Trolls World Tour

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Trolls World Tour Page 5

by David Lewman


  Clampers spit on the ground, equally frustrated. Then she climbed back into Delta Dawn’s big hair, and they headed back to town.

  * * *

  Mr. Dinkles imagined he was flying up into the sky toward big, fluffy clouds that looked like tasty pink cotton candy. The clouds parted, and a huge majestic figure appeared. The figure looked like him, but he had a long white beard and mustache and wore a golden crown. In his hand was a royal scepter. A bright light shone behind his head, and gentle music played. The huge figure smiled benevolently down at him.

  “Mew,” Mr. Dinkles said when he saw the friendly being.

  “Welcome home,” the personage said in a deep, warm voice.

  Then Mr. Dinkles stopped floating upward—he fell back toward Earth!

  “Mew!” he cried.

  On a riverbank, Biggie was reviving Mr. Dinkles with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He pressed on his pet’s body, and river water fountained out of Mr. Dinkles’s mouth. GLURG!

  “Oh, Mr. Dinkles!” Biggie cried, relieved. “You’re alive! For a minute there, I thought you’d kicked the bucket.”

  He hugged his pet worm, overjoyed.

  Meanwhile, Poppy was clinging to the riverbank, the rapids churning just below her dangling bare feet. “Help! Branch! AAAHHH!”

  “Poppy, hang on!” Branch called to her. “I got you!”

  ZHWWWIP! Branch whipped his hair to Poppy and pulled her up. They collapsed to the ground.

  “You do got me,” Poppy said. “You always got me.”

  “I’m so glad you’re all right,” Branch said.

  “Thanks to you,” Poppy said, smiling.

  “That’s what friends are for, right?” Branch asked.

  “Yeah,” Poppy agreed.

  They looked at each other for a moment. Then…SPLAT! Water sprayed all over Branch, soaking him. Hickory was shaking the river water off his body.

  “Whoo-ee!” Hickory whooped, shaking off more water.

  “There you are!” Poppy called, happy to see him.

  “I think we lost ’em,” Hickory said. “We should be all right.”

  “Thank you!” Poppy said, standing up. “I don’t know how we can repay you. Oh, wait!” She held up a heaping handful of gumdrops. “Yes, I do know…gumdrops!”

  She put the gumdrops into Hickory’s hand.

  “Gum-what?” he said, unfamiliar with the candy. “Oh, well, thank you.” He popped one into his mouth and chewed. “That’s got a zing, don’t it?”

  “It’s not candy time!” Branch argued, popping an irresistible gumdrop into his own mouth. “It’s question time!” He wanted to know more about Hickory before they went any farther with him. But then…

  DING! Poppy and Biggie’s Hug Time bracelets chimed.

  “Hug Time!” Poppy said.

  “Hug Time!” Biggie agreed.

  They all went in for a group hug. Branch was the first to break out of it. He wanted to get back to questioning Hickory. “Why are you helping us?” he demanded. “What’s in it for you?”

  Poppy couldn’t believe Branch was asking Hickory accusing questions right after he’d helped them escape the other Country Western Trolls.

  “Branch!” she said sharply. She turned to Hickory. “I’m sorry about my associate.”

  But Hickory didn’t mind Branch’s questions. “I loved your message about music bringing Trolls together,” the cowboy said. “Delta Dawn shoulda listened to you.”

  Poppy nodded. “I know! If we never see past our differences, we’ll never be able to realize that we’re all the same!”

  “You’re darn skippy,” Hickory agreed. “You may be Pop, and I may be Country, but Trolls is Trolls.”

  Poppy shot Branch a look that said, “See? I was right!”

  But Branch rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “ ‘Trolls is Trolls.’ Wow. Deep. I’m gonna have to go ponder that one by a stream.”

  Poppy shot another look at Branch, one that clearly said “Be nice!” Then she turned back to Hickory. “This is the beginning of a partnership between Trolls that’s going to save all Trolls.” Holding up her map, she turned to Branch and Biggie. “Okay,” she continued, “we need to get to the Funk Trolls before Queen Barb does.”

  Hickory stroked his chin, thinking. “Well,” he drawled, “the quickest way is down that river. I’ll build us a raft.” He headed off into the scrub brush to gather the materials he needed.

  Branch looked smug. “This oughta be good. That guy probably doesn’t know the first thing about building a raft.”

  But in no time at all, Hickory put together an incredibly elaborate wooden raft. It had two levels, with ladders leading up to the top level, where the steering wheel was. At the front of the lower level was a stone ring for campfires at night. Hickory lowered the raft’s handmade canopy and nodded toward the cappuccino maker. “Cappuccino, anyone?” he offered.

  Poppy smiled gleefully and answered, “Cappuccino? Cappucci-YES!”

  Branch narrowed his eyes and replied, “I do want one. But I’m not happy about it.” He sighed and motioned for Hickory to make one for him as well.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, not far away, Cooper continued his journey through the unknown lands, looking for signs of life. Stopping for a moment to catch his breath and take in the wonders of the countryside, he spotted something familiar. Two sets of blue legs! As far as he knew, he was the only Troll with four legs.

  “Trolls that look like me,” he whispered to himself.

  He approached the legs quickly but cautiously. When he got closer, he realized that the legs didn’t belong to Trolls. They belonged to some strange honking birds. As the birds bobbed up and down, they made noises that sounded like a horn section. One of them grabbed Cooper in its beak, and Cooper immediately pooped out cupcakes, each with a lit birthday candle. After pulling free of the bird, Cooper offered the cupcakes to the creatures.

  “Happy birthday,” he said.

  That day, they made their way down the river on Hickory’s custom-built raft, heading toward the land of the Funk Trolls. By nightfall, they’d passed out of the desert and into a lush swamp. Trees along the banks were covered in drooping moss. A cool breeze blew. Water lapped at the shore.

  Hickory built a fire with Biggie’s help. Glowing sparks soon rose into the starry sky.

  “It is a nice night, isn’t it?” Biggie said. “Mr. Dinkles loves a full moon.”

  “Let’s get our grub on,” Hickory said, stirring a pot he’d hung over the small fire. “Who’s ready?”

  “I’ll put on more kindlin’,” Poppy said in a Country Western accent.

  Branch took Poppy aside for a confidential talk at the other end of the raft. “Maybe it’s just me,” he said quietly, “but are you getting a weird vibe from Hickory?”

  Poppy looked surprised. “What? No. Why? Are you?”

  “I just don’t trust him.” Branch said.

  By the campfire, Biggie and Hickory sat eating.

  “That’s good grub,” said Hickory. “What do you think?”

  Too polite to answer with his mouth full, Biggie nodded enthusiastically.

  Nearby, in the water, someone was spying on them, breathing through something that looked like a reed…a reed instrument….

  On the raft, Poppy considered what Branch had just told her about not trusting Hickory. “Yeah,” she said, “but you don’t trust anybody, Branch. He doesn’t have an ulterior motive. The guy rescued us and built us this incredible raft.”

  Rolling his eyes, Branch replied, “He hasn’t done anything I couldn’t do.”

  “Except be cool,” Poppy teased. “Am I right?”

  “I’m cool!” Branch protested. Then he realized insisting he was cool probably wasn’t very cool. “Whatever. I just want us to be safe. You know
what’s not cool or safe? Putting too much trust in a complete stranger.”

  Poppy looked offended. “Oh, I see,” she replied coolly. “It’s not Hickory you don’t trust. It’s me! You don’t think I’m a good queen?”

  Flustered by Poppy’s accusation, Branch sputtered, “Wait, what? I didn’t say that. Why are you trying to make this into such a big deal?”

  “I thought we were friends, Branch,” Poppy said, hurt. “I’m starting to think you don’t even know what that means.”

  Branch leaned in, speaking intensely. “We are friends! Sometimes that means speaking up if I think you are making a mistake.”

  Their argument was interrupted by the sound of smooth jazz filling the air. Bright, swirly orbs of light, like the blobs that pulse inside a lava lamp, floated in front of Poppy, Branch, Biggie, and Mr. Dinkles.

  “Did you hear something?” Poppy asked.

  Chaz, Barb’s bounty hunter, rose out of the water and floated up through the fog, playing hypnotic music on his saxophone. Candles and shiny bubbles floated on the river. Petals filled the air. Magical butterflies fluttered out of his horn. He had long hair and a mustache.

  Staring at Chaz, entranced by his smooth music, Poppy murmured, “Look at that guy’s chest hair….”

  “Poppy,” Branch said in a dreamy voice, “I can’t feel my face….”

  “It’s like I’m being paralyzed by the music’s smoothness,” Poppy managed to say, just before she began to gently sway to the rhythm of the tune. Branch was firmly in the grip of Chaz’s jazz, too. It carried them into a fantasy….

  In space, Poppy and Branch sat together on a moonlit beach. A white tiger flew around, roaring, but it didn’t frighten them. A guy walked in and poured them two glasses of fizzy blue juice from little boxes. They toasted with their glasses. CLINK!

  An old-fashioned phone appeared, ringing. BRRING-RING! BRRING-RING! Poppy picked up the receiver and said, “Hello?”

  “Hello,” Branch said on the other end of the line. “It’s me! Look…narwhals!”

  He pointed out into the ocean. Narwhals with long tusks jumped out of the sea, trailing silvery sprays of water behind them.

  “Totally nar-nar,” Poppy said in a blissful voice. The white tiger looked on with shining green eyes.

  Biggie rode by on a narwhal with Mr. Dinkles balanced just behind its tusk. “Poppy!” he said to her, waving.

  Then Poppy and Branch imagined that they were two pieces of sushi on a plate. They both started eating a sushi roll, Poppy nibbling at one end while Branch ate from the other. They held the roll with chopsticks….

  BOP! BOP! BOP! In reality, Branch was tapping Poppy’s tongue with a stick. “Poppy, how do you like the sushi?” he asked dreamily.

  CLUNK. A key turned in a heavy lock, trapping Biggie, Mr. Dinkles, Branch, and Poppy in a cage. Biggie and his pet worm had been entranced, too. Now the friends snapped out of it.

  “What happened?” Poppy asked.

  “Got ya, pop babies!” Chaz crowed. “Soon Queen Barb is going to have your string, and the world will be rid of cheesy, pointless pop music once and for all!”

  “Hold it right there, Chaz!” Hickory barked, jumping toward them and landing between the Smooth Jazz Troll and his caged captives.

  Chaz looked confused. “And who are you supposed to be, Cowboy Pants?”

  “Name’s Hickory,” he said, touching his hat, “and I don’t much care for smooth jazz.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Chaz said. “Well, you’ve never had the Chaz experience.” He whipped out his saxophone and started to play his hypnotically smooth music. But he’d only gotten out a few notes, when…WHAM! Hickory kicked Chaz off the raft and into the river. SPLOOSH!

  Hickory pulled two gumdrops from his ears, one green and one blue. He’d used them to block Chaz’s hypnotic tune. “Gumdrops—soundproof and delicious!” He popped them into his mouth.

  Chaz surfaced, shouting at the raft as the current swiftly swept him away. “You’ll never get away with this!” he threatened. “Queen Barb will find you! Smooth jazz will be heard again! Smooth jazz will never die!”

  As Hickory released them from the cage, Poppy and Branch looked shaken. “Who was that guy?” Poppy asked.

  “One of the many bounty hunters out there looking for you,” Hickory answered.

  “That was awful!” Biggie cried, remembering the music. “So smooth and easy and awful!”

  Hickory patted his shoulder. “I know, big buddy,” he said comfortingly. “It’s enough to put you off jazz altogether.”

  Biggie took in a deep breath and let it out. Then he got a determined look on his face. “All right, that’s it,” he announced. “We need to go home.”

  “Biggie, it’ll be okay,” Poppy reassured him.

  “Stop saying that and listen to me!” Biggie said. “You only hear what you want to hear, and it puts us all in danger! How are you supposed to save the world if you can’t even keep us safe?”

  Poppy was stunned. Biggie was right. She hadn’t saved them from Chaz’s music, and they’d ended up locked in a cage. If it hadn’t been for Hickory sticking gumdrops in his ears, they’d still be in a cage.

  “You made a pinky promise to me, Queen Poppy,” Biggie reminded her, “and you broke it.” He made a decision. Pulling Mr. Dinkles’ hat like a cord, he started him up like a motorboat. PUH-PUH-PUH-PUH-PRROOOM! Biggie leaned over, placed Mr. Dinkles in the water, and stepped onto his back. Biggie rode his pet worm across the water to the riverbank with his arms crossed, yelling back, “What kind of queen breaks a pinky promise?”

  “Biggie, no!” Poppy cried after him, heartbroken to see him go.

  * * *

  Cooper stumbled step by step through the desert. He was hot, tired, and thirsty. As far as he could see, there was nothing but glittering, golden sand.

  “So hot…,” said the sun burning down on the weary Troll.

  Then Cooper spotted something shining in the distance. A pool of water! Cool, refreshing water! He gathered all his energy and ran toward it.

  When he reached the pool of clear blue water, he looked at his reflection. “I’m saved!” he said joyfully. He lowered his head with his long neck and started drinking in huge gulps.

  “Are you really saved?” his reflection asked. “Because last I checked, I was a mirage!”

  POOF! The pool of water disappeared, replaced by sand dunes. Cooper spat out the sand he’d been scooping into his mouth. “PLEEAAAH!”

  He looked around. Nothing but empty desert for as far as he could see. “I’m done for!” he croaked. “And on top of that, I never found any Trolls like me!” He swooned and collapsed on the sand.

  Slowly, a shadow covered him. Something large was passing between Cooper and the sun—something big. Then…FWOOM! A bright light shone down. A bubble surrounded him, knocking off his Destiny hat, and he was lifted into the air, trapped inside the bubble!

  “AAAHHH!” Cooper screamed. “NOOOO!”

  A second bubble came down and lifted up his hat.

  “Whoa!” said the sun.

  * * *

  The bubble carried Cooper into the observation room of a huge, shiny spaceship. POP! The bubble broke, and Cooper fell onto the cool chrome floor. THUD!

  Cooper looked up, but twinkling bright lights were shining in his face, so he couldn’t see. He shaded his eyes, squinting. Two tall silhouettes loomed over him.

  “Q, is that…?” a female voice asked. “I think our search is finally over!”

  Overjoyed, Cooper beamed at who he saw standing in front of him.

  * * *

  The next day, Poppy steered the raft down the river, past cattail plants growing along the banks. She felt sad thinking about Biggie and how he’d said she’d failed as his queen.

  Hickory wasn’t doing anything to l
ift her mood, playing his guitar and singing a sad song about unrequited love. Where do they get all these sad, sad songs? Poppy thought.

  Branch, on the other hand, thought the lyrics perfectly captured the way he was feeling. He wanted to be more than just Poppy’s friend. Sighing, he lay back on the raft and stared up at the clouds in the sky.

  Hickory came up next to Branch. “Something tells me your heart ain’t in this mission.”

  “What do you mean?” Branch asked. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Hickory smiled. “Yeah, you’re physically here. You’re on the mission, all right. But your heart is with Miss Poppy.”

  Branch sat up, surprised that Hickory had guessed his secret so easily. “Hey, hold your horses!” Then he remembered Hickory’s four-legged body. “I’m sorry. Is that offensive?”

  Shaking his head, Hickory said, “Not as offensive as you thinking I can’t see what’s right in front of my eyes. Did you tell her yet?”

  Branch looked down at the logs that formed the raft, picking at a splinter of wood. “I tried,” he admitted. “But…” He whistled and made an explosion sound, letting Hickory know his attempt had bombed. “Look, if you need someone to build you a survival bunker, I’m your Troll. But talking about feelings? Not so much.”

  “I get it,” Hickory said, laughing. “You two are pretty different.”

  “We are,” Branch agreed.

  “And if you did tell her, who knows if she’d even hear you,” Hickory observed.

  Branch frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Hickory looked right into Branch’s eyes, giving it to him straight. “Well, let’s just say only one of you is doing the listening in this relationship. And it’s not her.” He paused for quite a while as Branch slowly swallowed this piece of information. Then, just to be absolutely clear, Hickory said, “It’s you.”

  “Yeah, I got that, thanks,” Branch said glumly.

 

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