I was wrong. So, very wrong.

I started out with a bent back, but I eventually had to squat my way down the tunnel like a game character who was always crouch-walking. It is so much more difficult in real life. Toward the end, my calves screamed at me to toss my dignity aside and crawl.

The layer of filth lining the bottom of the tunnel prevented me from getting on my hands and knees. I'd call it manure, but that wouldn't accurately accentuate the level of foul I was sifting through.

Imagine you're a cop, and you're called to a crime scene where a victim was dumped in a dumpster behind an authentic Mexican restaurant. He'd eaten the spiciest burrito imaginable the night before and was heinously gutted on his way home. Not to mention it was a hot summer day, and patrol didn't find the victim until late in the afternoon.

The assault on my senses was pungent enough to make my eyelids curl inward.

Anyway... I reached the end of the tunnel and grabbed onto a snot-covered ladder.

Sparing the details, I emerged in what I could only assume was the Troll pen. I pushed the metal hatch open until it fell back on some brittle bones, shattering the calcium completely. I nearly fell down the ladder when I saw the top half of a skull staring blankly at me like he was auditioning for an amateur horror film.

A centipede crawled out of its eye socket, and then I did fall back down.

"Fuck me."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Landing with a squish at the bottom of the shaft, I had a minor panic attack and another memory to file under 'don't-ever-open-this-fuckin-ever.'

Climbing back out, I stood in the troll's chamber. The enormous metal door was ajar, allowing me to see the contents of the pen in all its disgusting glory.

Taking deep breaths I went to a corner of the room and prepared myself for another fucked up memory.

There was a massive troll shit the size of a fridge. Steamy, gooey, Jurassic Park dino doo-doo.

And I stuck my hand inside.

"Huaak."

My hand emerged holding a small brown glob in the shape of a very familiar emoji.

[T'Poo: Dude. What the fuck.]

Holding it at a distance, I found myself agreeing with... well... myself.

It was missing googly eyes.

The original recipient of this majestic T'Poo was McTavish. Using a skill, he found it, and even retrieved it; however, he never used it. Admittedly I was very drunk when I wrote the scene and thought anything involving poo was absolutely hilarious. I was having giggle fits and hiccuping like mad.

The memory made me shiver.

Anyway. This was another situation where the item was good for a quick laugh but ultimately useless for the story. McTavish was going to toss it away anyway, so I might as well use it to my advantage.

Getting past the joke description, there was more to it.

[T'Poo: Much like Troll blood, this is a powerful reagent with many uses. At its base, T'Poo contains powerful necrotic properties that will all but destroy reproductive abilities should it enter the bloodstream. It is also an effective fertilizer that helps promote the growth of Yin-aligned plants. As if by magic, T'Poo can never be fully destroyed, deleted, or disposed of. The world could end, and T'poo would remain.]

Pinching the tip of T'Poo off, I watched the tip regrow with an audible pop. The sound reminded me of Candy Crush.

After confirming the use, I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and placed it in my containment ring.

Hypersensitive to every disgusting thing clinging to my skin, I stiffly waddled away to find a Rental Restroom.