There once was a troll who lived in the forest. He had two troll children and a wife named Doris. One autumn night, he tucked the trollets into bed.

“Tell us a story,” the little one said.

He sighed, “It’s getting late, it’s time for goodnights.”

But they begged and they pleaded and he gave in, “Alright.”

“This is the story of Gerbis, the knight. He was a tough troll who put up a fight. He guarded a castle, tall and true. Then, one day, a dragon came out of the blue. He fought valiantly, with his sword and shield. No matter the cost, he would not yield. The dragon roared viciously, and his bones rattled. He knew then that he was losing this battle. The dragon opened its jaws and damned the knight to its belly. The troll’s body like a donut and his blood like jelly.”

“The dragon ate him up and Gerbis was no more?”

It was then that he noticed the looks of horror.

“Uh…well…you see…Gerbis had magical armor of steel. Little did the dragon know, he’d be its last meal. Gerbis lived still in the dragon’s belly, his sword in hand. What he did next was forever famous over the land. He took his sword and sliced the dragon from within. He emerged from its insides through its scaly skin.”

The trollets breathed heavy sighs of relief. After all, happy endings were a vital motif.

“Wow,” they exclaimed, “Gerbis is the best!”

The troll smiled, glad he added the rest.