I still be da broken Troll wit' no pants, mon, but I be gettin' by. Some of me mates sent me a pile o' leat'er to make me some britches and I got to sewin'. Dat make me t'ink aboot dis Borean Leat'er dats comin' from da mammoths an worms up in Nort'rend... Hows come I can be sewin' t'ese t'ings without no t'read? What kinda juju lets t'ese slabs o' skin stick toget'er, ya know? An' t'ey t'ink I be smokin' too much o' da Ganja...
Even wit' no pants, a brudda can still get aroun'. Macfeegle, one o' me brudda trolls, showed me da way to da Caverns o' Time to see da way t'ings used ta be, mon. We walked down t'rough da Old Kingdom and Hillsbarad, and even stumbled on ol' T'rall when he was a t'umpin' Orc man instead o' da big boss. He done got hisself locked up, so we busted him outa t'is place t'en when out to t'is bar wit' da SERIOUS brews a goin'... WOOO, I not been trashed like t'at in for never! T'at T'rall sure know how to t'row 'em back, mon! I woke up out in da cave da next mornin', and I couldn't find me pants! T'en I realized, I din't wear none when I went down t'ere in da firs' place...
