Whatsername has spent most of the day shopping. Not for presents she had those picked out weeks ago, but for the perfect dress. She could not come out and participate in the celebration without a new dress could she? Maybe she thought she could but any excuse for a new dress would do.

Whatsername curled her hair and put on her new dress and shoes, no new dress would be complete without new shoes too. She called to her driver and asked that he take her to the middle of The Farm. It had been awhile since she visited the old homestead and tonight was the perfect time to return.

Cantillon’s friends and family had all converged and the celebrations were just getting under way. Whatsername stood on the make shift stage and kicked things off.

“What would a celebration for Cantillon be without a roast? I do not mean a pot roast, although cooking up some of The Farm’s famous potatoes would have been stellar. I also do not mean a pig roast, seeing a poor helpless little pink animal on a rotisserie over a fire with a red apple stuck in its mouth just did not seem fitting. Okay I’m getting hungry now, I must continue on.”

What I meant to come out here and say is Cantillon has achieved a great milestone today. The best way I could think of to honour him is to do what I do on a daily basis and relentlessly abuse him. The Bronx, along with some friends around this thing of ours have pitched in to reward the best roasts of my Godfather."

Cantillon, some people know of the four food groups. All you know is the four liquid groups: beer, wine, spirits and that crap you throw up the morning after. Speaking of drinking, I bought you a present. Whatsername pulls a bottle opener and a pair of safety glasses out of her purse. You are the only person I know who can almost blind themselves not by drinking too much but during the course of opening your beverage. These should help you keep what little eye sight you have left.

Here is something many of you might not know; Cantillon is the world’s greatest lover. Unfortunately he has been unable to find himself a pumpkin pounder so the watermelon in the fridge will have to attest to it. Hey boss! Remember to not over warm it; we don’t need a trip to emergency tonight.

We know you always wanted to be THE goat of the three goats. Well now you are THE old goat. Considering you have now aged way past your prime, making love to anything other than that watermelon might give all goats a bad name for all time.

In all seriousness Godfather, you have stood the test of time and made it to a place only a few ever see. Fortunately for you, The Bronx and your many friends, the four leafed clover in your wallet has served you well. To Cantillon and many more days on The Farm!

The stage is now open please come on up and share your own troll story but keep it as respectful as possible.

Whatsername found herself a seat and a glass of wine and awaited some more roasts. She was hoping to laugh all night long as she was sure Cantillon would do too.

Jeddy springs up onto the stage and enthusiastically grabs the microphone, after going "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" a few times in response to Whatsername's amazing joke, Jeddy collects himself and makes a remark,

"Just remember Cantillon to be careful as you climb the mountains to the east of the Farm! One misstep will lead to a broken wrist, shattered dreams and a lifetime of alcoholism!"

After laughing to himself about his inside-joke, Jeddy jumps off the stage and resumes eating his Big-Mac.

Cantillon is a nice guy! I mean, yeah he's always been drunk when I've talked to him. And yeah, I can't tell the difference between him and Jeddy when they're talking.... I thought Cantillon was talking to himself, and he might've been. It sounded like he was laughing at his own (Jeddy's) jokes. Anyway... I guess that's trolling both of them. Sorry Godfather Jeddy. It's Scarin's fault I'm speaking. But anyway uh, yeah he's an old fuck... probably should start his own Irish whiskey company, given that he has a farm for barley etc. Could call it Cantacallan... meh. I'm tired. Oh yeah, your horns are small Cantillon!