By Trollgur Drek, Ancient Troll & Occasional Paparazzi – Garth Brooks
It all began Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old) for a creature like me, but the mountain winds whispered of change, and down from the misty fjords I stomped—straight into a honky-tonk weekend with none other than the country warlock himself… Garth Brooks.
We met, as all great tales begin, In Another’s Eyes—his sparkly ones glinting beneath that signature black hat, mine glowing like swamp-fire beneath my brow ridge. He looked at me and said, “You look like a troll with Unanswered Prayers.” I looked at him and said, “You look like a man who could use a drinking horn.”
We set out for the bar, where we truly found Friends in Low Places. A goblin named Stig was bartending, and a banshee crooned The Dance off-key in the corner. Garth, bless his soul, climbed on stage, and suddenly that place Ain’t Goin’ Down (‘Til the Sun Comes Up).
We went Two of a Kind, Workin’ on a Full House of ale, mischief, and midnight chili. At one point, I challenged a minotaur to a clog-off while Garth sang Papa Loved Mama—a tune that turned out to be eerily popular among cave-dwelling folk.
By Saturday, Garth wanted peace. “Let’s walk the cliffs,” he said, “somewhere That Summer.” So off we trudged, me with my walking boulder, he with a guitar and a suspiciously clean shirt. We talked of heartbreak, hobbits, and halibut. He told me of If Tomorrow Never Comes, and I told him of the time I accidentally married a river sprite. He nodded like he understood.
That evening, we lit a fire by the lake. He played To Make You Feel My Love as I roasted marsh-snails on a stick. “You’re alright, Garth,” I said, half-choked with nostalgia and snail goo.
“You too, Trollgur,” he replied. “You’ve got a Shameless kind of charm.”
We parted ways at dawn. He vanished with the morning mist, humming The River as he strolled toward civilization. I returned to my cave, heart full, head aching, pants mysteriously gone.
And that, younglings, was the weekend Garth Brooks and Trollgur Drek wrote a saga of friendship, music, and muddy footprints across the soul of country and stone.
—End of Report, etched in bark and hung near the fjord tavern ??
?️ Trollgur’s Comments from the Boulder Bench:
- “That minotaur looks like he just realized marshmallows aren’t made of meat.”
— He tried to toast it on his horn. Didn’t end well. - “The banshee’s singing made three goblins cry, two flee, and one propose.”
— Honestly, best vocals I’ve heard since a rockslide yodeled down Mount Skjeggestad. - “Garth’s strum summoned a herd of enchanted goats. We’re still trying to get ‘em out of the outhouse.”
- “That’s not moss in my hair. That’s a squirrel family. They pay rent in acorns.”
- “This was the first time the forest had a twangquake. Seismic activity caused by country chords.”
Speaking of legendary country icons, you might be interested in learning more about Garth Brooks, widely praised as one of country music’s greatest performers. If you’re fascinated by magical beings and quirky folklore, exploring the mythical creature known as a Troll could reveal charming tales from Scandinavian culture. Additionally, if heartfelt melodies are your cup of tea, check out some insights into the classic ballad “To Make You Feel My Love”, written by the legendary Bob Dylan and artfully covered by Brooks himself. And since we’re traversing through mythical adventures with enchanting goats, you’ll surely enjoy the delightful legends surrounding Goats in Mythology and Folklore.
