New muse from an old comic, looking at a game? (Canon is Digger)

[trollingoftheshrew]

Oi.

Listen, I ain't one t'edge in on anyone else's ideas or plans or nothin', but..

Look, bein' a professional troll means I got a job to do, and come 'ell or 'igh water, I ain't gonna use up sick days on bein' in some freaky 'ell-city! Ain't you got any other of your fancy-pants "muses" 'at y'can do the job with?

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[moarbracing]

Surka!

[All the happy wombat]

It's good to see at least one more familiar face around here.

[trollingoftheshrew]

Oi, Digger! 'is guy says yer the reason I'm even 'ere in the first place, but I know betta'. Y'wouldn't mess with 'ese "mundane" peeps any more 'an y'd mess with Ganesh.

'ow's life been 'oldin' ya?

[moarbracing]

Er, right....about that...

...Well, this one-[waves a claw towards her own mundane, hi fourth wall and all]-already has me in that city yours is thinking of. For...a while now.

It's...been rather interesting.

[trollingoftheshrew]

...It betta' be interestin'. Ain't much use goin' along with it if it ain't.

[Wait. Let that sink in a minute.] Uh. 'is 'appened after ya got back t'yer 'ome, right? Don't tell me I let 'at merchant sleaze through for free an' someone else tangled y'up in a ratsnest affair.

[moarbracing]

'Interesting' is an understatement.
[Oh, this part BURNS-]

We were two days from Smoking Rock when she put me in there. She gets a sense of perverse glee or something.

[trollingoftheshrew]

You're yankin' my chain.

[moarbracing]

No, but she's yanking mine.

[trollingoftheshrew]

...Well, look on th'bright side, 'en. You mentioned 'ow it's already way too late f'r yer folks to've not sold all y'r booty, right?

Y'can at least avoid 'at 'eartrendin' sense of loss?

[moarbracing]

[So much lineface]

Yes, that's true. But there's also the fact that I'm stuck somewhere, once again without the ability to write to my mother.

[Also, a completely different world that she can't even BEGIN to leave, but details...]

[trollingoftheshrew]

Th'way you said it, she's probably already written y'off as cavebear chow.

'er loss.

[moarbracing]

Most likely, but she's still my MOTHER.

[trollingoftheshrew]

Most likely.

[Wait, what?]

[moarbracing]

That'd be something weird to find out when I actually get home.

[trollingoftheshrew]

As if it'd be any weirder 'an findin' out yer daughter's gone an' killed a god.

[Then again, considering what she's heard about wombats, mostly from Digger herself...] All without fillin' out th'proper paperwooooork~! Ooooooooo~!

[She even does that 'this is supposed to be spoooooky' paw-wiggle.]

[moarbracing]

No, I'm pretty sure there's not paperwork for that.
It's expected that no self-respecting wombat with any common sense would get wrapped up in this.

[Now imagine what that says about her]

[trollingoftheshrew]

...You sure y're really a wombat, an' not a cavebear?

[nothitchhiking]

...a troll. You don't even have the candy corn or the stupid text to be those new trolls.

[trollingoftheshrew]

No, I got a bridge. An' you're one damn ugly billy goat.

[nothitchhiking]

A CHIHUAHUA! WHY IS THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!

[trollingoftheshrew]

Bless you.

[nothitchhiking]

NO!

Say it with me: ASTHMA HOUND CHIHUAHUA!

[trollingoftheshrew]

...You've got asthma? Well, 'at explains th'nasty sneeze.

Don't really look like a 'ound, though.

[nothitchhiking]

Shut up, I am. I even have the paperwork, you nontroll fool.

[trollingoftheshrew]

You think I don't got paperwork? I had t'get qualified for this job! I certainly got a lot more paperwork 'an I 'ad in order t'be a dishwasher.

[nothitchhiking]

...you had to fill an application. To...do whatever it is you do to a bridge. Make out with it or something.

[trollingoftheshrew]

Guard it, Gruff. Your brain made out of cottonwood? Trolls guard bridges.

[nothitchhiking]

The only bridge you could guard would be a nose bridge.

[trollingoftheshrew]

Just because th' grunt trolls are th'ones doin' all the intimidatin' doesn't mean I ain't guardin'!

[And I hope you liked that tail unbitten, Ren, because those days are gone. She has latched on and is biting your tail.]

[nothitchhiking]

[YEOW--paaain. The chihuahua screeches and shakes the damn shrew.]

LET GO OF ME, YOU FURRY DRINK UMBRELLA!