‘NEEEEEEXXTT!’
One after another, trolls were called up onstage to show off their talent to Abominatia. She was luxuriously draped on a sofa at the front like a Hollywood star from one of Neville’s mum’s magazines. Next to her were Gruntilda, Thicket and the panel of important-looking trolls.
Neville took a seat at the back and watched with a mixture of fear and delight as everyone waited for their turn.
‘NEXT!’ Abominatia screamed at a jittery troll-girl when she was halfway through her love song, ‘My Toadstools Grow For You!’ The girl burst into floods of tears and ran offstage.
Neville heaved a sigh of relief. Most of the other trolls auditioning had been absolutely terrible. He’d already watched priddle players twangling noisily, a slurch charmer, an old troll named Bowel reciting troll-poetry, a troll-girl trying to balance a fridge on the end of her nose and a teenage troll-boy, who juggled the rest of his family. It had all seemed to be going quite well until he’d accidentally thrown his grandmooma through the side-wall of the theatre.
A young troll with ears of corn sprouting from his shoulders ambled onstage next.
‘Hello and what’s your name?’ Abominatia asked wearily.
‘Erm … Stump,’ said Stump.
‘And what are you going to do for us, Stump?’ Abominatia half said, half yawned. She looked utterly bored and pulled a left sock from her pocket and started chewing on it.
‘Well … um … I do tricks with Dumbly.’
‘Who’s Dumbly?’
‘Dumbly’s my pet –’
Before Stump could finish, an enormous dungle lumbered on to the stage. It clattered to the centre, where it scraped its hooves and tossed its horned head from side to side viciously.
Mucus threw his clipboard into the air, screamed and dived over the back of his sofa.
Gruntilda laughed hysterically.
‘This is Dumbly,’ Stump announced to the entire theatre. Then he turned to the immense beast and held up his hand. ‘SIT, DUMBLY, SIT!’
Dumbly didn’t sit. It just snorted great nostrilfuls of steam at the young troll.
‘ROLL OVER!’ Stump said. ‘ROLL OVER, DUMBLY!’
Dumbly didn’t roll over either. Instead, it lowered its horns and started growling. Neville crossed his fingers and squinted. This was the first time he’d ever seen a real-live dungle and it didn’t look like it was going to end well.
‘JUMP, DUMBLY!’ Stump yelled. ‘OY, YOU BUNGLER! JU–’
Dumbly suddenly charged across the stage and butted Stump high into the air. As the crowds of auditioning trolls started cheering, the young troll landed with an oomf back to front on the dungle’s shoulders.
‘ABOMINATIA!’ Stump called as his pet galloped off through the hole left by the juggled grandmooma. ‘I’M YOUR WHOPPSIEST FAN!’
There was a long pause, one of the curtains twitched and then a mountain in a green-and-purple flamenco dress clomped onstage. Neville caught his breath. It was Rubella …