The re-written account of the three billy-goats-gruff

Hi. My name is Larchina, and I am a troll. A pretty troll, mind you. I am not ugly like the rest of my type. I have more softer, kinder features. I am a model.
Before my blooming industry came up, I lived under a bridge. That's fine, mind you. LOTS of trolls live under bridges. I am here to tell you about my encounter with the billy-goats.
It's true. There is a written statement that plainly says that I was the troll who encountered the three billy-goats.
So, now you are wondering 'But you're a girl!'
True. But then one of the billy-goats is a girl too.
What happened was:

I was under my bridge, in the small corner where I would keep my bed-sheets and mattress hidden. A few metres away, there was a thick and swollen river, it's water just inches near my campy-stove.
I lived under a rather rickety bridge, where, right in the middle, there was a gaping hole. One one side was long, juicy, succulent grass, perfect for three hungry, pig-like goats to eat. On the other side, however, the three billy-goats had basically cleaned the whole area. It was dry, and dusty, and when it rained, all the water would create a huge puddle, and the bits that didn't turn into mud decided to make all the little tiny roots of grass into wet, coarse strands.
Now, I was angry about those three goats. A few years ago, the staggered around, half-starving, begging me for one of my sides of great-tasting grass to munch on.
"Just a temporary adjustment," the three of them said. They said, "A few months at the most."
Those dumb 'months' turned to years. So, they mowed away all my beautiful grass on one side, and then the began nagging me about the other side.
"Please," the would grunt, nodding their heads in a ridiculous way.
I only slightly liked one of them. She is the lady, Genny. The middle one. Her older brother, Jack, is a nerd, and is also very slow in come-backs, but for some reason, surprisingly strong. The youngest one, though, is a quick-witted, scanty-legged runt. Gerald. Ugh, I hated those two. In fact, I hate all three now.
Well, what happened was, I was under my bridge, and it was dawn. I was packing my bed-stuff away, when a really loud, clip-clop woke me to my senses. It was actually very loud.
I looked up, and Gerald was grinning at me, and brayed "Hey! I found some awesome grass on the other side of the bridge. And I found a piece of planking board!" And, to my horror, he dragged a piece of wood into my sight!
"Get it out!" I cried, and I climbed into the other side of the bridge. Gerald was relentlessly tugging and the wood, pushing and pulling until it just touched the other side of the bridge, and he back to cautiously walk across it.
I saw red. I imagined my beautiful, green meadow, with delicate strands of emerald grass being chomped to non-existence. My gorgeous butter-cups and daises being munched away. So I grabbed the end of the plank and flung it as hard as I could.
Gerald flipped over, and landed on the side of the bridge he had started on, on his back. He stared at me angrily.
"YOU IDIOT!" he yelled at me, "THAT SO HURT!" and he flounced off, the piece of plank only just balancing. I was about to fling the board off once and for all, but a hoof slammed on top.
"Stop."
Genny looked at me with her grey eyes.
I stared back, wondering why she was staring at me so angrily.
"Hi," I said casually, trying with all my might to throw the plank into the surging river below.
"Get off."
"NO! That grass is just for show!"
"Well, I WANT it."
"You can't have it."
"Tough!" Genny was getting angrier. She began to thrash about, and shouted "YOU JUST HAVE TO MAKE US STARVE, DON'T YOU?"
"WELL, YOU SAID IT WAS JUST A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT!" I shouted back.
Sighing angrily, Genny knew she was beaten. I felt very strong... until dreaded Jack blocked my view of Genny's sulky face.
"GET OFF!" he roared, "THIS SPOT IS NOW OURS!"
I screamed at him, no words forming inside my mouth. I just screamed, trollish squeals echoing around.
As I screamed, my energy weakened, and all of a sudden, with a frightful jerk, the wood was righted and I tipped into the raging river.
I saw the three goats gaily leaping about, and then running onto my lawn, perfectly preserved. I fell into a faint.

*

When I woke, I was lying on the banks of the river, with another troll looking down on me. I sat up immediately. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew her. She was a top model.
"Hey beauty," she said, "You 'right?"

*

After a few court-conducts, I won my lawn back, and some money to fix it up again. It took a while. Those goats were stuck in prison for a bit, and now they are out, on a pretty much short-cut lawn. But they published a book. The book was named The tale of the three-billy-goats gruff. I was angry that they had to change everything. They know the lawyers are pouncing on them soon. I have money by the buckets-fulls you know.
I am still sad. I can't believe people still find me an angry, goat-eating thing, and I find that is just getting wilder over time.
Oh my.
I hate those silly, stupid goats.
Time for tea!
Bye,
Larchina.

Hey, NurseryRhymes here. I got an appointment with Larchina, she spilt her heart out, and now her story is out.