Butterscotch
There once lived a boy who was very greedy, and always stuffing himself with cream, butter, and all kinds of candy. Because of this he was quite chubby, so everyone called him Butterscotch. Now, as I'm sure you all know, the health risks of childhood obesity are very serious: above all, it makes you a delicacy to trolls.
So one day Butterscotch is in the kitchen with his mother, when they hear the dog barking. They look out the window, and see a horrible, gangly troll hag carrying her head under one arm and a sack over her shoulder. His mother says to Butterscotch, “You better hide under the kitchen table so that troll doesn't catch sight of you!” And so he scoots under there.
A moment later, the troll comes through the door. “Howdy!” she says to the mother. “Nice weather we're having. Is Butterscotch around?” And the mother replies, “Good day, ma'am. Uh, no, I haven't seen him all day.”
“Well that's a bummer,” says the troll, “seeing as I have this pretty little silver knife I wanted to give him for a present.”
“Pip pip! I'm here! I'm here!” yells Butterscotch and jumps out from under the table. (Like I said, he was a greedy little boy.)
“What a lucky coincidence!” says the troll. “It's at the bottom of my bag. Do you mind climbing in to get it for me? My arthritis is bothering me, you see.”
So Butterscotch climbs in, but the moment he's in the sack, the troll heaves it over her shoulder and legs it out of there to bring him back to her home. She walks all day, and when she gets tired she asks into the bag: “Do you know of a hotel around here? Ideally one with a room safe.”
“Oh, we passed one a while back,” says Butterscotch. “If you'll just turn around…”
But the troll doesn't want to walk extra, so instead she looks for a spot along the side of the road where she can lie down. While she's sleeping, Butterscotch takes the silver knife, cuts a hole in the bag, finds a tree stump and puts it inside. Then he runs back home to his mother.
The next day the troll arrives at her place and is all ready to cook Butterscotch, but when she opens the bag she only finds the tree stump. Damn that bothersome Butterscotch!
So one day later, Butterscotch and his mom are in the kitchen again, the dog barks, troll, hide under the kitchen table etc.
“Have you seen Butterscotch today?” asks the troll.
“Shoot, you just missed him!” says his mother.
“Shame. You see, I had this nice matching silver fork I wanted to give him.”
Well, Butterscotch jumps out once more (he really was a very greedy little boy), gets in the bag (newly patched), and off they go again. When the troll gets tired, she asks into the bag: “Really, there aren't any hotels around here? What about a motel or a little Bed & Breakfast or something?”
“No, I'm afraid it's all AirBnb these days,” replies Butterscotch, anachronistically. So the troll lies down by the side of the road to sleep, and Butterscotch takes the fork and pokes a hole in the bag, gets out and puts a big rock inside instead. Then he runs back home to his mother. When the troll gets home the next day, she only finds the big rock. “That does it!” she says to her husband. “I'll get that little fatso one way or another!”
So, third try:
“Know where I can find Butterscotch?”
“Butterscotch? Butterscotch… No, doesn't ring a bell.”
“Really? Well, if you run into him, tell him I have a very chic little silver spoon to complete the cutlery set.”
“Gimme gimme gimme!” yells Butterscotch, emerging from hiding. (Really, it's sickening.) And in the bag he goes.
This time when night falls, the troll just keeps on walking. Butterscotch (who should have thought this whole thing through better) tries to make his way out of the bag with the spoon, but that goes about as well as you would expect.
They walk all night, and by the time they reach the troll's house, it's Sunday morning. The troll says to her daughter, “Take Butterscotch here, slaughter him, carve him up and make us some Butterscotch soup while your father and I are in church; we'll invite all the neighbors over for Sunday dinner!”
When the parents had left for church, the daughter set about trying to butcher Butterscotch, but she didn't know how to slice him. “Here, let me show you how you do it,” said Butterscotch. “Just put your head down on the countertop like this…” And as she laid her head down, Butterscotch took a meat cleaver and chopped it clean off, as if she'd been a chicken. Then he scooped out her innards and popped them in the pot, which he cooked up into a delicious-smelling soup. He arranged the head and the rest of the daughter's carcass in a nice little window seat the trolls had put in along one wall of the kitchen, with a blanket to cover her. Finally, he found the rock and the tree stump the troll hag had carried home in his place, and carried them up onto the roof, where he hid himself away.
When the parent trolls got home, they found their daughter seemingly asleep on the couch, and the soup all ready. They decided to do a little taste test before the guests arrived, and took a big spoonful of the soup:
“Good, by my troth: Butterscotch broth!” said the troll hag.
“Good, by my troth: Daughter-guts broth!” said Butterscotch down the chimney, but the trolls didn't notice. Then the husband also wanted a taste:
“Yup: Good, by my troth, Butterscotch broth!” said the troll husband.
“Nope: Good, by my troth, Daughter-guts broth!” said Butterscotch once again, and this time the trolls heard him.
So they ran out to see where the voice was coming from, but as they came out the door (the hag holding her head up to see better), Butterscotch threw the rock and the tree stump down on their heads and bashed them to pieces. Then he looted their house, taking all their gold and silver, and went back home to his mother a rich boy.
THE END
[hide]("Smørbukk" literally means "Butter-buck", and is usually translated as "Buttercup" or "Butterball" in English, but it's also the brand name of a butterscotch candy, so I used that name instead. Also, in the original story the daughter's whole body goes in the soup, but I forgot about that in the initial description when I mentioned one of the victims being found wearing an apron, so I've finessed it in this retelling so that he only uses her guts.)
