Preisha Writes

Once upon a time, there lived an argumentative, belligerent, nasty troll. Unlike how it is in the storybooks, this troll was surprisingly average in nearly all other aspects, although he never strove to better himself to bring these said aspects up to a higher level. His unfortunate lack in amiability would bring him to face serious consequences in the future.

Since this troll had inadvertently isolated himself from society due to his unpleasant behavior and impoliteness, he was known not as Jeff, his given name, but as Mean And Nasty Jeff. Mean And Nasty Jeff was unaware of the hurtful title given to him, and would continue to live in his fool’s paradise until he received an unpaid parking ticket from 2009 addressed to “Mean And Nasty Jeff”.

On a rainy day in April, Mean And Nasty Jeff went out for a walk to clear his mind. The winter had been dark and bitter, frigid winds sending out legions of snow to drain the colour from the earth. Along the footpath grew a lone weed among the dry carcasses of its kin from the season before. Some may have taken it as a sign of hope or perseverance, a pinnacle of joy amidst the forlorn greys of early spring, but Mean And Nasty Jeff simply made the simple observation of the fact weeds are unwanted and interrupt the uniform of the concrete. He plucked the weed from the crevice it had grown from and tossed it into the road before plunging his hands into the pockets of his suede leather jacket.

A young child had happened to be following Mean And Nasty Jeff with a distasteful look from a swingset across the road. She called out to him.

“Why did you pluck the dandelion from the footpath?”

At first, Mean And Nasty Jeff ignored the child, only glancing her way once before quickening his pace and escaping into a nearby convenience store. He idly stared out the window until a young face moved into frame. The child had followed him, wearing an angry expression.

“Sir, why did you pluck the dandelion? It wasn’t doing anything.”

Mean And Nasty Jeff rolled his eyes and looked down without tilting his head.

“Because weeds are bad for concrete and are ugly, just like you. Haven’t your parents told you not to follow strangers?”

The child did not reply, instead walking off wearing a deep scowl that crumpled her sweet features into a gnarled mask. She went to the register and tugged on the cashier’s hand.

“Mister, that man killed a dandelion.”

The cashier sighed and looked down at her.

“Missy, I can’t do anything about that. This is a free country and he can do whatever he pleases.”

The child burst into tears and proceeded to wail in great detail how the big and scary man had followed her, grabbed her, and assaulted her. The cashier and Mean And Nasty Jeff stared at the girl, not more than five, as her speech became a garbled mess of vowels. Surrounding customers were forming broken lines around Mean And Nasty Jeff, disgusted and horrified faces growing redder as the child cried. A man grabbed his arm and struck a blow. More people, old women, young men, children, all began to take blows at Mean And Nasty Jeff. As it is with people, they soon lost interest and the crowds dissipated, leaving Jeff a bloody mess on the floor. As he lay, the child walked past him and smirked, the cheery bell in the door sounding after her as the embroidered E on her overalls flashed in the fluorescent lights.

A number of weeks later, after Mean And Nasty Jeff had recovered from his beating, he was arrested for the assault and eventual murder of Emeline Johnson.