"So my sword has not broken you, Trollhunter," Gunmar said, as two of his warriors dragged Jim along the corridor. "But this will break your spirit." They threw Jim into a stony elevator, which, with a jerk started to move upwards.

"What, more monsters? More soldiers More—wait, is that elevator music?"

"It assists in helping my soldiers prepare for a new battlefield," the ruler of the Gumm Gumms said.

Moments later, the doors opened onto a vast floor where there were…

Cubicles.

Lots and lots of cubicles. With Trolls sitting at desks, their weapons at their side, using headsets and computers.

"…Have you tried turning it off?"

"No sir, I am certain that you have won our official lottery! You must have forgotten to register. Now, If I can only have your account and routing numbers…"

"Hello, I have an important message, the IRS has issued an arrest warrant for you, and unless you pay your outstanding…"

And most horrifyingly of all, the one warrior, in full armor, eyes glowing green… and from whose helmet emerged a sultry voice. "Oh, you're just making me so hot…"

"This—this is a call center?"

"Not only a call center, Trollhunter, we also outsource engineering and IT services. Even India and China fell before my legions of warriors, leaving us utterly dominant in the provision of on time and on budget customer relations, IT and consulting services!"

Behind his helmet, Jim's eye twitched.

"And now, Trollhunter, you will join us!" His soldiers lifted Jim off of his feet and walked him to an empty cubicle, sitting him down in the comfortable (but not too comfortable) chair. Then one turned, retrieved a tie and secured it around Jim's neck, gesturing at the dress code warning on the wall, right above: REMEMBER, CUSTOMER SATISFACTION IS OUR NUMBER ONE PRIORITY!

"Bu—but I can't even work, I'm not old enough!" Jim said. As if that's going to stop the genocidal warlord.

"Do not worry Trollhunter," Gunmar said. "I would never think to break your surface law, at least not until I have conquered it. You are an intern. An unpaid intern. You work for experience!"

Jim whimpered.

"Oh very good, I can see the despair rising." Dictatious said. "This is always the most pleasant part of installing a new sl-err, employee."

"Well, let us not keep you from your work." Gunmar spun on his heel as a guard finished locking Jim to the work station. "Oh, you get a break every four hours. We have coffee in the lounge for your delicate constitution." With that, Gunmar left.

"Coffee? That's remarka—" Gunmar cut Dictatious off.

"You will enter the lounge immediately before his break, use all the coffee, and not replace the coffee machine's filter!"

"Oh, Diabolical, Dark Underlord." Dictatious paused. "But will that work?"

"It will. You did not note what department I put him in?"

"I confess, I did not."

"The complaints section. For the phone sex lines."

Behind them a shriek arose. "What—I don't even know what that means—how is that even physically possible!"

"He'll be begging for the touch of the Decimar blade before the end of the week—it will at least make him forget his time here."

The two evil masterminds laughed as they took the elevator, back down to a world of brutal death, of dark cells, of evil.

Or rather, a much better place than where Jim was currently sitting.