A troll? A troll! Oliver had been cast as the horrible dangerous forest troll! Not a hero – not even a good guy. The troll, who tried to bite Mortimer’s head off! He’d be booed, not clapped by the audience.
He flicked through the play script and found his scene. Oh, great. All the troll seemed to do was snore and scratch itself, grunt and roar. That was it.

Oliver’s cheeks flamed even hotter. Now he wished he hadn’t been given a part at all!