Shadgirl2: Warning! Mayor Delta's going to seem a bit OOC here, but that's just because we're trying to show the troll version of the country lifestyle.

Midna: Since they're trolls, they probably pass time the same way as other groups. Since the others all love a good song and dance (to the right genre), so should the Country Trolls.

Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls. Larry, Robert, Junior, and Wendy belong to Shadgirl2. The songs don't belong to us, either. "Good Time" is by Alan Jackson, "Just Another Day in Paradise" is by Phil Vassar, and "The Secret of Life" is by Faith Hill.

In Lonesome Flats, Branch spent the first few hours of the morning in the hot sun, plowing the fields with Junior. By the time they finished, his arms were tired and a bit sore from steering that plow. Given that they'd started from the back and worked their way forward, the barns were in sight now.

"Wow-ee! That sure was a tough'un," Junior said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. Despite the fact that he'd been the one pulling the plow, Junior didn't seem all that tired, as if this was just his daily aerobics routine. "I don't know 'bout you, boy, but I could sure use something cold to drink!" He started off toward the house, smiling slightly. Looking back at Branch, he asked, "Want anything, partner?"

Rubbing his arms, Branch had been about to go find Robert so he could figure out what he was supposed to be doing next, but he stopped to answer, "Uh, sure. Just a glass of water's fine."

"Alrighty, then! Be right back!" Junior said, and he headed off, leaping over the picket fence surrounding the field as he headed for the small barn to their left.

Wendy approached Branch, her arms crossed and a stoic expression on her face. "Not too shabby, Pop Troll," she said. "Ya managed to keep up with old brother Junior there. And here I'd think ya'd be too cushy to handle it all."

Branch rolled his eyes. The idea that he lived a cushy life... "Please. I spent most of my life living completely differently from the rest of the Pop Trolls. Still don't live like them, really."

After all, Pop Trolls didn't typically live in a bunker and spend a great deal of time preparing for the inevitable breakdown of society. He may have started doing that less, but it didn't mean he wasn't doing it at all.

Wendy smiled, chewing on a piece of hay. "Ya don't say?"

"Yeah. Pretty sure I'm the only one who works hard on anything besides parties."

Right then, Robert saved Branch the trouble of finding him—the farmer drove up in his pickup bug, parked on the dirt road between the fields, and got out. He came over to the other two, saying, "Alright, boy, I see you've finished plowin' the fields. That's good. Next, I'm gonna need ya to bale some hay."

Normally that would just be Junior's job, but the plowing had taken longer than he'd hoped. Robert didn't blame Branch—Junior was the one dragging his feet again, despite the fact that they had a deadline to meet. Since Robert needed that hay ready to go quick and Branch seemed like a hard worker, he figured it would be a good idea to have Branch help his slightly lazy son. Besides, Branch had been singing country songs with the boy, so he was clearly better than his queen...and his voice was fantastic.

Branch raised an eyebrow. Out of all the things he'd done in his life, baling hay was definitely not one of them. "Uh... Yeah, I'm gonna need a lesson on that. We don't have hay in Troll Village."

Or he didn't, at least.

Junior came running back over, two glasses in hand. "Here ya go, partner!" he said with a smile as he handed one glass to Branch. "Drink up! There's still plenty to do before tonight's bonfire!"

The guy looked so eager that Branch wondered if Junior could think of anything else right now. Kind of reminded him of Poppy—she always seemed to have parties on the brain, too.

Branch smiled and took the glass of water, saying, "Thanks, Junior."

"Eh, T'ain't nothin'." He turned toward Robert's bug, where he knew his lunch was stashed, saying, "Anyway, I'm off to shovel some hay so it can be—"

"Hold it, Junior!" Robert called, stopping his son as he was reaching into the bed of the truck for his thermos and lunch box. The older troll gestured at Branch and said, "Take Branch with you, show 'im the ropes."

Junior seemed rather eager to do that—apparently Branch had made a friend today. "Sure thing, Pa!" he said to Robert, leaping away from the truck with his lunch in hand. (He'd need that later, so why leave it with his dad while he baled hay?) Then he turned to Branch and waved him on as he added, "Come on, Branch! Let's see how ya handle some real farm work 'round these here parts!"

"Alright," Branch answered as he followed. He couldn't say he was eager for this, but at least he was stuck with somebody he actually kind of liked.

Wendy, being Branch's parole officer, followed after the two. Robert watched them all go for a moment, his hands on his hips.

"...Fella ain't half bad, for a Pop Troll," he said once he was alone. Then he adjusted his hat and climbed back into his truck. He was getting too old for this, but the critters needed tending, so he'd just drive on over there.

Elsewhere in this town, Poppy sat in a cell with Larry just strumming away on his guitar. He'd been singing one song after another, smiling without a care in the world and tapping a hoof, all of them about how much he didn't want to work. The latest one went something like this:

"Oh, I've been workin' all week and I'm tired and I don't wanna sleep, just wanna have fun! It's time for a—"

So, yes. For obvious reasons, Poppy's patience was gone. This had been going on since Larry actually got up (which, incidentally, had been maybe 20 minutes after Mayor Delta came and took Branch, so he hadn't slept that much longer).

That's why Poppy cut Larry off at this point in his song, screaming in frustration as she clenched her hands into fists and slammed her eyes shut. "ARRHHH! Larry! Could you please stop singing!? My ears are gonna bleed from all this lazy, lay around all day twang! Honestly! Don't you know anything a little more meaningful than that?" she cried, exasperated.

What kind of troll just sang about being lazy and doing nothing all day long? Sure, she loved a good song about having fun, but not if you never did any work. Honestly, this town was seriously messed up. Most of them seemed to do nothing but work, and the only troll who did play never worked at all!

She heard Larry shift on the bunk above her. Next thing she knew, his front legs were hanging off the side as he looked down at her, saying, "Well, shoot, little darlin'. What did you have in mind?" His guitar was propped up against his hindquarters.

"How about a song talking about how friendly you guys are!?" she asked, getting up to look at him better. Her annoyance at the lack of balance these guys had showed clearly on her face. "Or maybe one about being happy even in the darkest of times! I mean, you've got to have something better than a bunch of lazy, lay around and work yourself to death songs, right!?" Shoulders tense, she slammed her eyes shut and clenched her fists above her head, frustratedly pumping them down through the air. "You can't really be all miserable all the time, can you?" She looked at him desperately, pleading with him silently to show her there was something better than all of that. Why did she insist on coming out here in the first place!? She was going to go insane if she had to keep listening to their miserable music!

Larry gave her a mischievous grin. Boy, was this girl in for a surprise. "Well, shoot. Why didn't ya just say so? I know just what ya need!" And he started strumming out another melody on his guitar. "The kids screaming," Larry sang. "Phone ringing. Dog barking at the mailman bringing that stack of bills, overdue." He leaped out of bed, leaning in her face mischievously, as he sang on, "Good morning, baby, how are you?"

Poppy looked at him lamely as she leaned back some. Teasing Branch was one thing, but that just wasn't funny at all. "...Really?"

She asked for a meaningful, happier song, and this was Larry's answer? Another sad song, complete with bad jokes about marriage? Who'd marry that guy?

Poppy didn't know what critters were in the area, but they all picked up on the music and started creating the melody Larry needed as he stopped playing his guitar.

Larry straightened up and walked past her, still grinning. Apparently, this song was actually enough to bring him out of his lazy stupor because he was getting more active. "Got a half hour." He grabbed a washbasin Pete had brought in about an hour ago so they could wash up and dumped it over his head as he sang, "Quick shower." He tossed the washbasin aside (how was a guy that lazy strong enough to do that, anyway?), picked up a glass of water from their breakfast, and took a drink. He looked disgusted at the taste. (Incidentally, Poppy figured he'd been too lazy to eat his breakfast earlier, which was why it was still here in the first place. "Take a drink of milk, but the milk's gone sour," Larry sang on anyway. He gave Poppy a teasing grin, earning yet another lame look from the Pop queen. "My funny face makes you laugh. Twist the top on, and I put it back." He put the cup back on the tray.

Great, spoiled milk, a soaked bum, and a dumb show teasing her as if they were a couple. Yep, just what Poppy asked for. The joke was definitely getting old. "Uh-huh. Larry, somehow that doesn't sound much better, all things—"

"There goes the washing machine," Larry sang on, heedless of Poppy's protest, as he turned away from her and started dancing. "Baby, don't kick it. I promise I'll fix it." He pulled a wrench out of his hair and looked around as if the whole cell were full of broken objects. What the lazy guy was doing with a wrench, Poppy didn't even know. Must have been a prop—he and Guy would get along great, given Larry's love of performing. "Along with 'bout a million other things."

Poppy growled. Hate was a strong word, but she felt nothing but hate for sad country songs, and Larry's dumb theatrics weren't helping. "Aarrhh! Larry! I thought I told you I didn't—"

Larry started rocking back and forth to the music, tapping his hoof some, still ignoring her. "Well, it's okay. It's so nice. It's just another day in paradise. Well, there's no place that I'd rather be."

Poppy blinked, eyes widening. She didn't see that coming. "I'm sorry, what—"

Larry grinned, amused, as he did a quick spin, just sliding in a circle. He knew this would be more her speed.

Just outside, Growly Pete started tapping his foot. "Growly growl growl!" he said, sounding happy (even though Poppy still couldn't make out a single word he said).

"Well, it's two hearts," Larry sang on, still grinning as he made his way around Poppy. His eyes stayed on her the whole time.

This time, Poppy was too stunned by the turn the song had taken to care what Larry was up to. She just watched him carefully, wondering what she was hearing.

"And one dream. I wouldn't trade it for anything." He stopped by the bed behind Poppy and knelt by the bed, folding his hands as if praying. "And I ask the Lord every night." He got up, turning to her as he swayed slightly. "Ooh." He opened his eyes and rocked to the music again as he started playing his guitar again. "For just another day in paradise."

Pete started snapping his fingers, bopping his head to the beat, and tapping a foot. Poppy just watched both him and Larry, amazed.

"N-no way..." she said. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. There's a hint of good vibes in this depressing-sounding country song!? What's that doing in there?

Larry sang on, "Friday," he pretended to look at his watch, placing a hand on his hip and tapping a foot, "you're late." He gave a sad shrug as he headed over to Poppy again. "Guess we'll never make our dinner date. At the restaurant," he sang as Poppy blinked, eyes widening in shock, "you start to cry." Larry leaned over her shoulder, looking reassuring, and placed his hands on hers. Poppy just stared at him as she was still absorbing the meaning of this song. "Baby, we'll just improvise."

Poppy nodded in understanding. When plans don't work, rework the plan. Don't let it stop the fun. "Uh-huh. Good plan..."

Larry let go and headed over to his still uneaten breakfast. Poppy was completely ignoring his behavior at this point—must have just been his weird way of enjoying the song. She did wonder briefly why he hadn't done it before. Was it because he wasn't in a boring jail cell with nothing to do?

"Well, plan B looks like—" Larry sang as, still rocking to the music, he picked up the tray and turned to Poppy with a mischievous grin. (If her boyfriend could see this, Larry knew he'd get an interesting reaction. Too bad he wasn't here—Branch's overreacting was actually kinda funny.) Domino's pizza in the candlelight." He started tiptoeing toward the bunk bed then. "Then we'll tippy-toe—" he leaped up into his bed, "—to our room. He leaned on an elbow, his other hand on his hip, and tried to look seductive.

Oh, hair! Was he trying to look sexy!? Poppy didn't need that image.

"Make a little love that's overdue."

That answered that question.

Poppy blinked. "...'Overdue'?" she wondered.

She really hoped this was an act. Not only did she have a boyfriend, but Larry just wasn't her type!

By this point, Pete wasn't just tapping his foot or snapping his fingers—he was up and full-on dancing. "Growly growly growly!" he growled cheerfully.

Larry, on the other hand, relieved Poppy with his next move. He grabbed his pillow and hugged it, looking nervous. "But somebody had a bad dream," Larry sang. He lay the pillow down beside him and draped an arm over it protectively, as if it were a child. "Mama and Daddy, can me and my teddy come in to sleep in between?"

Poppy smiled, put her hands to her heart, and cooed, "Aw..."

That part was kind of sweet.

Larry leaped from the bed again and danced, this time walking in a circle around Poppy as he did so. "Yeah, it's okay. It's so nice. It's just another day in paradise. Well, there's no place that I'd rather be."

During that line, Poppy closed her eyes, smiling, and started rocking to the melody herself. Larry grinned at her as he sang on. It seemed the Pop queen was starting to understand their way of life.

Outside of the jail, Pete saw a girl that, in his opinion, was "downright purty" (as he would say it if he wasn't growling) and waved her over for a dance, calling, "Growly growl growl!"

Apparently, everyone but Poppy could understand the growling because the girl came over to join him.

"Well, it's two hearts," Larry sang on. "And one dream. I wouldn't trade it for anything." He walked to one of the barred windows, looked up, and again pretended to pray as he sang, "And I ask the Lord every night. Ooh..." He turned a smile on Poppy, who smiled back at him. "For just another day in paradise."

Pete and his dance partner (date?) really cut loose then, even joining Larry in the song. This joyful sight was far from lost on Poppy, who watched through the bars, awestruck. "Whoa..."

Not only did country have a happy side to it, but Growly Pete could actually speak English!? Hadn't he been growling the last time he sang?

Her attention mostly focused on the world outside of her cell now, Poppy lost track of what Larry was doing.

"Well, it's okay. It's so nice." Pet and his dance partner locked elbows and spun that way, both smiling and apparently happy. "It's just another day in paradise." They grabbed each other's hands as they swayed to the music. Their faces were close together, their hands all that stood between them. "Well, there's no place that I'd rather be."

Pete twirled his date then as more trolls came over, eager to join for just a bit—they still had work to do, but a short break wouldn't hurt. A few other trolls, working nearby, started dancing while they worked.

Poppy took this all in, amazed. Oh, wow! Would you check that out? They can work and dance at the same time!

"Two hearts and one dream," the Country Trolls sang on. One was putting horseshoes on other trolls, one carried a laundry basket, one was tenderizing some meat...and all of them were singing and dancing, too. Kids were even running around playing while all of this went down! "I wouldn't trade it for anything. And I ask the Lord every night for just another day in paradise."

Curious, Delta Dawn came out of her office with a stern expression. "Hm? What's all this—" She cut herself off when she saw that everyone was having fun while still working. Instead of getting angry, she smiled proudly. "Well, what do ya know? A workin' dance party." And she headed over to join it.

Delta didn't mind her people having fun as long as the work got done. Trolls would be trolls, working or not. Besides, sometimes dancing and singing made the work go faster while still getting it done right. Country Trolls were great at working while having fun, so why would she complain?

Now even Delta got involved, pulling out her banjo, as the trolls sang, "For just another day in paradise."

Poppy blinked, eyes widening in shock. "No way... Even Mayor Delta's doing it..." That was unexpected, to say the least. Who knew she had it in her!

Even better, Delta took the lead on the outside, singing to all the trolls gathered here as they danced and worked. "Well, it's the kids screaming," she and Larry sang. "The phone ringing. Just another day."

The rest of town backed them up on that last line.

"Well, it's Friday," Larry and Delta sang. "You're late."

Poppy could scarcely believe her eyes. Delta looked very happy as she played her banjo and sang along. Little Clampers poked out of her aunt's hair, singing along with a smile herself and playing her Jew's harp.

"Oh, yeah, it's just another day in paradise," they finished the song as Delta smiled up at her niece.

Of all the things Poppy had expected out of that song, this was the last one. She hadn't expected an impromptu dance party the likes of which Troll Village frequently saw—not with the way Country Trolls behaved. And, yeah, this looked different because they were still working at the same time, but it didn't change the fact that it happened. Country Trolls were having fun right in front of her while milking a towel, hanging the laundry, fixing a broken door... This was unbelievable!

It got more unbelievable as Delta excitedly stomped a foot and slapped a hip, looking almost cheerful for a change. "Oh, yeah! Gotta love them good old fashion workin' dance breaks. Hey, lil' lady?" Delta asked, looking up at Clampers with a smile.

"You said it, Aunt Delta!" Clampers answered, throwing a hand into the air happily.

Poppy stared, stunned, as the Country Trolls geared up for another song and dance number. She missed the start of the song as she thought, Oh, my hair. What's gotten into these guys? I thought the Country Trolls only cared about hard work! And yet here's Mayor Delta, acting way less grumpy than usual, everyone not getting mad or annoyed at something Larry decided to sing, and having fun and working at the same time! Am I just seeing things, or is this how the Country Trolls really live?

"The secret of life is a good cup of coffee," Delta sang, strumming it out on her banjo. "The secret of life is keep your eyes on the ball."

As the Country Trolls continued working and dancing, Poppy watched, her eyes wide in wonder. "I...I never knew the country lifestyle was anything like this. I...I thought—"

She thought it was miserable—all hard work, no play. Sorrow and misery. Kind of like Branch's life used to be before he'd regained his colors, and Delta's earlier behavior had seemed to confirm this. But this was entirely different. Sure, there was a lot of hard work involved, but they were having fun while doing it. They sang songs with sorrow, songs that admitted to life's difficulties, yet those songs could have an entirely different meaning and look toward the positive in these negative situations. They evoked powerful emotion—some negative, sure, but the positive was all the sweeter for that. Their lives—and their music—were better than she'd thought.

"Learn somethin' new every day, huh, Pop Troll?" Larry asked her, leaning over her shoulder with that lazy, teasing grin of his.

Clearly, Larry got his kicks from teasing others, but Poppy wasn't too fussed about that right now. She just turned to him, her eyes still filled with the wonder of this new discovery about the Country Trolls.

Back on the farm, Junior taught Branch how to bale hay and bind it up nice and tight. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, but Branch could handle it. What bothered him as Junior shoveled hay and he gathered it into bales was the number they were apparently aiming for—40 bales of hay, Junior said they needed.

"This is going to be a long day," Branch muttered once the lesson was over.

"Got it, Branch?" Junior asked as he looked over his shoulder at Branch—the Country Troll had already started shoveling.

"Yeah, I got it," Branch answered.

"Good. Then hop to it! Pa wants these bundled and ready by 1 today! He's got to run 'em to town for someone who's having a little trouble feedin' their buffalo these days. Gotta love a bad drought, huh?"

Country Trolls were good at talking while they worked, as Junior was clearly showing—he never looked at Branch as he said that, and he never stopped working.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Branch said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes—and got to work actually crafting bales of hay by hand. These guys could really use some labor-saving machines around here. They might have time to breathe if they had those.

"You and me are just a couple of zeroes," Delta's voice, carried on the wind, sang. "Just a couple of down and outs."

Junior's ears perked up, and he stopped to listen, leaning on his pitchfork with a somewhat dreamy look in his eyes. Branch turned a curious look on Junior before listening as well.

"But movie stars and football heroes, what have they got to be unhappy about?" Delta sang from a distance.

Junior sighed. From the look in his eyes, he had some dirty thoughts on his mind. "Ah, Mayor Delta... She's got such a purty voice. Don't she?"

Branch shrugged. Honestly, he liked Poppy's better, especially since Delta had unjustly arrested him for daring to come to town with a girl who didn't exactly think before she acted. But, since his new friend seemed to have a crush on the mayor, that didn't seem like the best response. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well! Guess that means somebody started another workin' dance party, then!" Junior said, smiling brightly as he grew excited. He kicked around like he'd done back in the fields. "Boy, I love those!" And he started dancing while he shoveled hay, singing, "So they turn to the bartender. 'Sam, what do you think? What's the key that unlocks that door?'"

Branch looked at the dancing, working, singing Country Troll and smirked. This was actually kind of amusing. And Poppy thought these guys didn't know how to have fun!

Well, he didn't start dancing since he was more interested in efficiently finishing his work, but Branch did start singing along as he resumed his own task. The two boys sang, "Sam don't say nothin', just wipes off the bar, and he pours them a couple more."

Junior smiled at Branch again, and they kept up this routine for many songs in a row. Most of these songs were about how bleak life was, but these songs seemed to look for hope in the darkness.