by David Lewman
Hickory’s two back legs started moving around, stepping and kicking. His back end shook. He almost lost his balance. It was as if he’d lost control of the back half of his body. “Now please,” he repeated, “just go!”
“Hickory, are you all right?” Poppy asked, concerned for her friend’s health.
“I’m fine,” Hickory said. He turned and spoke to his back end. “Hey, now! Stop that! Whoa, now! Hey! Heeyah!”
But his back half just kept moving—until a hand burst out of his side, feeling around like it was looking for something!
Horrified, Poppy watched as—ZZZZZIP!
The hand unzipped a hidden zipper, separating Hickory’s back half from his front half. A short Troll with a big mustache stood behind Hickory, still wearing the back end of the Country Western Troll costume. His name was Dickory.
“Nein!” Dickory yelled at Hickory. “What are you doing?”
Poppy stared at the two Trolls. “What’s going on, Hickory?”
“I’m so sorry,” Hickory said.
“Yes, show her who you really are, Hickory,” Dickory said, pulling down Hickory’s costume to reveal a pair of lederhosen—the kind of short pants worn by yodel-ay-hee-hooing yodelers!
“Yodel-ay-hee-hoo!” Hickory yodeled.
“Yodel-ay-hee—” Dickory began in response.
“Wait,” Poppy interrupted. “You’re the Yodelers?”
“Ja, you’re darn skippy, player play,” Dickory confirmed.
“And you were gonna give our pop string to Queen Barb?” Poppy asked, feeling betrayed.
“Ding, ding!” Dickory said, touching his finger to his nose in the classic sign to say that she had guessed it correctly. “Give this person a strudel for the correct answer!”
“And you’ve been in back the whole time?” Poppy asked Dickory.
Dickory made a face. He clearly didn’t want to discuss his time as the back half of a Country Western Troll. “Next subject, please.”
Poppy was baffled. She looked at Hickory. “Why would you do this?”
“So sorry,” he said, dropping his fake Country Western drawl and speaking in a completely different accent. “It was the only way to save our beautiful yodeling.”
“Hickory…,” Dickory said, warning his fellow bounty hunter not to lose sight of their mission.
“But trust me,” Hickory went on, “you need to get out of here right away.”
“What are you doing, Hickory?” Dickory asked. Not waiting for an answer, the short Troll ran forward and grabbed the pop string. Poppy held on to it, and Hickory jumped in, trying to help Poppy. It was a three-way tug-of-war. Finally, Dickory managed to yank the string away from Poppy and Hickory. Waving it over his head, he yodeled triumphantly. “YODEL-AY-HE-HOO!”
Just then, Queen Barb stepped out of the shadows behind Hickory and Dickory.
“I thought I heard a yodel,” she said, an evil smile spread across her face.
“Queen Barb!” Poppy said.
Barb glared at her rival with a triumphant twinkle in her eye. “Nice job, fellas,” she told the bounty hunters. She snatched the string out of Dickory’s hand and plucked it. TWEEEENG! A sweet pop tune rang out. “Final notes of pop.” Barb was satisfied. “They’ll never invade anyone’s brain again.”
“I’m not gonna let you do this!” Poppy said, full of fierce determination.
But Barb just laughed, looking Poppy up and down. “This is who I’ve been worried about? This pipsqueak?”
Poppy looked defiant. “I’ll never stop fighting until I make things right! And I’m not a pipsqueak!”
Walking right up to Poppy, Barb considered her height. “Uh, yeah you are. ’Cause I’m like a whole centimeter taller than you.” She snapped her fingers. SNAP! Two of her Rocker Trolls appeared and hurried over to grab Poppy by her arms.
Poppy struggled to get free. “Leave me alone!”
“Leave me alone?” Barb repeated with sarcastic innocence. “I’m sorry, but you were the one who was all desperate to be best friends!”
Poppy kept trying to break loose of her captors. “Get your hands off me!”
“Ooh, okay, all right, you’re a feisty one,” Barb said. “I respect that. Strong woman to strong woman, am I right? You know who else was feisty? Trolls Village.”
Poppy gasped. Barb and her Rocker Trolls must have already attacked her home! “Oh, no, no!” she cried, devastated as the Rocker Trolls carried her away.
* * *
Panting, Biggie had sprinted the last stretch to his beloved home village, carrying Mr. Dinkles in his arms. “Everyone! Everyone! We’re ba-ack!”
But when he’d stepped into the clearing at the edge of the village, he was shocked to see that the entire village had been destroyed by Barb and her rock henchmen.
Half a dozen Pop Trolls crawled out of their hiding places to greet him.
“Biggie!” Guy Diamond called.
“Hello, Biggie,” Legsly said.
“You won’t believe it!” Guy Diamond said in his shimmering, auto-tuned voice. “We were attacked by Barb and her barbarians!”
Tiny Diamond peeked out of his father’s hair. “She took everyone to Volcano Rock City! Ain’t that right, Daddy?”
“That’s right, Tiny Diamond,” Guy said sadly.
Sucking his thumb, the little Troll jumped into his father’s arms.
“Oh, no!” Biggie had cried, turning away, unable to bear the sight of the wrecked village. “I shouldn’t have left Poppy! She wouldn’t have left me! Never, no matter how scared she was!” He turned back to face his friends. “I’ve got to go help Poppy!”
“We’re coming with you, Biggie!” Legsly said bravely. “We’ve gotta go save our best friend!”
Smidge looked doubtful. “But how?” she asked in her deep voice. “We’ll never make it past Security!”
Tiny Diamond flexed the little muscle in his arm. “We’ll overpower them with muscle!”
“Or with fashion!” Satin and Chenille said.
They flew into action, cutting fabric, sewing pieces together, and making perfect rock ’n’ roll costumes to wear as disguises.
In her haste, Satin pricked her finger with a sewing needle. “Ouch!”
At the sight of a tiny drop of her blood, Biggie fainted and hit the ground. FWOMP!
Volcano Rock City was well named. A rocky volcano rose out of the sea, spewing smoke, ash, and lava. At the base of the volcano was a huge natural arena where the Rocker Trolls held their monstrously loud concerts.
Barb and King Thrash flew into Volcano Rock City atop one of their spiky fish, with Poppy trapped in the creature’s mouth. Its long, sharp teeth were like the bars of a cage. “Rock ’n’ roll!” the old king croaked as they approached their home island. Looking down, Queen Barb could see Rocker Trolls filing in for her big show. Her fingers played over imaginary solos, and her neck tingled at the thought of head-banging. She couldn’t wait to ROCK!
* * *
Down in the arena, the Rocker Troll roadies were unloading equipment. From a shadowy tunnel, the Pop Trolls spied on them.
“Okay,” Biggie whispered. “Let’s go!” He led the way as they crept toward the backstage area.
JINGLE-JANGLE! JINGLE-JANGLE!
The Rocker Troll roadies looked up when they heard the jingling sound. They spotted the Pop Trolls and yelled, “Hey, stop right there!”
The Pop Trolls froze. “Legsly,” Biggie hissed. “I told you not to wear your anklet!”
“But it’s my thing!” Legsly protested.
The Rocker Troll stomped up to the Pop Trolls. “Only Rocker Trolls are allowed backstage!” he barked.
“Well,” Biggie said, “we are genuine Hard Rockers.” They stepped out of the shadows, revealing their costumes—slightly corny-looking jumpsuits wit
h shiny sequins. Biggie and Mr. Dinkles both looked like Elvis Presley. They launched into a bouncy early rock ’n’ roll tune that was a pretty far cry from rock.
They finished, proud of their performance. The Rocker Troll’s expression hadn’t changed—he still had a snarl on his face. But he shrugged and said, “Okay, cool.” He handed each of the disguised Pop Trolls an instrument. “Hurry up! The show’s about to start, man! Queen Barb’s about to go onstage! Let’s do this!”
In another area backstage, Riff shoved Poppy into a cage. “I just want to say that you smell like bubble gum, and I’m very sorry,” he apologized. He left, revealing Barb standing there, gloating.
“You’re welcome,” Barb said.
“For what?” Poppy asked. She couldn’t imagine what she could possibly be grateful for. Barb had taken her string, thrown her in a barred cell, and destroyed her village.
“For making your dream come true,” Barb explained, smiling a wicked smile. “Letting you hang out with me. Getting a little quality time with your new best friend.”
“What?” Poppy exclaimed. “I’m not your best friend!”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Barb said. “I get it. Being queen can be kind of lonely.” She looked away from Poppy, lost in thought. “There’s all this pressure to please your dad, and you’re surrounded by people who say they’re your friends but just tell you what you want to hear, and…” She looked back at Poppy. “You know, other than your terrible taste in clothing and music and general lifestyle, you and me are the same, Popsqueak.”
“No,” Poppy said firmly. “You and I are totally different.”
Barb shook her head. “No. How I see it is we’re just two queens who want to unite the Trolls Kingdom.”
“You don’t want to unite the Trolls world,” Poppy said, gripping the bars. “You want to destroy it.”
Looking annoyed, Barb said, “Nuh-uh! No way! Music has done nothing but divide us. And now that I have the final string, I can make us all One Nation of Trolls Under Rock.”
“What are you going to do?” Poppy asked.
“Play the ultimate power chord, and then you’ll see,” Barb said as she picked up her guitar and attached the pop string. She gave it a long sniff. Now united, the six strings glowed with a bright rainbow light. Barb turned to go out and greet the crowd. They roared as she appeared through a cloud of stage fog.
“Who wants to see what the ultimate power chord can do?” Barb roared. She spin her arm in a windmill, ready to strike the chord. She aimed her guitar at Poppy, and—THUNK!
A thick book fell from the sky and landed on Barb’s head.
“I guess a giant comprehensive manual does come in handy,” Branch said as he jumped down from Sheila B.’s basket.
“Branch!” Poppy cried out in joy.
Barb got to her feet, snarling. “Poppy’s boyfriend came to crash the concert.”
The Queen of the Rockers aimed the guitar at Poppy and played the chord. A mighty sound reverberated from the guitar—and Branch bravely leapt in front of Poppy.
Poppy held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, Branch was standing before her as a long-haired Rocker Troll!
“ROCK ON!” he bellowed.
Queen Barb looked at the new Rocker Branch and grinned. “Oh, sick! It totally works!”
“You’re turning everyone into Rock zombies?” Poppy said, appalled.
Barb gave a cheerful little nod. “Yep, and I can’t wait to party with you.”
Poppy crossed her arms across her chest. “You’ll never turn me.”
Barb began to play the guitar, aiming its power at the other Trolls. No one was spared! Even little Clampers yelled, “ROCK ’N’ ROLL!”
All the Rocker Trolls cheered! The other kinds of Trolls lost their color as they became dark headbangers. One of them got so excited, he dove from his seat in the lower balcony, aiming for the mosh pit far below. “QUEEN BARB!” he shouted as he jumped. SHPLORPSH! He missed the mosh pit and landed bottom-first in a pool of bubbling hot lava. “YEOW!” He leapt away from the scorching liquid with the seat of his leather pants smoldering.
The band—Biggie and the other Pop Trolls—launched into a rock song. Barb rocked out on her guitar. Flame pots exploded, lighting up the faces of the Rocker Trolls in the audience. They oohed and aahed at the spectacle.
One Rocker Troll, moved by the sheer beauty of Barb’s rocking performance, shed a single tear. The tear made the rocker sign with its fingers, shouting, “Rock on!”
As Barb played the six magical strings on her guitar, she shouted, “And now we’re all going to live as one, and everyone is going to rock! Especially the Pop Trolls!”
While all this was going on, Poppy was busily picking the lock on her cell with her hair. As soon as the door swung open, she scrambled up the scaffolding.
“Not so fast, Popsqueak,” Barb snarled. “Hey, boy toy, it’s mullet time.”
Branch’s hair suddenly grew, but only in the back, creating a mullet hairdo. He lashed out with his new mullet and caught Poppy. He dragged her back to Barb, who cut loose with the full might of the power chord.
When the smoke cleared, Poppy stepped forward as a Rocker Troll! Barb nodded, and announced to the crowd, “Pop has become rock!”
Grinning, Barb tossed her guitar with the six magical strings to Poppy. She wanted the satisfaction of seeing the new Poppy transform all the other Trolls into Rocker Trolls. “Now finish them off!” she ordered.
Poppy started to play. Her fellow Pop Trolls looked horrified, but Poppy turned to the disguised band members and winked. The solo she was playing was definitely not Rock. It was bright, bouncy, and very catchy.
“Pop music?” Barb said, mystified and horrified. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be a rock zombie!” She couldn’t understand why Poppy wasn’t under her complete control, utterly transformed into a zombie of rock music and incapable of playing pop.
Smiling, Poppy pulled two gumdrops out of her ears. “Gumdrops!” she explained. “Soundproof and delicious!”
“Well, how-dee!” Hickory called from the audience, delighted that Poppy had learned his little trick for resisting the powers of hypnotic music.
“Give me that guitar!” Barb snarled, lunging at Poppy.
“No!” Poppy said. “You can’t do this, Barb! I’m not going to get you do this to anyone else!”
Barb grabbed the neck of the guitar, but Poppy held on tight, refusing to let go. They struggled to gain control of the powerful instrument.
“A world where everyone looks the same and sounds the same?” Poppy said as they wrestled over the guitar. “That’s not harmony!”
“Hey, Barb,” Riff said, scratching his head as a new thought knocked around inside it. “If we all look the same, act the same, and dress the same, how will anyone know we’re cool?”
“A good queen listens,” Poppy explained. “Real harmony takes lots of voices. Different voices!”
Poppy raised the guitar high over her head with both hands and then slammed it down onto the stage. SMASH! The guitar shattered into pieces with the terrible sounds of squealing feedback. The six musical strings were destroyed!
With the strings destroyed, King Trollex, King Quincy, Queen Essence, Trollzart, Delta Dawn, and all the other Trolls turned back to their normal selves. Their eyes lit up, and color flowed back into their bodies and hair.
Branch returned to his old self, too. Poppy ran to him, calling his name in joy and relief. “Branch!”
Barb desperately tried to pick up what was left of the strings, but they crumbled to dust in her hands and slipped through her fingers, blowing away in the wind. “No!” she cried. “My strings! No!”
Furious, she turned to Poppy. “What have you done? You’ve destroyed music!” She turned to the crowd in t
he arena. “Give it up, everybody!” she shouted with raging sarcasm. “Thanks to the Pop Trolls queen, we’ve all lost our music! History repeats itself! Pop has ruined EVERYTHING!”
All the Trolls looked devastated—even Poppy, who fell to her knees and turned to the crowd, hoping for their forgiveness. How could they live without music? Everyone was silent.
But then…THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
A beat! A rhythm!
Cooper realized it was his heart beating. He held a microphone to his chest so everyone could hear it. Now amplified, his heartbeat sounded like a bass drum. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
Cooper’s twin brother, Prince D, started beatboxing over the sound of the heartbeat. “SH-THOOMPA DA BUH DOOM-DOOM BAH-DAH!”
Queen Essence smiled. “Those are my sons, making music!”
The Country Western Trolls started to stomp their feet in time to the rhythm, doing a line dance.
Poppy looked astonished. Queen Essence turned to her and said, “Queen Barb can’t take away something that is inside us. Because that’s where music really comes from. Not from some string. Inside all of us.”
The crowd gasped, amazed at what Queen Essence had said. Music without their strings? Was it possible? They started to nod in time to the music, smiling.
“It comes from our experiences…,” King Trollex said.
“Our lives…,” Delta Dawn added.
“Our culture…,” Queen Essence said.
Poppy slowly nodded, realizing the Funk queen was right. “Queen Barb can’t take that away.” She turned to the crowd, took a deep breath, and started to sing in time with the rhythms the other Trolls were making. “Let me hear you sing!”
Poppy’s voice echoed through the huge arena. She turned to Branch, and they smiled at each other. She turned back to the audience and sang some more. Branch joined her, singing perfect harmony.
Barb couldn’t believe this was happening. Music without the strings! “B-but…how?” she stammered. Did Poppy have a point? She turned to her father for guidance. “Dad?”