Once upon a time, there was a giant lake full of "good stuff". The good stuff made people happy and efficient, and it was declared a good thing. The only problem was getting the good stuff to where the people were. Some people suggested that the government should just distribute the good stuff-- reasoning that the government is just "we the people," so there shouldn't be any problem. Other people hated the government because it wasn't a corporation with opulent company headquarters and an on-staff rock-star chef. Because the government haters could buy more propaganda and influence, it was decided that the "evil" we-the-people government could not be trusted to distribute the good stuff and a "system" was established to allow "contractors" and free enterprise entrepreneurs/spammers to create a for-profit system of chaotic and inconsistent distribution. As most people were too preoccupied with the century's biggest news story about some girls who apparently went wild (fortunately all captured on videotape) the people really didn't realize that the good stuff was being managed in a manner doomed to be preposterously wasteful.

During the time of initial construction of the good stuff distribution engines by the good stuff distribution industry, it was noticed by a scant few that there was a crazy, smelly foul-mouthed troll who would periodically sneak up on industry construction workers and spit on them. A few workers for one of the engine companies-- who wore funny hard hats with rat ears on them--did try to smash the troll with a shovel a few times, but they soon realized he was way too hard-headed to be dissuaded that way. Eventually all the workers and subcontractors ganged together and put up a fence to stop the troll from interfering in their work. The fence was effective, but the troll still lingered around the perimeter ranting and raving and making obscene gestures. Most people working within the industry quickly learned to ignore the now pretty irrelevant troll and went about their "business".... But one privateteer contractor (who bounced from company to company, and looked like a 10,000 pound banana slug) named David the Pompous was still easily distracted. Having more direct contact with the troll-- being that giant slugs are easy to sneak up on--he knew that there was more to this troll's story than the casual observer might see.

David the Pompous first encountered the troll when he had a middle management job with a company installing good-stuff ODP filters and pumps that would be part of a larger distribution network. On the day of this first encounter, David the Pompous was preparing a tuna fish sandwich using some beta WWA technology when he heard a ruckus down in the posting pits. He eventually found and confronted Gary the Troll who appeared to be having some sort of slobbering fit. Having acquired some knowledge of trolls while helping his father with his government research project--which was examining the practicality of using cannon-fired trolls to intercept enemy missiles--David knew that sometimes you can confuse, and in turn, momentarily calm a troll by spouting Latin words at it. The technique worked, and David the Pompous soon realized that you could make sense of a troll's ranting, but you needed to be patient, as trolls have a substantial speech impediment (apparently the spitting is involuntary). During this first encounter David gleaned the understanding that the troll believes himself to be some sort of "guardian of the good stuff," and that he is trying to point out engineering mistakes being made by the industry contractors. Unfortunately this first meeting was cut short when other workers started throwing rocks at the Troll, provoking him into a kung fu fit which left many industry workers laid to waste, and David the Pompous with a broken antenna (which might explain why he didn't receive signals of his own soon to come stoning by the ODP pipefitters).

Chapter Two

Over the years, David the Pompous would have many encounters with Gary the Troll. Almost without exception, these encounters would be strained and difficult, as the Troll was, by his very nature, rude and unpleasant to the senses, which did not very well complement David the Pompous's, pompous expectation that all lesser beings obey the rules of engagement guidelines-- detailed in article 43 subsection 19 of the wiki addition of the "Slugs Are Better than You" reference guide.

For a period of time, David was regularly doing lunch with Andrew Notsogoodman, who maintained a craggy little observation point overlooking the construction. Andrew was a man of many hats, faces, and tongues--all of them basically stupid and ugly--and he tended to babble on incessantly. Although David didn't have much use for Andrew, the tuna fish and velveeta sandwiches Andrew provided were irresistible. It became routine for the Troll to interrupt these lunches slobbering phrases like "clock stopper" and "chaos pimp". At first, both David and Andrew were entertained by the funny nonsense, but eventually they began to realize that the Troll was speaking the great heresy of "efficiency in design." For engine construction workers, there was no greater sin than to logically examine the rationality of the ChaosGod-given blueprint and to judge the efficiency of their work. For Andrew, this realization caused him to have trouble digesting his after lunch velveeta twinkie, and he eventually allowed the craggy little observation point to fall into disrepair and collapse.

David and the Troll would cross paths repeatedly at other locations where David could secure a free lunch as part of his compensation as evangelist/consultant. Eventually David felt the need for consistency and to have a lunchroom all his own--so he rented a little outhouse on the perimeter of the construction site and declared it XODP [even though it stank worse than just pee]. Although the Troll really hated the smell of advUspam that permeated David's little homebase/restaurant, the Troll made semi-regular visits, as it was one of the few locations not made inaccessible by the fence.

Chapter Three

At the XOPD David and the Troll would sometimes just relax and chew on some of David's abundant fat, but much more often they would engage in protracted animated and hostile conflict. As the years passed, the Troll had become more and more frustrated and impatient, which only aggravated his speech impediment. In contrast, having found some consistent order in his life, David had become more complacent and only interested in theoretical jibber jabber and kind of averse to any conclusion that might demand practical action or change. Although few construction workers found the spectacle worth watching, the hillside battles between David and the Troll were, in some respects, epic drama. When lost in their role-playing, a casual observer might think they were actually seeing a historic battle between Adam Smith and Karl Marx. During these battles all manner of available rubbish would be flying: including college degrees, past-due library books, and an abundance of straw men holding old, smelly red herrings. While it's true that none of the battles won any wars, the future would remember these days as critical turns in the gears of fate.

While the troll continued to participate in the war of no alternative with David, the realization that paid construction workers are not likely to be persuaded to bite the hand that feeds them, was not beyond the trolls powers of perception. He could see early on that he needed to do something to attract the attention of an audience that might be more sympathetic to his passionate concern. Although trolls can be pretty good engineers, they have a real blind spot when it comes to engineering strategies of persuasion- especially when it comes to persuading alien species. Trolls aren't by nature social animals and even among their own kind there's little contact if crazy wild sex isn't on the agenda. These facts, combined with the fact that he knew change will require the help and cooperation of others, presented the troll with the real dilemma. The troll puzzled over the problem with his puzzler and after much "puzzling" saw a glimmer of light in the theoretical solution of disguising himself as some sort of socially acceptable Santa Claus. He reasoned that if he could make some good stuff of his own and give it away for free that that would attract an audience in whoisville more receptive to his whatis solution to the current and pending catastrophe. Unfortunately this theory was-is itself, as the troll would learn the hard way, catastrophically flawed.

Acting on his plan the troll began building some good stuff. Taking advantage of his natural engineering skills he spent many hours in his workshop and made some fairly innovative games, and invented some pretty good tools. Although this good stuff wasn't as supercool good stuff , as a faked picture of a naked Brittany Speers picking her nose (the naked part being faked), the troll was satisfied with his accomplishment and figured it was good enough good stuff to attract the interest of the desired audience. Having tied his "WhatIs a better way" message to the good stuff the troll merged it into the good stuff reservoir and waited for a crowd of helpers to arrive. The troll waited and waited but no one ever showed up-- it was then that the troll realize that he had been more foolish in his planning than the universally laughed-at underwear gnomes, infamous for their incomplete planning. Like a horrifying vision of a warm puppy the troll was struck by the depressing realization that his plan had not accounted for the very brokenness in the "good stuff distribution system" he had so persistently complained about. Looking over the distribution system, the troll could actually see his good stuff spilling out the numerous gaping holes and crashing onto the ground of pointlessness.