The troll eyed him with a mixture of disgust and boredom as he approached the footbridge. “My bridge. You pay toll.”
“Let me ask you a question, troll. If—”
“No questions. Toll. Then pass.”
“Question, then toll, then pass. Your bridge, understood. If someone builds another bridge, just over there, do you collect tolls on both?”
The troll answered impatiently, “No both: one troll, one bridge, one toll. Pay now.”
“I think no,” he said. The townspeople were already approaching with their ox-drawn carts, laden with wood and stone. The troll managed to look even more disgusted, and increasingly forlorn.
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