Shadgirl2: Well, now that we've seen Guy get in trouble for trespassing, let's hope he's learned his lesson.

Midna Azusa: Crime don't pay, like Legsly said.

Shadgirl2: Yep! Now let's check in on some of the Pop Trolls.

Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls. Fearsville, Funshine, Razzle, and Angel belong to Shadgirl2.

Edit: Added details, edited several details, revised wording, altered Creek's thoughts.

Biggie and Cooper were taken to an armory, where they were outfitted in plate armor with visors on the helmets. They were both given swords and shields as well. Once they were properly prepared for whatever dragon they were going to be asked to slay, they were taken to find Mother Angel.

Their escort, a Fandango pink troll with red hair, walked them through the hall as he excitedly said, "We're all so glad the two of you came to stay with us! Now we won't have to fear the Party Crashers anymore!" He threw his arms out to the sides, eyes closed, looking positively overwhelmed with excitement.

"Oh, my," Biggie said, feeling more nervous with each passing second. "Uh, yes, about that..."

Their escort quickly moved in front of the large lavender doors before and threw them open, revealing a large room with a throne in the back, where Angel sat. The walls, like all walls down here, were dirt, meaning they were brown. Large blue snowflakes decorated the walls on either side of the throne, each snowflake having a top-down view of a tulip-like flower in the center. The throne itself was white with ice blue upholstery. A lavender snowflake with a pink tulip topped the back of the throne, the design identical to the symbols on the wall, save the snowflake's color, and the armrests had the same snowflake on them. The floor was decorated with a royal purple carpet that led from the door to the throne, and the same snowflake design was present on this carpet, with the snowflakes being white and blue instead. The white snowflakes ran down the center of the carpet while the blue ones were off to the sides.

It was a rather bizarre thing for both Biggie and Cooper, who couldn't figure out why these guys had so many tulips shooting out of the snow like that. The one thing they were sure of was that this was some sort of symbol for this little village. What it meant, however, was anyone's guess.

"Mother! The heroes are finally ready to go!" the boy troll called with a smile.

Angel yawned, putting a hand to her mouth to hide it. She looked rather tired. "...Wonderful... So does this mean they're prepared for the night watch tonight...? Someone has to guard the main entrance, and who better than our two brave heroes...?"

It must have been very late for her to be so tired, Biggie thought. Not that he could tell, having spent the better part of the afternoon underground.

"All set, Mother!" the troll guide answered, beaming. "All that's left is—"

"Now, hold on!" Biggie cut him off, growing rather anxious by this point. He fidgeted, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. "We need to talk about this!"

"Yeah! You guys are all mixed up!" Cooper said, waving his two front legs in front of him like any other troll would his arms. If this lady thought they were here to defend the town, she was barking up the wrong tree.

Angel stretched as she stood up. "Not tonight, little ones... It is far past my bedtime... We can discuss whatever it is in the morning..."

Angel had never been up this late before, but making sure that the god's heroes were taken care of was a must. It wouldn't do to displease their guests' god.

"B-but..." Biggie stammered.

Being more easy-going than Biggie, Cooper shrugged and said, "Okay! What're we doin'?"

Angel blinked, looking at them curiously. She would have thought the great Mr. Dinkles would have told his heroes what was expected of them. She brushed this aside, deciding it was unwise to question a god, and looked at the troll who had brought their heroes in. "...Razzle?" she said. "Could you be a dear and escort our heroes to the main entrance? They should know what to do from there..."

Surely Mr. Dinkles had told them what to do, even if he hadn't told them where to go, she thought.

Razzle nodded eagerly, saying, "Okay, Mother! Good night!" He waved cheerily at her, a bright smile on his face.

Angel smiled sweetly at him and said, "Good night, sweetheart. See you in the morning." With that, she made her way to a secure-looking blue door (with a pink tulip on the door handle) off to the side of the room, undid the lock, and headed in. She closed the door, and they could hear the lock click behind her.

Razzle turned to Biggie and Cooper and said, "Okay! Come on, Biggie and Cooper! Time to go to work!" He excitedly pushed them out the doors.

Cooper went along rather eagerly. Biggie, on the other hand, was still reluctant. They followed Razzle out to the main entrance of the tunnel system—the one they'd been carried through earlier. There was now a metal door closed and barred, blocking the exit.

"Okay! And, while I'm sure you probably already know this since the great Mr. Dinkles said it," Razzle informed them as he rolled his eyes, a sly grin on his face, "tonight is your turn to guard the entrance to Fearsville!" He stopped in front of the barred door, turning quickly to face Biggie and Cooper as he threw his arms up over his head. Then he held his hands in front of him as his expression turned serious and he added, "Now remember, it's going to be up to you to keep out all intruders, predators, and monsters. Don't let anything unfriendly get past here, even if it costs you your lives." His expression and tone were both so dark and serious now that he was reminding them forcibly of Branch. He was acting as if he'd just sent them on a mission from which they surely wouldn't return alive.

This, of course, made Biggie even more nervous. He fidgeted once again. "Right... And how often are you attacked here?"

"Oh, not often," Razzle answered. But then he gave a wicked grin, eyes darkening, and his tone sounded like he was telling a scary story as he continued, "But you can never be too careful with all those growlbeasts, tarantapuffs, dragon bats, greygons, and—"

"Okay, thank you, Br—Razzle!" Biggie caught himself just before he said the wrong name. "I understand!"

"Don't worry, Branch!" Cooper said with a smile. He patted his sword and added, "We'll keep everyone safe!"

Razzle blinked and raised an eyebrow, curious. "Uh...my name's Razzle. Who are you talking to?" he asked, bemused.

"Branch! He always tells us what's dangerous!" Cooper pointed at Razzle and said, "You sound just like him!"

"Right...but Branch isn't here, Cooper," Biggie reminded him. "He's visiting another group of trolls."

Razzle blinked again, arching his eyebrow a bit higher. His eyes then widened in apparent realization. "Ohhh! Right! There are other troll colonies out there in need of help! Mr. Dinkles must have sent out brave warriors to all of them!" He grew excited again, laughing a bit. "I get it now!" He started walking past them back into the tunnel. He raised a hand and waved back, calling, "Good luck to you guys! See you later!" He walked off, leaving the noble knights to face whatever dangers might come in the night.

They had been told to guard a barred metal door overnight. That part they understood. However, there was still one huge problem here—Angel's interpretation of their message. Biggie and Cooper looked at each other with uncertainty.

"Cooper, we can't move in!" Biggie cried, frantic. "What do we do!?" He waved an arm around in a panic, mindful of the worm cradled in his other arm. Even in a blind panic, Biggie could never forget about Mr. Dinkles's safety.

"I dunno. I ain't Branch!" Cooper said, shaking his head.

"If only he was here. He'd have some idea what to do in this situation!"

The two guarded the door all night, unsure of what to do. Well, other than sleep in shifts since neither of them had planned to be up all night.

Meanwhile, in another village not far away, Creek meditated himself into a dream-like trance...and found himself in Branch's bunker. He'd never been down here, so he was rather taken aback by the heavily fortified room, filled with rations, furniture, and weapons. The scribbles on the wall looked like the work of a psychopath and spoke of the inhabitant's constant state of paranoia.

Creek looked around in fright as he clasped his hands in front of him and fiddled nervously with his hands. The bunker was the only place he could be for it to look like this, and he knew it was a place he wasn't welcome. "Oh, goodness me! How in Half Moon did I wind up here!?" He threw his hands up to his face, eyes wide with worry, shock, and confusion.

Wasn't he sitting in a destroyed troll village just a moment ago?

Creek didn't have any more time to think about that, however, as someone came up behind him just then.

"Seriously? How did you even get in here?" said an irritated voice—Branch.

Creek yelped, leaping into the air a bit, and quickly turned to look at Branch with wide eyes. He was in for it now. "Oh, heavens!" He cringed away, holding his hands to his face as he started sweating anxiously.

Invading Branch's territory was dangerous enough if you were his friend, but Branch hated Creek, a fact the guru knew all too well. No, he knew he wouldn't be getting out of this unscathed, especially since he couldn't really answer Branch's question—that was as much a mystery to Creek as it was to his unwilling host.

"Get out, Creek," Branch said, taking a couple of steps forward and glaring at him threateningly.

Creek backed away, completely lost. He held his hands up in a calming gesture toward the gray troll and stammered, "N-now, h-hold on, mate! I-I didn't—What's going on here? Why are you so..." That's when he calmed down enough to realize something was off: Branch wasn't gray anymore, so why was this guy in front of him gray? He stared at the troll uncertainly.

That was definitely Branch. He was gray, his leaf vest and patched-up shorts dulled by his unhappiness. He had that same scowl on his face that he'd always had back in those days, the one that said you'd get clobbered for messing with him. But that wasn't right. Branch had regained his colors, his happiness. Unless something drastic had happened, the only way Creek could be standing before a gray Branch would have been if he'd traveled back in time or fallen through a wormhole to a different world.

"If you're going to ask why I'm so irritated, take a wild guess," Branch said, crossing his arms. "As to what's going on, that's my line! What are you doing in my bunker? How did you get into my bunker? And is Poppy involved in this somehow?"

Creek waved his hands in front of him frantically, panic-struck. "No, no! Nothing like that, friend! I just thought—"

"We're not 'friends,'" Branch cut him off, moving threateningly toward him. "Now you'd better start talking right now, or you won't like what happens." He pulled a mallet out of his hair as he spoke.

Creek leaped into the air again, crying out.

"Well!?" Branch demanded.

"H-h-how should I know!?" Creek asked, flinching timidly. He covered his head with both arms in an attempt to shield himself from a potentially lethal blow. "I d-didn't e-even think y-you were gray anym-more! O-or is th-this all some s-sort of eye-o-opening dream I-I'm—"

That's when it hit him. No, not the mallet—realization. He'd been meditating, searching for a solution to a gray troll problem. Who better to answer his questions about gray trolls than a deadly force of gray anger who already knew about gray trolls? His arms fell to his sides, eyes widening. He'd said he'd either need help from a wise god or Branch himself. Apparently, Branch felt like answering him in a vision. Just his luck—Branch absolutely despised him. How was Creek going to convince him to help? He doubted the grump's inner self was any more pleasant than his outer one.

Now understanding what had happened, Creek held his hands up in a calming gesture and said, "Alright, alright, alright! You want to know the truth!? Truth is that I've just come across a bunch of gray trolls just like yourself and needed some advice on how to cheer them up, alright? So if you'd be so kind as to—"

"'Cheer them up'? Creek, in case you hadn't noticed, I don't do happy!" Branch cut him off, looking positively livid. "Why would you think I could—or would—help you?"

The frustration Creek felt was enormous. Why did Branch have to be like that? There. You see? It's just as I'd been expecting. Branch would never take the time to help me out even if I were wearing a meat costume and had gotten myself cornered by a pack of hungry growlbeasts! Now what'll I do!?

Creek threw his arms out to the sides, glaring at Branch in annoyance. Branch's inner self was just as mean as his outer self. "Well, do you do total despair, 'there's no good in the world and everything's always ugly' all the time!? Seriously, mate, the way these trolls act, it's as if they've lost the will to even live!" Creek answered, his tone full of frustration and exasperation. How was this supposed to help if he couldn't even get the grumpy gray troll to let him speak? And why was Branch's inner being gray when he wasn't? How messed up was this guy?

Branch raised an eyebrow, finally calming down. "Where did you find a group of trolls like that?" he asked, and his tone belayed his concern—concern Creek hadn't actually expected from a gray Branch, although it was a welcome change.

Creek sighed and explained the situation to Branch's inner self—how they were out delivering party supplies to groups of trolls devastated by a group known as the Party Crashers, and how the village he'd found had been hit so hard that everyone was now gray. While he was talking, Branch put the mallet away and crossed his arms, listening.

"And if you ask me, someone with a name like 'Funshine' shouldn't be hating the world so much, but I don't have a clue how to fix it!" Creek finished, shaking his head.

"How long have they been gray? Time should help with some of that, at least," Branch said.

Creek shook his head sadly as he said, "I highly doubt that one, mate. They act as if they never even knew danger existed and that finding out it did was just too much. At least, that's the way Funshine spoke."

"Why bother, Creek?" said a new, depressed voice. "The world isn't all cupcakes and rainbows...and Branch was right all along..."

That's when the vision got weird. Poppy, as gray and colorless as can be, walked up to the two of them, looking as bad as Funshine, slumped over, arms dangling at her sides, her gaze on the floor. But wasn't this Branch's inner mind? What was Poppy doing here?

"Hey... Ready to get eaten by the bergens 'cause I screwed up...?" she asked, barely glancing at them in that manner Creek was quickly coming to associate with gray trolls.

Creek just stared, unable to believe his eyes. "Uh..."

Suddenly the world shifted around them. They were no longer standing in the bunker but now found themselves surrounded by every troll in Troll Village in a dark pot. Not a single troll in here had any color to them—well, other than Creek and that faint tint of color in Branch.

Creek looked around, startled, as he shifted into a somewhat defensive stance. "What in Shiva's name is—"

Poppy fell to the ground, looking as dead as Funshine, and all was quiet.

Horrified, Creek looked around, wondering what to do. "S-say, Branch?" He turned a worried look on the gray troll, straightening up. "D-do you have any idea what's-"

Branch's attention was entirely focused on Poppy, sitting on the floor in the middle of this pot. He looked at her with horror. It was like Creek hadn't even spoken.

"...going...on... Uh, Branch? Mate? W-what are you..." He took a few tentative steps toward the gray troll, hands clasped nervously.

Branch looked down, seemingly coming to a decision, a look of resignation crossing his face. And then he started singing, "You with the sad eyes."

Creek gave a start, eyes wide. What!? W-what's he—

Branch started toward Poppy as he continued, with several villagers looking at him now. "Don't be discouraged." He walked over, leaning over as he tried to look her in the eye, a faint smile on his face as he tried to cheer Poppy up. He sat down beside her, legs folded under himself.

Creek just watched, stunned, amazed. Seeing the normally grumpy gray troll being so gentle and caring with the princess was just unbelievable. "Th-this is..."

He watched on as Branch did all he could to gently and lovingly help Poppy regain her colors and cheer up. The grouchy gray troll who didn't sing, dance, or hug was not only singing. He offered Poppy a hug when her watch dinged. He started dancing when she got up and walked away. And he was smiling, something Branch never did when he was gray. Then, hearing his confession, seeing the look in Poppy's eyes, and—most importantly—hearing the soothing words spoken to her, it all started to make sense. He knew why Poppy was dating Branch.

So that's it. He won her over because he could understand and help her. And he's being so gentle to her, even. Making sacrifices, becoming vulnerable. Oh, I did not stand a chance against that at all. So why did I even— He cut off his own train of thought as he watched the two dance around, their happiness spreading to everyone else.

At least that explained Poppy's sudden appearance. This was a memory they shared, so some essence of her remained here. Either that, or Poppy had invaded Branch's inner being as surely as she invaded his real life. Either way, this gave him a greater understanding of the connection between the two. If their souls were so entwined that they were both in this vision of his, he wouldn't win. Destiny had already decided who would have Poppy.

Then he saw what the vision was trying to show him—the answer to his dilemma.

"They...were able to find beauty in the darkest of darkness...joy during times of despair...and it...it spread like wildfire, affecting—That's it! I know how I can help Funshine!"

"Oh, really? You do, Creek?" Poppy asked, sounding rather smug. Her voice was echoing now.

Creek looked up to see the couple, still glowing and holding each other's hands. They were smiling warmly at him, standing beside each other. Creek looked around and found that he was now standing on a cloud of purplish-gray and pink smoke.

"You see, Creek, the key to true happiness is to learn to be happy, no matter what life throws at you!" Poppy said excitedly, looking exactly like the real thing.

"That's right," Branch said, now blue and indigo, like in real life. Like Poppy, his voice was echoing now, too. "Happiness is inside of all of us. Sometimes you just need someone to help you find it."

"And someone who can see beauty in the darkest night." Poppy looked at Branch with a smile and added, "Branch learned to be happy in a bergen's cooking pot!" She leaned her head on Branch's shoulder, a loving look on her face, but she looked at Creek as she finished, "If he can do that, anyone can be happy, no matter what's going on."

"That answer your questions, Creek?" Branch asked with a smile, wrapping his arm around Poppy and stroking her hair lovingly.

Creek smiled back and answered, "It does. Thank you, mate. Perhaps you're not so bad, after all."

And here he'd thought Branch would only reach out to laugh at him. But, if this was Branch's true inner self, maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all. His inner being could put aside grudges and help someone he hated, so Creek assumed that Branch could do so in real life, too. Now, if he could just figure out why Poppy seemed to have moved into Branch's inner being, the world could start making sense again.

The two vision figures smiled at each other affectionately one last time before they both vanished into thin air. Then Creek vanished from their world as well.

Creek opened his eyes in shock. He let out a surprised gasp as he took in what had just happened. "Urgh... Alrighty, then!" He could feel a mild headache coming on, and he put a hand to his head. "That was an adventure and a half. And the scariest part is that I didn't even go anywhere." He looked around, concerned that nobody had been worried when he sat there still as a board for hours. He got to his feet and looked around. It had obviously been hours—the stars were out. Creek sweat, lacing his fingers together nervously. When had it gotten so late? "Right. And that was clearly a very long session I just had. Better find a suitable spot to sleep for the night. I can get to work on making things right around here in the morning."

For the time being, however, he went to find a place to camp. He knew better than to expect anyone around here would be hospitable enough to invite him in for the night, and tomorrow was going to be a long day. He'd need to get some rest before trying to cure an entire village of crippling depression.

A/N: In case anyone's wondering why we stuck Creek with a bunch of gray trolls, it's just because we thought it'd be fun to see Mr. "Some folks just don't want to be happy" hang around all of the toxic negativity of a bunch of gray trolls. Also, we decided to have Creek consider this a vision from Branch instead of a dream for the sake of a joke I wanted to make later on. Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Leave a review, let us know what you think!