A customer walks out of the troll store without buying a troll.
ERIC: What the fuck did you say to him?
HARPER: He wanted a Firefighter Troll. I said we’re out of stock.
ERIC: Is this kindergarten? Do you need a juicy box?
Harper’s eyes well up.
ERIC: When a customer asks about a Firefighter Troll, you tell him we have a Firefighter Troll, and it comes with a Dalmatian Troll and a plush Firefighter Troll Fire Truck, and it will all be ready by MONDAY. You better be running down the street to get him. Go, go, go!
Harper runs out the door.
ERIC: Our budget is one thousand dollars for raw materials for the trolls. We’re on a KNIFE’S EDGE here with these Scandinavian troll dolls that we craft with LOVING CARE.
A dinner party at Yasmin’s house.
YASMIN’S BOYFRIEND: Oh, you work at a troll store. I used to have one of those. I loved my vampire troll!
HARPER: These aren’t your mass-market, neon-hair fucking microplastic-generating Dreamworks-owned rubber-flesh assembly-line Happy Meal fucking collectibles. Each one is unique, crafted in the old way. They all have whimsy. They are enchanting. They’re made with real horse hair and acorns.
YASMIN’S BOYFRIEND: Jesus, okay.
Upbeat synths play.
Harper does ketamine.
Two minutes until the store closes.
RISHI: SOMEBODY GET ME A FIVE-INCH LIBRARIAN TROLL WITH GREEN TORTOISESHELL SPECTACLES YESTERDAY, OR I AM GOING TO BLOW MY FUCKING BRAINS OUT.
Everyone is at their desks working hard at handcrafting Scandinavian trolls in the old way, with acorns for noses and bead eyes.
KENNY: Okay, Yasmin, let’s hear your pitch for a new troll.
YASMIN: Um, now? I thought that was tomorrow…
KENNY: Yes, now! Gather ’round everyone for Yasmin’s killer troll pitch.
Everyone turns to watch. Yasmin blushes.
YASMIN: Um, okay, it’s like… A Fairy Troll—
JACKIE: Like Wish Keeper Troll, River Fairy Troll, Wood Sprite Troll? How fuckin’ original!
YASMIN: Oh… well, my troll would be, more of a fire fairy—
KENNY: Unbelievable.
JACKIE: Trolls hate fire. Sunlight turns them to stone.
KENNY: There’s a reason we don’t let new grads pitch, princess.
YASMIN: I’m sorry…
JACKIE: Is she going to cry now? Fuck’s sake.
Yasmin runs off crying, then does blow with Robert in the bathroom.
Greg and Harper are on the troll shop floor. Everyone else has left.
GREG: It’s late. Fancy a bevvie?
HARPER: I can’t. Eric needs these new Forest Trolls dressed by the morning. Some big client.
GREG: You know he can’t make you stay up all night.
Harper shrugs.
GREG: Just out of curiosity, which Forest Trolls?
HARPER: Pathfinder Troll, Birdwatcher Troll, River Spirit Troll, and Mushroom Gatherer Troll.
GREG: Okay.
Daria confronts Clement in the troll doll workshop.
DARIA: I’ll speak plainly: you’re a weight on your team, Clement. You’re dragging our troll numbers down.
CLEMENT: I invented Hippie Troll, which was our best seller for seven consecutive quarters!
DARIA: We both know that here, you’re only as good as your last troll. Which was…
CLEMENT: Look me in the fucking eye. Fucking look at me when you say it.
DARIA: Your last troll was B-Boy Troll. Zero. Sales.
Harper is sweating. She hasn’t slept in three days and has a massive hangover.
HARPER: Father Time Troll is an excellent choice.
CUSTOMER: Thanks.
HARPER: We recommend him in a set with Mother Earth Troll and Moon Troll.
CUSTOMER: Sounds good.
Harper’s sweat drips audibly onto Father Time Troll’s clock face.
HARPER: And just so you know, the set is in our ten-inch height series.
CUSTOMER: Okay… whatever.
HARPER: Excellent choice, yours at $97.99.
The customer pays and walks out with his three new trolls.
Eric pulls Harper aside.
ERIC: That… made my blood run cold. You are a world-killer. I see you now.
Robert and Harper share late-night drinks.
ROBERT: Maybe I’m just… not cut out for this. Troll-crafting, I mean.
HARPER: Trolls aren’t easy for anyone, Rob.
ROBERT: Mate, I can’t even make troll props. I tried to make a spatula for Chef Troll, and it looked like a hammer for Construction Troll.
Harper laughs.
Upbeat synths play.
They do shots and coke and K and pills. Then they dance.