If a three-hundred-foot-tall folk monster
was rampaging its way across the country on a mission of vengeance, what would you do? This earthen abomination walked straight out
of a fairytale and he’s got a bone to pick with the people that wiped out his family. Sure, they’ve all been dead for hundreds
of years, but he’s not gonna stop until he’s made sure of it. One thing’s for sure, we’d better find
his weakness before Oslo’s wiped off the map, although it might not even be the creature
that does it. I’m going to break down the mistakes made,
what you should do, and how to beat the Troll in TROLL. It’s just another day in paradise for the
men and women building the Dovre Railroad: the roar of machinery, inhaling dust with
every breath, and the screeching of eco-geeks rallying against the steady march of human
expansion. Must be nice having enough free time to stand
around screaming all day while the people building the world around you work their fingers
to the bone. In times like these, it’s the little things
that make it all worth it, like clacking off a huge pile of explosives and watching the
look of sadness and horror on the bleeding hearts’ faces. Strange, I think I just heard something echo
out of the tunnel during the blast. I sounded like, “get a job.” All right, fun’s over. Time to Rock and Stone. Hang on, what’s that groaning sound? Did someone just grab an egg? Ah, crap, I sure hope everyone’s beneficiaries
are up to date. Huh, maybe they should have listened to the
rock-huggers, after all. Nah, let’s be real. No one’s ever actually going to do that. What I really don’t get is why they wouldn’t
try to pile back in the pickup truck and go for the Warthog run. The tunnel is long enough that you felt the
need to drive in, so what exactly makes you think you’ll be able to make it out on foot
without getting pulverized? Meanwhile, back in Oslo, something about this
tragedy has gotten the attention of the Ministry of Defense, prompting them to scramble a recon
sortie to take a closer look at the situation. Wait, you’re really breaking out the F-35s
for this? Classic government spending. Why use inexpensive drones or helicopters,
or even a Cessna, when you can shell out $5K a minute sending Maverick and Goose to snap
a few Polaroids? Let’s see here. Looks like we got a big hole in the ground. Excellent work, boys. Mission accomplished. Better alert the prime minister about this,
not because hundreds of innocent people were just obliterated and/or trapped under a freaking
mountain, of course. Don’t even bother mentioning that. We’re just looking for her expert opinion
on the matter. Your prime minister, everybody, clearly the
well-informed leader Norway needs in its time of crisis. Then again, it’s hardly a shocker that a
world leader would be an imbecile. Probably the most realistic thing about this
movie. However, it turns out the Devil’s Gullet
isn’t the only thing this multi-million-dollar fly-over turned up. There appears to be a pair of giant footprints
leading away from the site of the cave in, at least according to the PM’s milquetoast
little lapdog, or ya know, anyone with working eyeballs. Nah, don’t be silly, dude. This is no time to go forming your own opinions
based on concrete information staring you right in the face. What we really need to do is roundup a bunch
of eggheads to explain this phenomenon in ways that justifies additional grant funding,
which brings us to the plucky heroine of this colossal crapshow. Elsewhere, Nora Tidemann and team are in the
process of celebrating their latest addition to the fossil record, when a few soldiers
in a Huey swoop in to ferry her off to the brain trust. Not sure why they’d be bringing in a paleontologist
when whatever this is already dug itself up and walked away, but screw it—blank check,
remember? While we’re at it, let’s grab a botanist
and a couple astronomers and fly them in on an SR-71. Oh, well, I’m sure she’ll be the one to
crack this mystery wide open, ya know, once she’s done complaining. Okay, chill out, She Hulk. You think they brought you to a war room in
a secret underground bunker to watch Jurassic Park? Obviously, what we’re dealing with here
is serious crap of the highest magnitude, so maybe stop machinegunning the messenger
and just appreciate the fact they actually place value on your knowledge of dinosaurs. Wow, thanks doc. Aren’t you just a joy to be around? I’m totally rooting for you and not the
giant cryptid about to carve its way across through Scandinavia. You realize you’re wearing a shirt that
says, “I dig dinos” on it, right? I can’t rip on her too much though, cuz
while the neck beards are busy pinning this all on swamp gas and weather balloons, she’s
the only one that looks at the photographs and sees footprints, which is exactly what
they are. I mean, good God, is everyone else in here
on spray paint? All the rest of these so-called scientists
should be taken out and horse whipped for not immediately making that observation. Oh, but you just know they’re going to call
it preposterous. “Ummm, actually, there are no animals that
big, so therefore they must be a series of identical sinkholes separated at fixed intervals.” Fortunately, before she’s forced to address
this stupidity, one of the defense…worker…people comes barging in with rock-solid evidence. As we all know, the most important part of
protesting is posting videos of it on Social Media, and it just so happens one of the activists
was in the middle of this when the collapse occurred, giving us a front row seat to her
and her friends getting absolutely shrecked by falling debris. I don’t know. Might just be a smudge on the lens. Wait, so you mean to tell me that neither
of the fighter jets that arrived on the scene within minutes spotted the literal giant the
size of an upright warship lumbering away from the crater? Awesome. Just your tax dollars at work. It’s a good thing miss insta-clout was more
concerned about filming the eruption than running for her life. Pinky swear we totally won’t let her sacrifice
be in vain. Following the Mensa meeting, Lapdog informs
Nora she’s been made scientific advisor to the PM. Yeah, don’t get too excited for her. This is pretty much like when President Camacho
did the same for Not Sure. You’re not a genius; you’re just the smartest
idiot. For her first assignment, she’s being sent
to investigate the site of where King Kong smooshed some old couple’s home for, like,
no freaking reason. For real, there’s literally nothing around
in every direction. Thing is probably just trying to get a rise
out of people. Once on the ground, she meets up with Captain
Chris Holmes, who brings her up to speed on the situation, ya know, cuz all this really
needs an explanation. Unfortunately, besides it making sad whale
noises while tearing the crap out of their house, the homeowners can’t provide any
real information on the creature that did this, and there’s no trace of any biological
material inside any of the footprints. What they do find, however, is some kind of
pungent smell lingering in the area. According to Nora, it sort of smells like
nature, only more than that. Man, if only there were a word to describe
this. Hypernature, of course. Jesus Christ, if she’s really the smartest
person in Norway, it’s not looking good. With the addition of Captain Holmes to their
party for… reasons, Commander Shepard and company set out to study the area where the
giant footprints suddenly disappeared. Oh, “Camouflage?” she writes in her notebook. Well, unless it somehow camouflaged itself
down about a thousand tons, we’d still be seeing the footprints, wouldn’t we? Otherwise, it would still have to be right
there, so let’s go check it out. Wait, on second thought, let’s not. Instead, I say we have Captain Boyfriend over
here ask his buddies to work this place over with the 155s until it looks like Verdun. After all, it was an explosion that got this
thing moving in the first place, right? Having reached a dead end, Nora begrudgingly
admits they need to bring in an expert, and luckily, she knows just the guy. A brief chopper ride later, they arrive at
a rundown shack in the middle of nowhere, only to be met by a wide-eyed old hermit with
a coach gun, and no pants. The surprises keep coming, however, as it
turns out No-bark Noonan here is actually Nora’s father, although apparently there’s
a bit of estrangement involved here. I can’t imagine why. Really? You’re gonna go to the troll guy for help
and then act all mad off when he starts talking about trolls? Besides, what else could it possibly be? No, no, you’re right; it’s just too farfetched. What we got here is a Pacific Rim Jaeger in
toe shoes using jump jets. Although, it did come out of a mountain, and
there’s no burn marks on the ground. Hmmm, this really only leaves trolls. God, why does everyone have to cling to the
whole “it can’t possibly be (dot, dot, dot)” schtick. “Zombies? That’s ridiculous. Millions of people must have all ate pounds
of Dr. Teals epsom salts at the same time.” Did you not see the swimming pool sized footprints
going on for miles? What about the footage of what can only be
described as a massive humanoid creature rising from dormancy beneath a mountain? He isn’t asking you to believe these things
turn to stone in sunlight or smell the blood of Christians, ya know, yet, but with all
other explanations out the window, isn’t it possible that some of that folklore might
have been based around a modicum of truth? Despite Tobias’ troll trutherism still forming
a wedge in his relationship with Nora, he eagerly invites himself along for the ride,
and the gang dusts off to revisit the spot where the tracks left off. Much to his daughter’s embarrassment, the
old man’s methods prove a bit… unorthodox, and his constant use of the T
word is giving her a massive flare up of everyone’s favorite character flaw. What, you didn’t think I was just gonna
ignore her unresolved daddy issues that will almost certainly affect her decision making
throughout this entire ordeal, did you? Face it. It’s Current Year. If today’s writers had any original tools
up their sleeves, I’d probably be out of a job. Just then, Nora notices that smell again,
ya know… Yes. Hypernature, only this time it’s coming
straight from the source. Yikes. Imagine alienating yourself from your father,
and then scolding him like a child in front of complete strangers, only to come face to
face with thirty stories of “I told you so.” Sure, he’s not exactly the most grounded
of individuals, but Nora’s not exactly one to talk. After all, the rest of you must be out of
your friggin minds to actually get out and walk around the end of the bunny trail like
that. What, do you think this thing just wiggled
its nose and teleported back to Narnia or whatever? In fact, the entire MOD would have to be completely
freaking nanners not to immediately blitz the house when they saw where the sidewalk
ends. Oh, that’s right, they’re still thinking
it might be some kind of high school prank. In that case, it’s a good thing we were
able to get airborne before the Big, Fugly Giant gobbled us up like Raisinets. Otherwise, this thing would probably be standing
right on top of them before they managed to pull their collective heads out. Now that we’ve finally tracked the creature
down, we can’t let this opportunity go to waste. Instead of booking it back to base after a
ten-second zoom call, we should loiter outside his reach until the military can establish
a 24/7 elephant walk of RQ-20 Puma surveillance drones to monitor its every move. From there, the primary goal is containment. As long as we can keep the troll down in this
Ravine, we don’t have to worry about collateral damage, and that goes for both him and us. Look, I’m no military strategist by any
means, but at this point, I think we can justify rolling in a few of Norway’s several dozen
F35As to see what big boy’s made out of, and with Dovre only being about 150 miles
from a Norwegian Air Base, we could have them on the scene within minutes of leaving the
runway. Since we don’t have to worry about stealth,
we can take full advantage of each jet’s four internal and six external weapon stations
to weigh them down with as many JDAMs and AGMs as possible. That said, I’d still kick things off by
raking him head to toe with a GAU-22A rotary cannon in case all it takes to put him down
is a well-placed tungsten penetrator from a 25-millimeter APEX round. If he’s somehow still standing after all
that, then the remote location would allow us to slap him with a few home-grown land
attack cruise missiles without the risk of endangering human life or infrastructure. And before you start tapping away in the comments
about how old troll face is a mythical being and could, therefore, be impervious to all
our mortal devices, Papa Tobi already mentioned that most of his kind were wiped out during
the Christianization of Norway, which took place like a millennium ago. I mean, come on, what the heck could they
have had back then we don’t have ten-thousand-fold now, ye olde death ray? If it makes you feel better, we can spare
a few minutes to draw crosses on our missiles or douse them all in Holy Water before the
main event. One way or another, today the world becomes
a little less magical. Or not, because what do you think the MOD
opts for upon seeing the giant, lumbering biped with no means of ranged attack? Yeah, cue the obligatory “boots on the ground”
debacle. I wonder how this is going to go. Oh, and just for fun let’s have the untrained
civilians tag along, ya know, the pathetic wimpy one, the NPD girl boss with daddy issues,
and the semi-sane, troll-pilled geriatric that hates humanity. Whoa, whoa. Hold up. Isn’t that against the rules? Well, she did ask nicely. Great. Can’t wait to see how many brave soldiers
are sacrificed to save a bunch of stupid randos after they get cut off. Ah, yes, such refreshing pessimism. Can always count on Tobias for a truth bomb. Of course, once you see their half-baked battle
plan, it becomes pretty clear the geezer might be onto something. So, you’re facing down an unprecedented
threat of unknown magnitude and all you’re willing to throw at are four self-propelled
guns some distance away and a couple dozen grunts with all of two AT4s to share between
them. No air support, no main battle tanks, and
not even a single CV90 infantry fighting vehicle to work it over with the Bofors gun. You’re all gonna freaking die! First off, you’re springing the ambush by
sending two small teams right up to the troll to pop off with unguided, should-fire rockets,
and judging by the blasts, I’m gonna say you went for the high explosive rounds instead
of the high penetration. And then, when that fails, you light him up
with indirect fire from the M109s, which you can’t even do without nearly obliterating
the retreating soldiers. Sure, the guns manage to keep him pinned down
for a minute, but once they inevitably stop firing, you have nothing else to hit him with,
which is why he’s currently stomping you all to death like a bunch of stupid cockroaches. Okay, let’s rewind back to life for a second. The four guys that they sent in first must
have just gotten caught with the general’s daughter, cause they were basically being
sacrificed to the troll. Yes, the Gungooses they rode in on are awesome
and I want one, but what’s the point of putting a bunch of squishy dudes with minimal
firepower fifty yards away from this thing when a sabot round from the main gun on one
of Norway’s fifty-sum-odd Leopard 2A4s can penetrate over twenty inches of RHA from a
mile away. With RHA being significantly harder to penetrate
than the stone armor the troll’s wearing, those APFSDS rounds shouldn’t have any trouble
poking through its skull and into it’s brain based on the perceived thickness around the
eye. Norways also got FGM-148 Javelin’s which
can crack over 30 inches of RHA. Sure the troll doesn’t give off a heat signature,
but you can direct-fire the Javelins at its head. If anything, we should have used the ATVs
to lure him into a kill zone pre-sighted for artillery fire, then once he’s temporarily
immobilized, we light him up from a distance with no fewer than a dozen main battle tanks
and all the Javelins they could muster until they run out of ammo. As they say, you don't stop shooting until
they hit the ground. At that point, if Big Chungus isn’t leaking
like a sieve, we should all GTFO and let the flyboys handle it, ya kn ow like we should
have done in the first place. Oh, and that reminds me, just like drillers
in the beginning, why did everyone choose to disperse on foot when they would have easily
jumped in their vehicles and driven away? Do you honestly think you’re going to outrun
something with legs the size of cellphone towers? Predictably, the goat rodeo concludes with
our heroes among the sole survivors, along with this guy. Yeah, you’d better pray, dude; I can’t
even find your name in the credits. That said, I don’t see this working out
for anybody, only one thing to do now. And sure enough, it seems our friend has caught
a whiff of something tasty. No, not that. Evidently, the stories of trolls being able
to smell the blood of Christian’s weren’t as greatly exaggerated as we thought. Lucky for team Nora, they figured this out
in time to split before getting munched alongside Saint Nacho. Hey, man, I know getting eaten alive by a
troll is scary and all, but if you’re gonna go out anyway, the least you could do is clack
off a couple claymores inside his esophagus. If it works, the rest of us totally won’t
take credit for it; I promise. However, instead of taking advantage of the
man’s death to escape with his friends, old Papa Tobi decides that looked pretty cool
and rushes in to get himself devoured too. Sadly, before he can get his wish, one of
the last remaining soldiers starts popping off with the ma deuce, and it doesn’t go
well for either of them. Yeah, nice try, Audi Murphy. What, did you sleep through the part where
this freakshow shrugged off multiple direct hits from a howitzer? As for Tobias, old man must have eaten his
Wheaties this morning, because instead of being smeared across the grass like raspberry
jam, he somehow manages to keep it together long enough to ramble incoherently for a few
seconds. Yeah, I don’t know. Something about a palace and a kingdom. Dude just broke every bone in his body. Nothing he says is probably going to make
sense at this point. That said, might be worth checking in with
the royal family in case they have any hidden troll knowledge. After all, the Norwegian Monarchy’s been
around since 872 AD. If it’s true that troll-kind was eradicated
around that time, it’s possible the crown might have some kind of record on it. Following the dismal failure of their first
attempt, the MOD is now planning to hit the troll with an airstrike, ya know, a full twelve
hours after tossing dozens of perfectly good men into the meat grinder with woefully insufficient
firepower. However, upon hearing that the Norwegian government
is about to make a half-decent decision for the first time since this nightmare first
began, Nora immediately flips out and demands they do something painfully stupid instead. Assume? You just witnessed this thing sniff out a
man’s religion. There’s definitely some things the fairytales
got right. That said, this thing’s also been walking
around in broad daylight, so who knows which parts we’re supposed to believe. Fact is, if Beowulf knew about Apache Helicopters,
he would’ve definitely wanted one, so how about we save the hopes and dreams for when
we’ve exhausted all the conventional options that we can actually comprehend. Nah, screw it, let’s just run with the very
first thing the paleontologist thinks of and put men’s lives at risk making it a reality. And just what is this surefire plan? Well, because the trolls in the fairytales
hated the sounds of church bells, Nora figures they can just strap a bunch of bells to helicopters
and hover around the real deal, causing him to… question mark. Yeah, I might be willing to try this if the
folklore said this made them explode, but for all we know it’s just going to send
him into a murderous rage. Oh, well, no time for follow up questions. The birds are already in the air, and just
in time to catch the colossus as it stomps its way through yet another easily avoidable,
occupied structure. This time it’s some kind of weirdo, troll-themed
family fun park, or something. Sure, everyone’s a troll-lover until a troll
shows up. Just imagine seeing something like this lumbering
in out of nowhere only to have a bunch of government helicopters sweep in and start
ringing bells at it. Yeah, we’re not living in a simulation or
anything. What’s even crazier, however, is that it
actually seems to be working. Then again, you try keeping your composure
with four huge church bells ringing right next to your head. Either way, might be a good idea to fly a
little bit higher. I mean, right now you’re just barely outside
his reach. Closer!? What are you, drunk? The bells are clearly taking a toll on him
from here. Moving closer is just going to make it easier
for him to swat us out of the sky. Just like that. *Sigh* Yeah, that’s pretty much how I saw this
going from the start. I mean, come on. You think a massive chunk of metal swinging
back and forth on the skids is going to affect our ability to maneuver at all? If anything, we should have tried hitting
him with amplified recordings of a church bell via LRAD. At least then we could maintain a safe distance. Frankly, I’m surprised it took the troll
as long as it did to turn the tables. What’s really shocking; however, is the
way Hugo catches one of the falling choppers before it straight up pancakes these two brainiacs
down below. Let me guess. Now we’re supposed to believe he’s really
Good-guy Greg after watching him tromp through someone’s home and go crashing through a
crowded park full of innocent bystanders. Speaking of which, you’re probably wondering
why the theme park hadn’t already been evacuated. Well, that’s because the Norwegian government
didn’t want to cause a panic. Yeah, looks like you got one. Oh, and now since you didn’t bother to warn
the public about the giant, man-eating beast marauding through the countryside, they’re
going to assume you’ve been lying to them about all sorts of other stuff as well. I mean, let’s face it. You definitely have, but now it’s gonna
be a lot harder. Can we go back to the kid under the helicopter? What the freak are you doing standing under
a crashing helicopter. Run. And what is your dad even doing? You left him standing out in the open under
the MOD’s inevitably catastrophic crap show of a Troll Raid, and now when he’s about
to get blended up your bright idea is to throw your body on top of him. Like that will do anything.. You picked the worst of the three options. The other two would be to 1. Stand back and let Darwinian evolution burn
out the dead brush, or two, use nature’s 5 scoops of preworkout to pick his butt up
and shove him out of harm's way. I digress. The good news is that now that the cat is
out of the bag, we might as well invoke Article 5 of NATO and have Uncle SAM come to the rescue,
ya know, show us how to really spend money. Of course, that would also expand our toolbox
to include the literal nuclear option, which might be worth considering with this thing
just a few hours outside the capital. I’m thinking a good, old fashioned B61-12
guided thermonuclear bunker-buster. Not only can it penetrate three meters of
solid earth without generating much fallout, it’ll really annoy all the rock huggers,
ya know, once they unbury themselves from the rockslide. That said, if we’re trying to keep our atomic
footprint down to a bare minimum, I guess we could always seek out a true believer willing
to pull a Major Kong and feed himself to the troll while strapped to a B54 Mod 2 man-portable
atomic demolition munition. Just a thought. With Operation Jingle Bells being a complete
failure, Nora is called back to the Prime Minister’s office for a thorough dressing
down. However, the way she sees it, this was actually
a step in the right direction. An effect? For real? That’s what you’re going with? The dummy bells were even less effective than
the artillery strike, and at least with the guns you wouldn’t have to put valuable military
resources and personnel within arm’s reach of this thing. PM should have canned her the moment she opened
her mouth with that nonsense. Now in addition to the fact they withheld
critical troll-related information from the people, they have to deal with the national
embarrassment of having taken strategic advice from someone who stares at dusty old bones
all day. However, despite falling out of favor with
the Citadel Counsel, it seems Commander Shepard still commands the respect of her crew, with
her faithful Lapdog offering to give her a ride back to…wherever. The two make their way through the mid-evacuation
gridlock, all the while Nora continues poring over her father’s notes. Evidently, Tobias thought the key to all this
was something called Sinding, which Lapdog immediately associates with the Lord Chamberlain
of the Royal Palace, Ricard Sinding. Hey, ya know, given your father’s last words,
I’d say that checks out. After all, what else could palace mean, except
the freaking palace! Should probably have followed up on that before
staking your reputation on Pavlov’s Air Raid. Upon reaching the royal manor, the troll team
nearly gets dome sliced by the guards. Yeah, I get time’s a factor and all, but
it probably wasn’t a good idea to go racing up to the front gate like you had a trunk
full of wired-up artillery shells. Fortunately, Sinding just so happens to recognize
Nora purely off her resemblance to Tobias. Once inside, the old man spills immediately
and takes them down to visit one of Norway’s deepest, darkest secrets. I mean, literally; it’s in a pitch-black
cave underneath the palace. Of course, given the nature of what the secret
is, that’s probably where it belongs. Yeah, brace for exposition dump. So, it turns out Nora’s dad was right about
what happened to the trolls, and evidently this is where the final blow was struck. According to Sinding, the crusaders ambushed
the uglies and Red Wedding’d them down to a single pair of survivors: the Troll King
and his last remaining son. However, it didn’t stop there. The knights then used the youngling to lure
his father into a trap they laid in the Dovre mountains, burying them both alive beneath
millions of tons of rock and stone, that is until mankind came knocking once again. Yeah, cool, story bro, but how exactly does
this help us out with the current situation? I mean, the least you could do is tell us
how the knights went about racking up all these kills. Eh, never mind, Nora would probably just blow
it off in favor of strapping some comically oversized object to a vehicle too small to
reasonably transport it. And by the looks of it, those gears are already
turning. Ah, Jesus. So, wait a minute. We’re supposed to believe that at no point
while this thing was walking around in broad daylight did it soak up enough rays to pull
a Dracula? Give me a break. If Nora’s pocket flashlight was enough to
set their friggin bones on fire, then whatever trace amounts coming through the clouds and/or
reflecting off the landscape would be more than enough to light this idiot up like a
roman candle. I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m just saying we should be open to the
possibility that we’re dealing with a day-walker here. Afterall, you sure as heck don’t become
King of the Trolls off your good looks. Ya know what? Fine. I guess I should be grateful her plan doesn’t
involve singing it to sleep. Speaking of which, Nora’s latest million-dollar
idea is to load a baby troll skull in the back of ye olde Chevy pickup and use it to
bait the Liver King into a crossfire of industrial UV lights. And just where is she gonna get these lights,
you might ask? I dunno, that’s Garrus Vakarian’s problem. Seriously, dude, get on it. Birthday boy’s gonna be here any second. Check that. Looks like he’s already kicked in the front
door. Just then, Lapdog receives troubling news
from a friend in the MOD. With the main barricade having been breached,
the PM has authorized the use of an experimental plot device to put the troll down for good,
while also leveling most of Oslo. Hey, remember when they were gonna try this
out in the middle of nowhere, but then you were like “no, let’s use bells instead.” Boy, that was fun. Realizing this won’t give her nearly enough
time to solve everything her way and no one else’s, Nora tells Lapdog to have it rescheduled,
so he asks his friend to just hack the F35 carrying the missile and stop it from firing. How hard could that be? My, God, she actually said it. Oh, and guess what. She does it immediately. All right, okay, I’m making it sound easier
than it was. It actually took her three tries. Yeah, I’d say the Norwegian Military needs
to watch a few more Mental Outlaw videos, but I honestly don’t know enough about cyber
security to say whether something like this is plausible. I mean, she is a professional geek working
from the inside. I dunno. Computer nerds, lend me your knowledge down
in the comments section. With their ticking clock forestalled, Nora
stomps on the gas to go wrangle herself a troll, and it doesn’t take long before she’s
got one. Oof, nothing like the sight of your child’s
skull being lugged around like a used couch to light a fire under your butt. One thing’s for sure, Captain Holmes and
his men better be ready to light this sucker up like Snoop Dogg’s basement. Otherwise, we’ll probably be wishing that
super missile came in right on time. Bro, are you kidding me? Unless four eyes can hack the troll, we’re
getting there when we get there. Get a move on. “All right, boys, we have ten minutes until
we’re all violently stomped to death by a mythical creature, and as I’ve already
explained that’s not enough time to ready the trap, so let me go ahead and spend two
whole minutes monologuing like Thomas J. Whitmore instead of actually taking care of our critically
important part of the plan.” Yeah, thanks a lot, Captain. Luckily, we’re able to make up some time
after losing the baby skull out the back of the truck. Whoa, whoa, why are you turning around? What’d do you think the two of you can dead
lift three tons of bone by yourselves? Oh, great, now the troll’s making sad faces
while staring introspectively at its own reflection. I mean, come on. You were literally just using the slaughtered
remains of its offspring to lure it into a death trap. Don’t tell me you’re catching feels now. Eventually, Nora manages to staunch her bleeding
heart long enough to realize the feeling isn’t mutual and whips the pickup around in a perfect
180, ya know, just like she was taught in paleontologist school. And by the looks of it, she’s right on time. The defense minister himself finally caught
on to le heckin awesome hacker chick’s shenanigans, and she was swiftly dealt with in the harshest
manner known to the Norwegian military: being harshly told to stop and getting her laptop
taken away. Now that the missile systems are back online,
we only have a couple minutes max to reach the ambush point, and Chris’s team still
hasn’t finished setting up the lights. Hmmm, I wonder why? With the finish line now insight, Nora, realizes
they’re going to have to lose some weight to have any hope of outrunning the troll,
so she orders Lapdog to jettison himself away from the vehicle, but it’s still not enough. However, before trollzilla can dish out the
coup de grace, one of the military vehicles just sorta honks its horn a few times, and
he completely forgets she ever existed. Just then, Captain Holmes throws the switch,
instantly engulfing the target in an aura of unspeakable torment, only it’s too late;
the F35 has already started its attack run. Nah, I’m just kidding. The pilot sees everyone before launching the
strike and the general calls it off, ya know, even though they were right about to level
an entire city wherein there would inevitably be people that didn’t evacuate. Man, we are just dodging bullets left and
right. Unfortunately, there’s still one final threat
we can’t escape: misplaced compassion. Holy crap, just because it’s ugly and bearded
does not make it your father. We all saw what happened after the artillery
strike. Someone, quick, shoot her in the back before
her daddy issues get us all killed! Miraculously, Nora’s unchecked flip flopping
doesn’t immediately result in everyone being eaten alive. Instead, the troll king appears to heed her
desperate pleas for him to return to the mountain, except there’s one thing they’re all forgetting. Time to say good night, or should I say, “good
morning,” which is what a normal hero would have said in a world where people haven’t
brutally conditioned to despise their own kind. “Oh, humans are the real monsters.” Barf. Rest in pieces, smelly. And with the dawning of a new day, Norway
is finally safe from its own folklore, or is it? In the end, the Troll finally got put in the
dirt, although not without taking dozens of lives and causing God knows how many dollars
in property damage. That said, had the Ministry of Defense actually
bothered to launch anything more than a half-baked ambush involving only a tiny fraction of the
firepower at their disposal, they probably could have pinned this thing down for a tanning
session long before it ever reached city limits, and for that reason, I think TROLL was beaten. Moral of the story, always put on sunscreen
before a rampage.
