Gamer Troll Loses Control
© 2021 by Matthew C. Saunders
All Rights Reserved
This story is the basis for the tone-poem Gamer Troll Loses Control, commissioned by the Fine Arts Association of Willoughby, Ohio and premiered by their faculty in August 2021. The characters in this story were inspired by art works created by four Fine Arts Association visual arts students.
All Rights Reserved
This story is the basis for the tone-poem Gamer Troll Loses Control, commissioned by the Fine Arts Association of Willoughby, Ohio and premiered by their faculty in August 2021. The characters in this story were inspired by art works created by four Fine Arts Association visual arts students.
Gamer Troll woke up on his parents’ couch, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked around. He had fallen asleep playing video games, last night?—this morning? Who knew? He couldn’t tell through his beanie, which, as always, covered his eyes. Well, maybe just a little more gaming before breakfast (or dinner?)…
But the game controller—where was his controller? No controller, no games.
It wasn’t on the couch, or under the couch. Gamer Troll stomped around the cave for a while, jamming a couple of oatmeal raisin cookies into his mouth as he did, but no sign of the controller. No controller, no games.
Gamer Troll didn’t look for very long, but the controller wasn’t anywhere in the cave, so he left the cave, and discovered that it was daytime, not night. Who knew?
Gamer Troll walked, and walked, until he got to the beach. His feet started to hurt, he had sand in his sneakers, and he was hungry again: those oatmeal raisin cookies weren’t going to hold him. He sat down on a log, beanie still covering his eyes, but through the fibers, he could see a flock of surreal, wacky birds, wading in a tide pool on the edge of the sea.
“Hey birds,” he called. “Have you seen my controller?”
The birds looked at Gamer Troll. They understood “troll,” since there was a troll talking to them, but they didn’t think Gamer Troll looked like someone who could understand them. The beanie still covered his eyes, and eye contact is very important for wading birds. So the birds looked each other in the eye, and had a conversation among themselves about trolls and controllers, and krill (since wading birds love krill).
Gamer Troll, who didn’t have any idea that maybe he should contribute to the conversation and try to get to know the birds, sort of zoned out after a few minutes of listening to them. If he had squinted his ears a little harder, he might have understood some of the surreal wacky birds’ chattering. First, they talked about whether they were looking at the controller right now, but couldn’t really agree, because they didn’t quite understand what a controller was. Then, they tried to warn him about a giant wave coming in to the shore. Gamer Troll didn’t realize that since the birds didn’t have beanies over their eyes, they could see both the giant wave, and something that might be a controller. Instead, he just wondered why they were flying away and not helping him… until the giant wave swept him out to sea.
Gamer Troll sank down, down, down, and landed in the midst of a group of fish. Looking around, he saw them swimming this way and that, and soon, he couldn’t remember which way he had come from, because he was hypnotized by the fishes’ swirling, twirling dance, and they by the bubbles that periodically floated up and away from Gamer Troll. Gamer Troll was confused, and forgot to float, so he sank all the way to the bottom of the ocean, where the light from above started to give out.
As he neared the sand on the ocean floor, the fish suddenly swam up and away, and he bumped into something with lots of legs that bit him on the nose.
“Oww!” said Gamer Troll. “Who bit me!”
“You stepped on my eye!” the thing snapped back.
Gamer Troll looked around, but between the dim light and his beanie, he couldn’t see much. “Who are you?”
“I’m Greenie Meanie,” said the grumpy voice, and as his eyes got used to the dark, Gamer Troll could see a green octopus, with lots of eyes, which Gamer Troll thought was a good idea, so he said so.
“You have lots of eyes—that’s a good idea,” said Gamer Troll.
“Of course it’s a good idea,” snarled Greenie Meanie. “It’s the only way I can find lunch.”
“Are you hungry, too?” asked Gamer Troll, who had only had the two oatmeal raisin cookies that day. “What are you going to have for lunch?” He hoped it was more cookies, or maybe chicken fingers and tortilla chips.
“Not cookies or chicken fingers or tortilla chips,” said Greenie Meanie. “Every day, I sneak over to a school of fish, find the best-looking walleye in the bunch, wrap my tentacles around it, and gobble it up.”
“Oh. I think fish look pretty, but they aren’t too tasty,” replied Gamer Troll, disappointed.
“Well, they’re my favorite,” said Greenie Meanie, looking at Gamer Troll with all his eyes, “but I’d be happy to try something else. You scared away the fish I was trying to catch. What do you taste like?” Greenie Meanie’s eyes were starting to look hungry, and he began to swim closer to Gamer Troll.
Gamer Troll didn’t like this idea at all. He just wanted to find his way back home, and hopefully find his controller along the way. “I-I’m pretty sure that I taste awful,” he said, backing away from Greenie Meanie, who was beginning to wrap his tentacles around Gamer Troll. Gamer Troll kept backing up, peeling tentacles off his hoodie, until he banged his head on something hard: the bottom of an underwater cliff. Greenie Meanie kept coming at Gamer Troll, his eyes looming and his beak snapping, and Gamer Troll closed his eyes tightly, expecting the worst until he heard a chirpy voice say,
“Hey, you! Leave him alone!”
Gamer Troll opened his eyes, and saw a large, flat fish with scintillating scales—not a walleye. “Stop picking on him!” the fish said. It swam right in front of Greenie Meanie, startling him.
Greenie Meanie relaxed his tentacles and Gamer Troll was able to squirm away and hide behind an outcrop of jagged coral.
“Aww, Bubble,” said Greenie Meanie. “I’m hungry, and he looked tasty!”
“So that’s your excuse, Greenie?” said another voice, sweet but firm, and Gamer Troll pushed his beanie up to see long flowing hair, a fish tail, and two arms like his. “You know that we don’t eat visitors!” the sweet voice said.
“But Princess Jessie!” complained Greenie Meanie.
“Get on away from him, Greenie,” said Princess Jessie, giggling just a little. “He probably tastes like pork rinds, anyway!”
Greenie Meanie gave a harumph, and lurched a tentacle toward Bubble, but then swam off dejectedly.
Princess Jessie turned around and looked at Gamer Troll. “Are you lost?” she asked.
Gamer Troll nodded, and Princess Jessie shook her head. “Well, come on then,” she said, and began to swim up, up, up, with Bubble at her side, toward the light of the full moon. Gamer Troll flapped his arms and legs, and followed as best he could.
When they reached the surface of the water, Gamer Troll took a huge breath and looked around.
“Have you seen my controller?” he asked Princess Jessie. He didn’t think to say “thank you,” because that’s just how trolls are sometimes, even when princesses rescue them from sea creatures.
“No,” she replied curiously. “Who is controlling you? If you tell me what they look like, maybe I can help.”
Gamer Troll was confused by this and shook his head. “I guess I just need to get back to my cave and ask my mom,” he said. “But I don’t know what direction that is.” He looked around, bobbing on the waves, and the ocean seemed to stretch forever in every direction.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” said Princess Jessie. “So I’ll help you get back to the beach.” She paused. “But I can’t have you coming back here with your controller if you find it. You might try to control us with it. Just a second.”
Gamer Troll didn’t see it coming. One second, he was floating together with Princess Jessie. The next, her head vanished, and her fish tail took its place, waving its fins at him. That was when another wave, out of nowhere, plunged Gamer Troll back underwater, pulling his beanie back over his eyes. He felt fins, and hands, and bubbles, and maybe claws and teeth, pulling him along faster and faster as the water wooshed past his ears and finally shook all of the tortilla chips out of his socks and the pockets of his hoodie. Suddenly, the ocean itself spit him out with a ptooey and he was launched onto the beach, right next to the log where he had watched the flock of surreal, wacky birds.
Rubbing his head, which was still spinning, Gamer Troll picked himself up. He thought he knew the way back to the cave, and he was right. As he trudged to the mouth of the cave, his mom looked at him in disbelief.
“I’m glad to see you had some outside time,” she said. “What were you doing?”
Gamer Troll didn’t answer. Exasperated, he plopped down on the couch, and when he did, he felt something in his back pocket jab him hard in the kidney.
“Owwww!” he yelped, and reached around to pull it out, only to find his game controller. “I was looking for this the whole time!” he said to his mom.
Him mom shook her head and said, “Well, it’s always the last place you look.”
With a silly grin, Gamer Troll answered, “Yeah, because when you find it, you stop looking.”
But the game controller—where was his controller? No controller, no games.
It wasn’t on the couch, or under the couch. Gamer Troll stomped around the cave for a while, jamming a couple of oatmeal raisin cookies into his mouth as he did, but no sign of the controller. No controller, no games.
Gamer Troll didn’t look for very long, but the controller wasn’t anywhere in the cave, so he left the cave, and discovered that it was daytime, not night. Who knew?
Gamer Troll walked, and walked, until he got to the beach. His feet started to hurt, he had sand in his sneakers, and he was hungry again: those oatmeal raisin cookies weren’t going to hold him. He sat down on a log, beanie still covering his eyes, but through the fibers, he could see a flock of surreal, wacky birds, wading in a tide pool on the edge of the sea.
“Hey birds,” he called. “Have you seen my controller?”
The birds looked at Gamer Troll. They understood “troll,” since there was a troll talking to them, but they didn’t think Gamer Troll looked like someone who could understand them. The beanie still covered his eyes, and eye contact is very important for wading birds. So the birds looked each other in the eye, and had a conversation among themselves about trolls and controllers, and krill (since wading birds love krill).
Gamer Troll, who didn’t have any idea that maybe he should contribute to the conversation and try to get to know the birds, sort of zoned out after a few minutes of listening to them. If he had squinted his ears a little harder, he might have understood some of the surreal wacky birds’ chattering. First, they talked about whether they were looking at the controller right now, but couldn’t really agree, because they didn’t quite understand what a controller was. Then, they tried to warn him about a giant wave coming in to the shore. Gamer Troll didn’t realize that since the birds didn’t have beanies over their eyes, they could see both the giant wave, and something that might be a controller. Instead, he just wondered why they were flying away and not helping him… until the giant wave swept him out to sea.
Gamer Troll sank down, down, down, and landed in the midst of a group of fish. Looking around, he saw them swimming this way and that, and soon, he couldn’t remember which way he had come from, because he was hypnotized by the fishes’ swirling, twirling dance, and they by the bubbles that periodically floated up and away from Gamer Troll. Gamer Troll was confused, and forgot to float, so he sank all the way to the bottom of the ocean, where the light from above started to give out.
As he neared the sand on the ocean floor, the fish suddenly swam up and away, and he bumped into something with lots of legs that bit him on the nose.
“Oww!” said Gamer Troll. “Who bit me!”
“You stepped on my eye!” the thing snapped back.
Gamer Troll looked around, but between the dim light and his beanie, he couldn’t see much. “Who are you?”
“I’m Greenie Meanie,” said the grumpy voice, and as his eyes got used to the dark, Gamer Troll could see a green octopus, with lots of eyes, which Gamer Troll thought was a good idea, so he said so.
“You have lots of eyes—that’s a good idea,” said Gamer Troll.
“Of course it’s a good idea,” snarled Greenie Meanie. “It’s the only way I can find lunch.”
“Are you hungry, too?” asked Gamer Troll, who had only had the two oatmeal raisin cookies that day. “What are you going to have for lunch?” He hoped it was more cookies, or maybe chicken fingers and tortilla chips.
“Not cookies or chicken fingers or tortilla chips,” said Greenie Meanie. “Every day, I sneak over to a school of fish, find the best-looking walleye in the bunch, wrap my tentacles around it, and gobble it up.”
“Oh. I think fish look pretty, but they aren’t too tasty,” replied Gamer Troll, disappointed.
“Well, they’re my favorite,” said Greenie Meanie, looking at Gamer Troll with all his eyes, “but I’d be happy to try something else. You scared away the fish I was trying to catch. What do you taste like?” Greenie Meanie’s eyes were starting to look hungry, and he began to swim closer to Gamer Troll.
Gamer Troll didn’t like this idea at all. He just wanted to find his way back home, and hopefully find his controller along the way. “I-I’m pretty sure that I taste awful,” he said, backing away from Greenie Meanie, who was beginning to wrap his tentacles around Gamer Troll. Gamer Troll kept backing up, peeling tentacles off his hoodie, until he banged his head on something hard: the bottom of an underwater cliff. Greenie Meanie kept coming at Gamer Troll, his eyes looming and his beak snapping, and Gamer Troll closed his eyes tightly, expecting the worst until he heard a chirpy voice say,
“Hey, you! Leave him alone!”
Gamer Troll opened his eyes, and saw a large, flat fish with scintillating scales—not a walleye. “Stop picking on him!” the fish said. It swam right in front of Greenie Meanie, startling him.
Greenie Meanie relaxed his tentacles and Gamer Troll was able to squirm away and hide behind an outcrop of jagged coral.
“Aww, Bubble,” said Greenie Meanie. “I’m hungry, and he looked tasty!”
“So that’s your excuse, Greenie?” said another voice, sweet but firm, and Gamer Troll pushed his beanie up to see long flowing hair, a fish tail, and two arms like his. “You know that we don’t eat visitors!” the sweet voice said.
“But Princess Jessie!” complained Greenie Meanie.
“Get on away from him, Greenie,” said Princess Jessie, giggling just a little. “He probably tastes like pork rinds, anyway!”
Greenie Meanie gave a harumph, and lurched a tentacle toward Bubble, but then swam off dejectedly.
Princess Jessie turned around and looked at Gamer Troll. “Are you lost?” she asked.
Gamer Troll nodded, and Princess Jessie shook her head. “Well, come on then,” she said, and began to swim up, up, up, with Bubble at her side, toward the light of the full moon. Gamer Troll flapped his arms and legs, and followed as best he could.
When they reached the surface of the water, Gamer Troll took a huge breath and looked around.
“Have you seen my controller?” he asked Princess Jessie. He didn’t think to say “thank you,” because that’s just how trolls are sometimes, even when princesses rescue them from sea creatures.
“No,” she replied curiously. “Who is controlling you? If you tell me what they look like, maybe I can help.”
Gamer Troll was confused by this and shook his head. “I guess I just need to get back to my cave and ask my mom,” he said. “But I don’t know what direction that is.” He looked around, bobbing on the waves, and the ocean seemed to stretch forever in every direction.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” said Princess Jessie. “So I’ll help you get back to the beach.” She paused. “But I can’t have you coming back here with your controller if you find it. You might try to control us with it. Just a second.”
Gamer Troll didn’t see it coming. One second, he was floating together with Princess Jessie. The next, her head vanished, and her fish tail took its place, waving its fins at him. That was when another wave, out of nowhere, plunged Gamer Troll back underwater, pulling his beanie back over his eyes. He felt fins, and hands, and bubbles, and maybe claws and teeth, pulling him along faster and faster as the water wooshed past his ears and finally shook all of the tortilla chips out of his socks and the pockets of his hoodie. Suddenly, the ocean itself spit him out with a ptooey and he was launched onto the beach, right next to the log where he had watched the flock of surreal, wacky birds.
Rubbing his head, which was still spinning, Gamer Troll picked himself up. He thought he knew the way back to the cave, and he was right. As he trudged to the mouth of the cave, his mom looked at him in disbelief.
“I’m glad to see you had some outside time,” she said. “What were you doing?”
Gamer Troll didn’t answer. Exasperated, he plopped down on the couch, and when he did, he felt something in his back pocket jab him hard in the kidney.
“Owwww!” he yelped, and reached around to pull it out, only to find his game controller. “I was looking for this the whole time!” he said to his mom.
Him mom shook her head and said, “Well, it’s always the last place you look.”
With a silly grin, Gamer Troll answered, “Yeah, because when you find it, you stop looking.”