Barry surveyed the damage to the front lawn: the grass torn up, the dirt strewn about. The dug-out area looked like a small minefield. It had to be trolls.
It was always one thing after another. Last year, they had discovered fairies in the bottom of the garden, and the rose bushes still hadn't recovered.
"We have to do something about it," Jane said.
"I don't know what. I hear trolls won't leave until they find whatever they're looking for."
The turned-up dirt stirred and the golf-ball-sized head of a troll poked out of the dirt. "Would you mind?" came a sleepy, gruff voice, seemingly too loud to come out of the tiny mouth. "We need to get our rest, you know. Busy night tonight."
"Let me try talking with them," Barry said to Jane. He turned to the troll. "You know, you're making a mess of our lawn."
The troll looked around. "Looks O.K. to me. Other than the ugly green spots, of course."
"But we want the grass. Could you just stop digging and leave us alone?"
The troll shook his head. "We have our orders. The Mountain King thinks he dropped his ring of power here a couple of thousand years ago. We got to find it."
"But it may not be here after all this time!"
"Well, don't blame us. We just got the order. Don't worry," the little man said soothingly. "It shouldn't take more than a century or two. If we don't find it by then, we'll call it quits."
"But..."
"I'd love to chat, but I do need my sleep. I'd appreciate it if you kept it quiet during the daylight hours."
The words gave Barry an idea. "I don't know," he said. "We can be very noisy at times."
The troll sighed. "I had hoped for some sort of peaceful coexistence while we finished our job. But just remember: we work at night. We try to be good neighbors and dig quietly. But if you're going to be that way, I'll have the guys get out the jackhammers." The troll smiled, showing uneven brown-stained teeth. "Up to you, mister." It burrowed down into the dug-up earth.
"If I had known the housing development used to be an enchanted forest," Jane said, not for the first time, "I'd never have let you buy--"
"Mom! Dad!" Caroline came screeching out of the house, her hair uncombed, a serious indication of her agitation. "There's an elf in my room!"
"Elves, too?" Barry had heard they made trolls look like a picnic.
"He made a ... a gesture with those pointed ears of his! Daddy, he saw me in my underwear."
"I'll see what I can--"
"Barry," Jane said, "you are not going to do it yourself. I want a professional, and I want him here tomorrow, before anything else shows up!"
"But we can't afford--"
"The O'Malleys next door were able to afford someone, and they don't earn half what we do."
"The O'Malleys had leprechauns," Barry pointed out. "They used the pots of gold to pay for it."
There was a rustling in the bushes. Two small unicorns peered out, then began to run toward Caroline.
"Damn it, Daddy," she said, spotting them. "Now they're going to want to rest their heads in my lap again. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have everyone in the senior class know my personal life?"
"Young lady," Jane said. "If I ever--"
Barry had had enough. "All right! Jane, as soon as I get to work, I'll call an exterminator."
)
Trolls. Elves. Unicorns. Everyone knows they can be an utter nuisance to the suburban homeowner. But is the cure worse than the disease?
