"Well, I'm sure they'd love to go back to putting their own children up for the ritual slaughter, but it's so much less popular with the home crowds-- yeah, coffee, two," this was was to the waitress, with a finger held up to represent the both of them. The woman swung off in a swirl of chiffon, her hair already styled and curled into candy-corn horns.

Troll Victor, Troll fashions.

"We're here as a replacement. It's harder to get mad about it when you're only watching a bunch of foreigners get their guts ripped out every other month. You ever try coffee?"