The troll woman was the meanest, most fixer-upper person you could imagine. And her husband was just as bad. The only good thing was that they lived in the woods all by themselves and couldn't bother anybody else.
One day they were off somewhere getting fire crystals, and the troll woman got so mad at her husband that she grabbed one of the crystals and burnt his head off, just like that. Then she buried him nice and neat and went home.
She made herself a cup of lutefisk tea and went out on the porch. She sat there rocking in her rocking chair, sipping her lutefisk, thinking how glad she was that she had done this awful thing. After a while she heard this old, empty voice out in the distance moaning and groaning, and it was saying:
"Whoooooooooo's going to fix this fixer-upper up with a little bit of love? Whoooooooooo?"
"It's Pabbie!" she thought. And she hollered back, "Fix up yourself, you old love expert."
Soon she heard the voice again, only now it was closer, and it was saying:
"Whoooooooooo's going to fix this fixer-upper up with a little bit of love? Whoooooooooo?"
"Only a crazy ice harvester!" she shouted. "Make your own little bit of love, you dirty fae!"
Then she heard the voice even closer, and it was saying:
"Whoooooooooo's going to fix this fixer-upper up with a little bit of love? Whoooooooooo?"
"Nobody!" she sneered. "Go play by yourself, you miserable piece of dried lutefisk! And by the way, I don't see no ring!"
She stood up to go into the house, but now the voice was right behind her, and it was whispering:
"Whoooooooooo's going to fix this fixer-upper up with a little bit of love? Whoooooooooo?"
Before she could answer back, a big grey hairy hand came around the corner and grabbed her, and the voice hollered:
"YOU ARE!"
(As you say the last line, hug one of your friends.)