Hint, hint
"QUICKLY, MOUTH OF ME!" Sauron bellowed. "I DESIRE TO KNOW THIS IDEA OF YOURS! AS I DESIRE TO KNOW WHY YOU HAVE BROUGHT OUT ALL OF OUR CRAYONS AND LINED THEM UP ON THE CARPET! BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE! THEY MELT, YOU KNOW, AND RUG DOCTORS DON'T COME CHEAP!!"
Thus saying, the Dark Lord took a quick peek out the window, hoping that the troll had gotten bored and left. It hadn't. It had seated itself on a nearby uprooted tree and was staring balefully up at Mount Zoom.
"HEY YOU! TROLL!" Sauron yelled. "YOU STILL HERE?!" The troll looked down at himself, then up at the tower, then down at the tree, then at the tower again.
"Me think so," he yelled back. "But me need dees moneys now!"
It smacked its giant club against its open palm menacingly. Sauron withdrew back into the mountain.
"WE NEED MONEYS, MY MOUTH," Sauron said. "I DON'T THINK WE CAN RUN THE TROLL OVER; IT'LL SCRATCH THE PAINT JOB. WHAT IS YOUR PLAN?"