Wednesday, November 31 1984.

Dear Diary,
Today I noticed a piece of me was missing. Not like a finger or a toe... a piece of my soul. I'm not sure why it suddenly hit me, maybe I'm going through some sort of midlife crisis, but when I looked into the mirror this morning, I only saw half a troll. Yeah, I know, my life is amazing. I've got a jewel jutting out of my tummy, and beautiful, vibrant hair... still, I feel empty- dark even. Sometimes I look around my room and just stare at all the other figurines and wonder, "Are they satisfied? Do they question existence? Are they..." dare I say it, "happy?" Sure, I've got a smile on my face, but inside, I'm a troll full of tears. I feel as though maybe I understand why we trolls have hidden under bridges, and stolen babies throughout history. Maybe we all get to a certain age where simply being beautiful isn't enough. I caught myself eyeing my master's newborn the other day... and last night on the Discovery Channel they had a special on goats and I was suddenly famished. What's getting into me? I feel as though I'm changing every day. I hope I get to the bottom of this, Diary, I really do. Who knows what I'll wake up and notice tomorrow.
Goodnight,
Trollie

[shortly after this diary entry, Trollie the Troll, a.k.a. Dixie the Bandit, a.k.a. Trevor the GoatHerder, was found with 32 newborns, 58 goats, and a young girl he had abducted. They were hiding out beneath the Thompson State Bridge in LittleRock Maryland. The children and goats were returned to their owners, but Trollie escaped through a drain pipe. If you or anyone you know has any information surrounding Trollie, please don't hesitate to call: 1-800-I-KNOW-WHERE-TROLLIE-IS]