The True King of Techno {Trolls World Tour}

Spinoff Ch.5

With Barb: 

Unlike the normal, bright sunny days that Lonesome Flats has, this day was more dusty and dreary. 

The dust was blowing gently, indicating the start of a dust storm that was about to hit the small town of Lonesome Flats. There were some Tumbleweeds tumbling along, being blown by the wind. Five Country Trolls were getting the Buffalos into the barn, herding them up so they wouldn’t be outside for when the dust storm does hit. 

Barb landed her Motorbug just outside the Sheriff’s office, dismounting and walking over to the front doors. 

Inside, Delta was sitting at her desk, writing a letter to the said Queen of Rock. 

With her were Growley Pete and Dutch. 

Growley Pete was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed while Dutch was pacing back and forth. 

Barb kicked open the saloon-like doors, her hands on her hips as she walked in, startling the three Country Trolls. 

“Holy mother of Glitter Rattlers!” exclaimed Dutch, about to pull out his weapon.

“Barb!? What you doin' hair?” asked Delta, getting up from her desk and walking over to the Queen of Rock. 

Barb scowled, feeling more impatient than she had before. She was still worried about Riff, but travelling all over Troll Kingdom trying to find him was starting to annoy her. 

"I'm looking for Riff, where is he?" demanded Barb, glaring.

Delta glanced back over at Growley Pete and Dutch, the two shrugging. 

She returned her attention back to Barb, the Queen of Rock crossing her arms and narrowing her glare. 

“Well...ya're in luck, because ah was jus' fixinn-ta wrahtes a leder tellin' ya t' come hair. 'e's in thuh Guh-rand Trolliticus Saloon. 'e's bee-yn hair all day, an refuses ta leave” explained Delta, her hands on her hips. 

Barb nodded in understanding. 

“Thanks Delta, I’ll be sure to bring him back to Volcano Rock City” said Barb, turning and leaving the Sheriff’s office. 

Delta exchange glances with the two other Country Trolls, confused. 

Dutch shrugged. 

“Least you don’t have to send her a letter” said Dutch, chuckling. 

“Growley growley growley” muttered Growley Pete, his arms crossed as he gestured his head over at the window. 

Delta sighed and nodded in agreement. 

“That's true. We should prolly git thuh burg prepared for thuh dust storm. Let's hope those theyer two git out awf hair befo-wr it comes” said Delta, muttering the last part. 

While the three were busy preparing their town for the upcoming dust storm, Barb was on her way to the saloon. 

She kicked the saloon doors open, causing several of the patrons to jump in fright, turning to see who had kicked open the doors. There was a group of six sitting around one of the larger round tables, playing a game of poker.

She walked over to the bartender, her arms crossed. 

“Riff, where is he?” asked Barb, getting straight to the point. 

The bartender, scowling slightly as everyone went back to drinking and playing poker, nodded his over at one of the tables in the corner. 

Barb looked over at where the bartender gestured at, seeing Riff sitting at the table in the corner of the room, leaning his chair back with his feet on the table. He was playing the guitar that he had been holding in the photo, having taken it with him.