leave.”
Poppy finally realized what Bridget had been trying to tell her all along.
“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” Looking hurt and stunned, she slowly exited the little stage. Then she ran out of the throne room and out of the castle.
That evening, Branch and the other Trolls searched for Poppy in the woods surrounding Bergen Town. They were worried about their beloved queen. Where had she gone?
“Poppy?” Satin and Chenille called. “Poppy!”
“Poppy!” Guy Diamond yelled in his shimmery voice. “Where are you, Poppy?”
Branch noticed a shrub that looked different from all the other bushes around it. It was bright pink.
Just like Poppy’s hair.
“Hey, guys,” Branch said to the other Trolls softly. “Give me a minute here, will you?”
Nodding, the Trolls stepped back a few paces. Branch approached the pink shrub. “Poppy,” he said, “I know you’re hiding in your hair.”
The pink shrub suddenly turned around and howled, “OOOH-LOO-LOO-LOO-LOO-LOO!”
It was a strange pink-haired critter!
“AAAAH!” Branch screamed.
The other Trolls gasped.
“Not Poppy! Not Poppy!” Biggie said, clutching Mr. Dinkles protectively.
“Sorry,” Branch said, slowly backing away with his palms up. “Wrong hair.”
The monster didn’t care. HISSSSS!
Branch made his way deeper into the woods. Soon he spotted another tuft of pink hair sticking out above the undergrowth.
“Poppy?” Branch asked gently. “Is that you?”
“No,” Poppy said in a small voice.
“Come on,” Branch urged. “Talk to me.”
The pink hair parted, revealing Poppy hiding under-neath. She looked sad and defeated. Branch sat next to her.
“I totally blew it with Bridget,” Poppy began. “I mean, we’ve never had a fight before! I’m worried I just lost my best friend forever. Forever.”
Branch took Poppy’s hand. “That’s not possible,” he said. “When you make a friend, it’s a friend for life.”
Poppy stared at the ground, unconvinced. “I don’t know, Branch.”
“I do,” Branch insisted. “Because I’m your friend. And I would do anything to cheer you up.” He took a deep breath and started to sing in his high, clear voice, “Friends are for—”
Poppy wasn’t in the mood for Branch’s singing. She cut him off. “Branch, your singing is the last thing I need.”
She got up and walked away. But Branch was stubborn. He wasn’t going to just give up on his plan to cheer up Poppy. He followed her, still singing about friendship. “Whenever you need them to be there for you, that’s when friends are always there for you! Whooaah, yeah! Whoooaaah, yeah!”
Poppy wheeled around to face him. “Stop!” she cried. “Which part of not singing did you not understand?”
She turned and stomped off. Branch followed her, still singing. Backup Bugs joined in, providing a steady beat for Branch’s song.
Poppy just kept walking, rolling her eyes.
Back in the throne room, King Gristle and Bridget were still cleaning up the mess the Trolls had made during their presentation. Gristle found his keyboard, scorched by the fireworks. He pressed the keys to see if it still worked, but only horrible sounds came out. SQUORWK! SKWOOCH! BLAIRP!
“You know what?” he said, annoyed. “No more Trolls in the castle area!”
Bridget walked around the room, picking up balloons, socks, tear-away pants, sweaters, and used fireworks. As a former scullery maid, she knew all about cleaning up messes. She knew she’d need to mop the floor after the trash was cleared away. And she was certain they’d be finding glitter for months.
“It’s like the Trolls want us to be just like them,” Gristle complained. “With their happy energy, and glitter, and foam, and lasers.”
Bridget reached the little stage, still set up in the center of the room. She bent to touch it, and a small spray of glitter shot into the air. “Holiday…,” she quietly sang to herself.
She stood and turned to her royal boyfriend. “Grissy, maybe we shouldn’t have been so hard on Poppy and the other Trolls.”
Gristle sneezed. ACHOO! Glitter shot out of his nose and mouth, sparkling in the light.
“I mean,” Bridget continued, “they were just trying to be nice to us.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Gristle reluctantly agreed. Then something occurred to him. “You know, I can’t believe they built a set, knitted us sweaters, took a bus all the way here, hauled these props and fireworks and lights and glitter cannons into the throne room, and put on such an elaborate presentation! Just to find a holiday for us.”
He grunted and shook his head.
Bridget hadn’t really thought of it that way. “Yeah,” she said. “They did all that. Just to help us.”
“I mean, why does she even care so much about what we do?” Gri
stle asked. Then he noticed something. “There’s glitter on the ceiling,” he growled. “Who’s gonna get up there and clean it? Not me, that’s for sure!”
Bridget looked at Poppy’s cards lined up on the mantel. Right in the center was a card with a picture of Bridget and Poppy smiling on it and HAPPY BEST FRIEND DAY!
“You’re right,” Bridget said. “She does care. A lot.”
Staring at the card, Bridget got an idea. “Maybe we do have a reason to celebrate a holiday after all.” She turned to the king. “Grissy, that’s it!”
“What?” Gristle asked, confused. “What’d I say? Was it king-ish? Did I sound like a king?”
Bridget smiled. “Yes! It was super king-ish! Come on! We have work to do!”
She kissed Gristle and ran out of the room, excited. Grinning, Gristle turned to one of his guards. “You see what I did right there, Chad? That is how a king gets things done!”
“Very impressive, sir,” the guard answered. “Also, I’m Todd.”
In the forest near Bergen Town, the other Trolls were waiting for Branch and Poppy to finish their private talk. It was getting dark, and the night critters were starting to wake up and call to each other. Biggie looked around nervously.
“Guys?” he said. “Have you noticed that it’s getting dark? I think Mr. Dinkles is a little bit scared.”
“Zzzzzzz,” Mr. Dinkles snored, sleeping on Biggie’s shoulder.
“Maybe one of us should go…,” Satin began.
“…check to see what Branch and Poppy are doing,” Chenille finished.
“But we don’t want to interrupt them,” said Guy Diamond. “They’re having a private conversation.”
“Poppy seemed pretty upset,” Smidge said, her deep voice filled with concern.
They all sat in the clearing for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Then they heard something.
“He’s singing to her,” Cooper said.
“Still?” Biggie asked, hardly able to believe it.
But Cooper was right. Branch was still singing to Poppy, trying to cheer her up with songs about how great friendship was.