Fell Fall

Fall Fell into winter today. It reminds me of when I first found my hammer....
Long ago when I was a much youger monster, I would spend my days stairing out of my hovell looking up at the misty mountains. The troll who lived there made his beer from the gizzards of goats that would pass on the way to greener pasture. Un beknown to the troll beer made from goat innards has no bubbles. For years the troll tryed getting bubbles into his beer. He tried yelling at it, stomping on it, punching it, even banging his head against it. Nothing worked. In-raged he struck the keg sharply with his best hammer. The beer reacted violently and blew the keg to peices. The troll was about to cry when he noticed small puddles of the foamyest bubbleyest beer he had ever seen all about his cave floor. The hammer, forever lost to the troll, was blasted clean of the mountain. It landed on my head. Thats why I can't spell good. Some folk say it getts real stormy up on that mountain. The loudest thunder you ever heard. I try to tell them it because a troll lives up there. But they don't listen much. "No one cares for troll beer" they say. "It aint got no bubbles".