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Registering into their old brains, was a good feeling like no other; detecting that „this salt'
and clean meat was creating just the right amount of „taste satisfaction'.
And in no time, they were gulping down bowl after bowl; sending proper stew down their
dirty bellies which became larger and larger.
“You're not supposed to gulp it down! You experience the taste! Like gentlemen!” The
Wildman tried to control them – with his words falling on deaf ears. “Oh crap.” He said to
himself while stepping aside from the pot - which the trolls rushed and „competed' to clear.
A few minutes later, the stew was finished, with the trolls licking their bowls as Cob
walked towards the Wildman while sucking out the last few drops from the big pot.
“You ain't taking any stew?” He asked the Wildman.
“No Cob, I'm fine.” The Wildman responded as he continued to make his bed – Heaping
freshly fallen leaves on top of the ones he had slept on the previous night - Spreading his layer
piece of soft, furry hide over the top.
“Where are you going?” Bob asked the Wildman who was walking into the dark towards
the woods.
“Private matters.” The Wildman replied as he disappeared.
And upon returning a few minutes later, he found all the Trolls dead a sleep on their
„beds'; Stopping in exhaustion upon laying eyes on Gob – Snoring on the new bed he had just