“Yes father. We are eager to sit at your paws and share your infinite wisdom, for you have lived for many years and defeated many enemies.”

“Soon, my children, we will feast on the abundant garden, or as abundant as we can move here, given the sad lack of agricultural knowledge of the creature that planted it. And that creature is the angry giant.

“The angry giant looks scary, father. “

“In fact, he’s comically incompetent in most things. I watched him throw his shoulder throwing apples against a fence post and laughed screaming in pain and dancing madly when our friend Bobby the bee stung him as he disturbed the tranquility of the nature with its infernal lawn mower. And, in truth, he’s not really a giant but he’s bigger than us.

“What makes him angry, father?”

“Oh, almost everything. This guy is a ticking time bomb if you ask me. But I know one thing that certainly makes him angry: our presence in the bountiful garden. “

“What will we do when we meet the angry giant, father?” “

“When he comes out of his larger hangar next door, arms flapping, curses filling the air, pretend to be afraid and run away. Soon he will return to his shed, open a tin of mead or whatever drink he consumes, and forget our presence. And that’s when we feast, my children.

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