A Giant's Cook - Chapter 9 (first part)

A Giant’s cook

Written & illustrated by Frenchfeeder

IX. The floating belly of dreams

               “Of gold and purple, and this kingly paunch

                Swells like a sail before a favouring breeze,

                And these most sacred nether promontories

                Lie satisfied with layers of fat...”

                               Percy B. Shelley, Oedipus Tyrannus

  

  In ancient times, the sun rising over Mount Moob was considered a sight to behold. The icy, white summits of the highest mountains in all Mittel Earth were glowing brighter than gold or silver... When the first villages were established, in forests so dense and dark that men felt like walking through an eternal night, that vision of light and warmth was revered as a manifestation of some superior goodness – quite out of reach, yet not out of this world.

  Right now, the early hours of dawn in the Northern forests occurred in complete silence : There was no one to attend that morning glory. A gentle breeze was flowing over various shades of green grass on the hills. Only the general curve of the valley betrayed the presence of a giant, sometimes in the past – with signs of a truly monumental ass, excessively wide and round, most certainly kept in a prolonged sitting position... The remains of a little village were already turning into ruins, and the shores had been washed of any footsteps, many times, by the waves coming from the Great Lake. A few lines of split wood and ropes, parts of torn sails and flags, indicated some distant disaster over treacherous waters...

  Nature had come back to her original self : peaceful, opened, fresh, whispering – and mysterious.

“Come on, we don’t have all day !”

“I’m almost there... One last touch, and this painting will be completed.”

  The Boar had been feasting with his army, after pillaging another small village in Kastel-Pancia. The baron’s castle was only one day away, considering how fast they were advancing, in spite of the increasing weight and size of his men... It was a moment of personal triumph for him as commanding officer, who had also “devoured” his way through a great number of large meals and would become too fat to walk, pretty soon...

“And you ! Eat your cake, PIG !”

  Mark was standing on all four, his face almost buried in a huge cream cake. At the moment, he was also playing both ends of a horse for the Boar to mount and pose while the artist in his troops gave a few more brushstrokes to his canvas.

   The famous “Giant’s Cook” was still paying for his previous insolence. From the first day that the Boar had forced everyone to march with his men and serve them like slaves, Mark had been personally bullied in every way the Boar was so fond of. Being humiliated was one thing. Being beaten was tougher to overcome, although Mark had been more than used to it, ever since he was a child. Now his thicker, fatter body also made him more resistant to most blows – so the Boar spanking him was merely annoying... He was suffering a lot more from his last method for torture, which consisted of constant, around-the-clock force feeding of cakes, creamy pastries and milk-shakes.

  Being the Boar’s pet proved to be a challenge for his belly, already overblown and sensitive as it was. During their march to the East and North, a pile of food was always left by his side, for him to munch on and graze all day, like a cow... At least cows were allowed to eat grass – Mark would have welcomed a salad or anything green, at this point ! He had to eat his way through cupcakes after cupcakes, chocolate mousse after chocolate mousse, pudding and other thick goodies... The only moments of peace he could get were when he let out another almost unending belch – his whole body quivered for a few minutes and there was finally less pressure on his belly. Only these moments never lasted long.  Soldiers kept teasing Mark, and poked him, urging him to eat. As a result, he was exhausted, out of breath, and out of shape. Even he was amazed at his new weight gain and growth. He almost looked like a miniature image of his dear friend the Giant – who was another source of constant worry for him...

  According to the Boar, however, there was no giant ! There had never been a giant ! It was only one of those tall stories from Kastel-Pancia, like the legends regarding the baron’s castle. The giant had been an invention – and a very poor one – springing from the simple mind of a drunk peasant telling tales, a scary bedtime story for kids around here. Its lack of any original content was balanced by that natural tendency to lie and deceive an audience, which the Boar found so common among storytellers.

  He had never seen the giant. His men had never seen anything like the giant. Surely the baron’s army had never been that strong. And the battleships sent on the Great Lake had been fighting to their Death, for the glory of Burgstijn-at-the-Seams and Stockytown. That was something anyone should believe, instead of pretending that a wild, gluttonous, blonde beast had been wandering in these forests... especially one standing over five hundred feet tall !

  Everyone trusted the Boar, and feared him. They applauded as he spoke. The peasants who had known the beast, only to lose him, were reduced into slavery – and silence... It was more reassuring for everyone to keep everything as it was, in its natural order – where men were men, the poor were poor, and the rich grew fatter and fatter, popping another shirt button opened every hour. With the baron’s treasure almost in his pocket, the Boar could pretend to become the richest man in Mittel Earth, the most powerful man in Mittel Earth ! And with that power in his hands...

“I am going to grow so fat that I will crush all those noble sons of bitches, just by sitting on their faces !”

  The Boar had already grown so round and smooth that no clothes could fit – except for his leather boots. Most of his men’s uniforms were also worn out, and they felt all the more heroic for it !

“Looks good...” The artist complimented. “One can only appreciate being so fat when he can roll and play naked in the woods.”

“And tomorrow morning, we march to the castle !”

  At least the baron’s castle wasn’t a legend... His wealth was no myth either. Centuries of stealing, pillaging, robbing the peasants and imposing pressuring taxes on his neighbors meant a whole lot of gold, thrown into the baron’s chests and coffers. Everyone knew the deceased baron. Everyone knew about his castle. This was real. Gold was real. The Boar smiled as he considered his projects for the near future...

“Finish your cake, PIG ! There’s more pie for you before we leave this meadow.”

  Mark grunted. The Boar let out a satisfied belch, and patted his round stomach, weighing on his victim as much as he could. He was ready for another full turkey with stuffing... And he would keep eating while sitting on his pet pig like this. The famous Giant’s cook had grown into such a comfortable chair. And what an honor it was for scum like him, to carry the most heroic ruler in all Mittel Earth ! Some day, the Boar’s adventures in the North would become another kind of tale – a legend ! He was the Devourer, the guy who had conquered Kastel after crushing Pancia with one blow of his meaty fist...

  Right now, the council of the merchant’s guild in Stockytown was still waiting for his reports. Surely, it was only a matter of time before these foolish adventures would be finished, and they could listen to it over and over while feasting on large roasts – which most of the boys wished to be juicy, lardy Boar ! Then the noble young men in Burgstijn-at-the-Seams were far more preoccupied with the rumors about the Giant.

“Another resignation ?”

“I’m afraid so...”

“Not from another officer !”

“Worse. From their general !”

“Again ?”

“Again...”

“This is getting ridiculous !”

“We have put him in command only four weeks ago !”

“And we have changed generals every four weeks before him...”

“This is an outrage. Such disobedience is absurd ! I want to hear that man.”

  The council was buzzing with complains, outcries, insults and the occasional burps that echoed through the main hall. A messenger was sent immediately, and the general was introduced at once to answer for his failure in the field.

  To be precise, the general entered the hall, carried by six soldiers of his retinue. He was so enormously obese that he could hardly move. The men who supported his massive body in the carriage were sweating like pigs, their bodies half-naked and glistening by candle light... They looked completely out of breath, but they had to be strong enough to carry such a load as their commanding officer... And they were definitely more than chubby athletes too !

  Everyone in the council, and in the noble assistance, was simply dumbstruck.

  They remembered the strapping young man who had so recently been honored and appointed as general in charge of the Giant’s feedings. After some time, and with a great deal of effort, there was something familiar about that pile of naked, buttery flesh resting comfortably over the ground. His eyes had not changed... His hair had only grown a little bit longer, moving in the cool air of the hall.

  A smile spread on his large, pumpkin-cheeked face. He seemed to enjoy being inside this hall, in the shadow – instead of roasting under the sun. For a good minute, there was only silence in the room...

  Then he let out a soft moan, and the master of requests pulled himself together and began the questioning.

“Why did you abandon your position ?”

“I never did... I never ran away from my duties.”

“I don’t think this man could run away from anything...” a few members of the council mumbled simultaneously.

“Still, you want to resign your position. Why ?”

“I just wish to... stay away from the giant.”

  The placid, cherub-cheeked man kept his voice low and soft, his eyes only half-opened.

“Are you afraid of him ?”

“In a strange way, I am... Of course, he is still lying on his back, restrained and well-fed every day, but... There’s something strange about him. Strange things keep happening around that beast.”

  The master of requests let out a sight. The council had received far too many notes and reports from their headquarters on the field – “strange occurrences”, “strange events”, “strange behaviour”...

  They had ignored those reports, at first. Then one particular observation had caught their attention.

  Every two weeks or so, the thick ropes restraining the giant’s ankles had to be repaired, and firmly planted into the ground to keep the beast fully immobile. It was generally assumed that the giant had moved a little during his sleep. He was always eating, after all. Great quantities of food were thrown into his feeding funnel at all times – then he had to digest and sleep, which could cause some agitation. It was only natural.

  But every time the soldiers planted those tree-like pikes, they noticed that their position had to be changed, going further and further away from their original spot, by a few yards at least – and going East !

  Experts were consulted, and their conclusion was quite alarming : The giant had certainly moved. His couldn’t quite toss and turn, but his massive, fattened body slipped a bit as he digested. And, considering that the plains were going a bit downhill from Sacka-Graez to Burgstijn-at-the-Seams, he was getting closer to their city !

  That information was kept a secret. The council refused to deal with another panic among the population. Only very discreetly, they sent new experts and asked for confirmation that the giant was indeed moving away from O’Baybib Abbey and Sacka-Graez.

  To their astonishment, the news they recieved told the exact opposite of what they had been informed !

  Every time the soldiers had to tie the Giant’s wrists to the ground, they moved to the West by a few yards. And almost every week, a special team had to move the towers that supported the immense funnel which kept the blonde beast fully supplied with milk, beer and so many fattening foods...

  The monks were actually convinced that the giant had been creeping his way up to their abbey – slowly but steadily ! – and the council soon received a concerned message from their King in Sacka-Graez.

  This was a puzzle for the technical staff in Burgstijn, until one of the youngest experts noticed that he had just outgrown his pants, during his mission. Looking down, he took both ends of his leather belt in his hands and shouted :

“Of course ! The giant is getting closer to us AND O’Baybib. He has not moved at all. He is simply growing taller !”

  Far from reassuring everyone in the council, that discovery was discussed over and over until soldiers were requested to take measurements, along the Giant’s body, from one garrison to the next. The final result proved that the beast had actually grown bigger, just like a teenager. His current height was well over 2500 feet !

“This is appalling...”

“Does this mean that we should reconsider our strategy ?”

“What ? Stop feeding him ? Letting him wake up, no longer drunk ? What are our options here, really ?”

  The council of Burgstijn-at-the-Seams gracefully thanked the experts for their contribution to the safety and glory of their city – by sending them to prison, where their silence would be ensured by keeping their mouths constantly full of fried chicken wings and drumsticks, greasy grits, soft cakes and pies...

  Then the number of garrisons was increased, almost doubled, so they would keep the Giant under close surveillance. Even the general and his officers were replaced.

  That last decision may have been ill-advised. Rumors about all those “strange events” occurring around the enormous beast had started with soldiers returning to their homes and families.

“All right, general ! Tell us about the situation there...”

  The magnificently obese man had almost fallen asleep while the council was recollecting such memories. He was so comfortable in there that a few servants had to use forks to tickle him and wake him up.

“Well... I didn’t expect anything like this, but it seems that the giant’s presence disturbs everything in Nature.”

“How so ?”

“I don’t know...”

“What, only by being here ?”

“That would be my guess... All he does is eat and drink, all day, all night, sucking on that amazing funnel we keep filling with whole milk, and beer, and so many delicious foods...”

  There was a low, even ominous rumble from the general’s stomach, and he licked his lips at his own mention of food.

“What disturbance have you observed ?”

“Well... for one thing... everything has become more fertile : even the grass is growing faster around him... Trees are bearing ripe fruits at all times, sheep grow round and fat, pigs get too large to crawl to their trough, yet they are still fattening up, day after day... Chicken lay hundreds of eggs every day, cows give birth to a dozen young calves... and these grow strong and meaty over the course of a few weeks !”

“Does this affect the soldiers too ?”

“Of course it does. And peasants as well ! Every woman in the land is pregnant at the moment. And every grown man is going crazy. They’re all so... horny.”

  Life around the giant was divided in two parts : day and night – only “day” was defined by the moment when the sun rose above the giant’s round, tall belly... During those “days”, every man would be hungry – extremely hungry – so hungry that he would grab a bite every now and then, whatever there was around them. They hardly ever stopped. They couldn’t resist. Food was more abundant than ever. There had never been such delicious food either – and never so fattening ! Even fruits felt like cream-filled, deep-fried buns under the sun. As a result, soldiers and peasants, and the occasional visitors sent on a mission went to sleep with their bellies stuffed full – so full that it ached, only in a different way than they were used to.

  Once the sun had gone down and they were in the shadow of the Giant’s body, all men felt horny – extremely horny – so horny that they had to relieve their sexual tension at once, no matter who was there around them... Belly rubs invariably lead to licking bellies, and kissing, and then it was too late to even consider resisting that urge. It was not uncommon for a young soldier to have multiple partners during the same night – often inside the same tent as well... Some orders had been given so that men would keep to their posts at night – then all the military camps were filled with moans and sighs of pleasure, and satisfied belches until the sun rose again and it would be time to eat !

 “We can’t go on like this... We don’t even fight the giant, and we’re losing that battle against him ! All our men are fed far too well, and far too much... They’re growing too lazy to fight any battle. Most of them can’t even walk out of bed without someone helping them !”

  The general may have been reduced to immobility, but his mind was still clear and active. The council admitted that he had a point... The master of requests coughed and thanked him gracefully for his contribution to the safety and glory of Burgstijn-at-the-Seams.

“You may retire now.”

  Then the general and his six carriers were sent to prison, where strong guards immediately pushed cream cakes and pies into their mouths to keep them shut. They were officially accused of stealing food meant for the giant, and stuffing themselves without any regard to their duty.

“Okay... What do we do now ?”

“Tough times.”

“Tough decisions...”

“And tough orders to give too...”

“I don’t know... Should we order takeout ?”

  In Sacka-Graez, the news regarding the Giant’s recent growth was no secret to the monks. King Matti had already thought about this side-effect. The beast was young. Being underfed all these years had probably kept him from growing immensely tall – and he shuddered to think how tall this beastly boy was meant to grow ! – but his body was ready for it... He had noticed that the two boys in the kitchens, underground, had also grown a bit taller – only their bellies almost filled the room !

  Everyone would have to give it another push, to make that Giant really obese...

  King Matti had kept on reading the ancient chronicles, but with no result. There was nothing he could do. Then, out of the blue, a messenger was announced at the gate.

“He says it’s important !”

“Everyone considers himself important... Where does he come from ?”

“O’Baybib...”

“O’Baybib ?”

  King Matti laughed out loud, sending shivers to his multiple chins and down to his well-shaped, flabby man boobs... He expected news from Burgstijn, or from the knights he had sent up North to recover the treasures from Pohr-Kerwann – certainly not from the South and East, from O’Baybib. No man had ever come out of O’Baybib.

“Well... Except you, your majesty.”

“Oh ! Right... Except me.”

  This caused him to frown. He remembered his experience in O’Baybib, among the cherubs. While that time in his life had been entirely devoted to pleasure, he was not quite fond of those memories. In his opinion, there had always been something strange about that “Paradise” – brother Fratz had warned him against it. Maybe he would get answers now...

“All right. Let him in.”

  The monk who entered King Matti’s private chamber was rather remarkable – well over 7 feet tall, well over 400 pounds, dark and athletic. He was sporting a trim, black beard and there was something deep about his mahogany eyes... He bowed respectfully and addressed a compliment to his king.

“Look at you... Even for a former cherub, you have grown well !”

  That kind of compliment obviously meant nothing to him. King Matti was a little uncomfortable with this man standing in front of him, while he was reduced to sit on his wide, solid throne...

“And what do I owe the pleasure of your visit ?”

  The King was simply thinking “What the hell does this creep want from me ?” – and it was not lost on the creepy guy in question. His tone changed immediately, his voice going down an octave or so. At least he made himself understood.

“You have two very chubby, very obese boys in your underground kitchen. I will take them with me.”

“Why would I let you take two boys from our monastery ?”

“They no longer belong to your monastery. They are cherubs...”

“They are not cherubs ! They are not even monks...”

“You are right, they are not. But they are ripe.”

  And the dark man licked his lips as he said that last, strange word.

“...Ripe ?”

“And they will be necessary to our cause, soon...”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is no need for you to understand. Only to assume your kingly duties and enjoy being the King...” he started rubbing Matti’s vast paunch with eager, soft hands. “And we will do our knightly duties. And so... we’re even : You escaped, we will have those two in exchange.”

“What do you mean ? How useful can they be ? Or any cherub, for that matter !”

“They will take part into the Ceremony.”

  That last word sounded particularly threatening.

“What Ceremony do you mean ?”

“Please, your Majesty...” the dark, athletic knight embraced his King, kneading his meaty body with his palms. “Don’t tell me that the previous Holy Father has not told you about the Holy Revelations.”

“Well, the previous... Holy Father...”

  Matti was shivering a bit, not from laughing this time. He was feeling hotter and hotter right now, but any memory regarding the old man was bad to him : He had done everything he could to get rid of him, sending him to Pohr-Kerwann, then to O’Baybib...

  There was no doubt that the old Holy Father had secrets – only he had taken them to his grave.

“Our Holy Father died before he could tell me anything about it.”

“Well... I can’t say that I am surprised.”

“Then tell me. What is that... Holy Revelation ?”

“Still...” the dark, tall man took off his robe, revealing a perfect, well-muscled body – leaving King Matti wide-eyed and silent. “You have unearthed the original legend about our glorious monastery. We all admired you for it, in O’Baybib. But then you should know.”

“Know what ?” the King asked, almost begging as he started to sweat, huff and puff from the knight’s all too gentle belly rubs and arousing slaps.

“Our very first Holy Father...”

“The one they called the... Miracle Child ?”

“That’s right. What were his last words ?”

“Huh... His last words... Didn’t he say...”

“I’m fat enough, for now.”

“Oh...”

“That’s what he said.”

  Suddenly, Matti saw the light. Cherubs were fattened up all the time, fatter and fatter – without holding back – without mercy ! – but to what end ? That was the question no monk had ever dared to ask. 

“So... What is that Ceremony ?”

“Easy. Nice and easy...”

  The dark, tall knight got up again, staying only half an inch away from his king, leaning over him – then he gently held his chubby face in his hands, and kissed him on the lips.

“Err... What was that ?”

“It's the kiss of Death.”

“Death ? You mean... Death ?”

“That’s right. With Apocalipstick features – considering that this Giant is causing so much trouble in our land...”

“Oh...”

“At least the ancient prophecies were quite accurate.”

“So you knew... about it ? His coming ?”

“We knew. About everything.”

  Then the knight took his King to bed – and told him the whole truth about that Paradise which monks known as O’Baybib Abbey.

  Thousands of years before, when the first monks had established their power in Sacka-Graez, a young prophet had warned them against excessive progress and excessive wealth – when gold coins were in circulation and it had already become a tradition to eat eighteen-course meals. He had told his brothers to be ready for some response from their Mother Nature.

  And so they had created that special abbey in the South : O’Baybib. Then, for centuries, young monks had been chosen and sent to that particular place, never to be seen again.

“Only you have seen it. You know...”

“That’s right... I know.”

“Spread your thighs a little bit further... You have been treated like all the other cherubs. Only you haven’t been treated the way all the other cherubs get to enjoy it... to their end.”

  In the secret registers kept in O’Baybib from the day of its foundation, Cherubs were divided into two categories : the “growing” angels, and the “sleeping” angels. Newcomers had to become “growing” angels – through intense, constant gorging with remarkably fattening foods and an overactive sex life. The way for a “growing” angel to become a “sleeping” angel was through the Ceremony.

“Basically, when a cherub can’t possibly grow any fatter... Usually around 3000 pounds, sometimes up to 4000 pounds... He gets his Holy Revelation and goes to sleep. We have built a great number of enormous, comfortable chambers for all our sleeping angels...”

“How many chambers ?”

“About... three hundred thousands.”

“Three hundred... THOUSANDS ?”

“We have been waiting for this Giant for a long time ! And now the army of sleeping angels is ready.”

“Ready for what ? You told me that they are sleeping...”

  Matti had a bad feeling about all this. He was moaning and shivering under the knight’s touch – and fascinated – feeling bad had never felt so good !

“Do you suggest that these obese cherubs could... wake up ?”

“No. They are sleeping very peacefully. We shouldn’t disturb them. And they are quite happy, you know. They hardly even snore, but they smile – even if their underground chambers are quite cool, to be honest.”

“So... What will you do with them ?”

“Easy. We will send them to fight the Giant. On our own terms, this time !”

  Now everything was clear. All those fattened, immobile boys would be turned into meat pies and sent to the huge, blonde beast, lying in the vast plains of Burgstijn – thrown down the funnel and feeding tube, into his mouth and inside his enormous stomach...

“That was our original plan to get rid of the Giant ?”

“Exactly. Think about it. This beast is hungry ! It is here to devour us. All of us. And you gave him an even greater appetite, with our secret recipes !”

“Oh...”

“At least they also helped making him MUCH fatter ! Now, think about it : What is the most fattening food in all Mittel Earth ?”

  Matti followed the monk’s eyes and hands, looking down to his own, immensely obese belly. He gulped down hard.

“...We are ?”

“That’s right. From now on, we feed this greedy beast what he truly needs to eat. Very soon, he will be so FAT that he will go to sleep – forever !”

  King Matti had no choice. It was probably better that only a group of chosen boys were to be sacrificed, instead of everyone in Mittel Earth...

  In the morning, the knight came downstairs to visit the two boys in the kitchen. They were still locked in, considering that they had both grown too large to fit through the door and hallways. As a matter of fact, all pieces of furniture had been removed from the kitchen to allow their naked, overfed bodies to cover all the space on the floor...

  They were sleeping at the moment, after a long night of cuddling and fondling their immensely chubby bellies and buttocks. King Matti usually sent for a light breakfast of fifty to sixty pies and two dozens vats of butter cream milk – but not this time. They had to stay a bit hungry to be transported.

“So there they are...” said the knight with an impish grin. “Lucky boys... Good boys too ! They have grown nicely, considering that they were lean and starving peasants only a few months ago.”

  They opened their eyes and started moaning as the tall knight proceeded to rub and knead their soft flesh. He was obviously satisfied with their size.

“Wake up, wake up, little piggy... It’s time for you to be grown into a real, manly porker !”

  With great effort and pain, they were put on huge horse carriages and sent to O’Baybib – a long, slow trip. All the monks were relieved : The kitchen they occupied would be working again. King Matti was more concerned. He knew that these poor boys would never return...

  Then messengers sent to Pohr-Kerwann came back with more distressing news. There seemed to be open revolt in their territories in the North.

  A few days later, new supplies came to the valley in Burgstijn territory, where the giant got his day long, enormous meals. The feeding towers had been moved and reinforced again – which proved to be quite necessary, as the monks were now delivering their food in the form of meat pies so large and so heavy that no soldier had ever imagined anything like it. They had to be weighing over 3000 pounds ! – and they certainly looked quite... nourishing.

“Wow ! Look at them go...”

“Look at HIM go !”

  Once they had reached the top level of that feeding tower, pies were pushed one after the next into the gigantic cone of copper, all gleaming and slippery with butter, and into the feeding tube. Such pies were almost wide enough to work as corks for that tube... Then the Giant munched down on them. It took at least five minutes for each pie to reach the edge of that funnel... and only a few seconds for the huge beast to swallow them whole !

  Then something remarkable happened.

  The Giant had already gulped down two dozens of these pies, when the soldiers in charge heard a low rumble, then a prolonged moan of pleasure emanating from the beast’s mountain-sized, plump, heaving chest...

“It seems to be... really filling !”

“He seems to like it a lot...”

“Let’s feed him more !”

“A LOT more !!!”

“Don’t forget to make him drink too...”

  The monks had brought large vats of beer – their own special brew.

  And then, for the first time, the Giant was really in trouble...

“We’ll supply you with six hundred meat pies like these, every day.”

“Six hundred pies ? You monks really know how to cook !”

“In one month from now, it will be one thousand and two hundred pies...”

“Every day ?”

“Every day.”

  Yes. The Giant was in BIG trouble !

“Come on, troop ! We have to speed it up ! We are getting nowhere...”

“Sorry, Commander, but it is getting dark and we can see the castle already.”

“Let’s plant our tents for the night...”

  The Boar considered their situation. They had been wandering through those forests for six days... This expedition was a lot harder than he had planned. And the road to the castle was merely a path, right now, narrow and dangerous – especially for men like him, with such large... shoulders.

“All right, all right. We will sleep here, and get to the castle tomorrow.”

  Every man in his troops felt relieved. They had been feasting on wild turkeys at lunch, and it was hard to walk on such a rocky slope, on a full stomach...

“Where’s my PIG ? Bring me my pig !”

  Mark was sent to his tent, still on all fours. He was a bit red in the face, and his belly was muddy and green with grass stains... Still, that look in his eyes had not changed – it was pure hatred, pure rage.

“Look at you, pig. So fat and round... So full of meat – and you haven’t even learned your lesson. Deep down, you’re always a thief...”

  Mark didn’t answer – only with his eyes... The Boar spent the night feeding him more, at least six whole, stuffed and roasted turkeys, hoping to make him cry and beg for him to stop stuffing his face. But the boy was proud ! He had even grown quite an appetite, and he could stand to eat a few more cream cakes...

  In the morning, however, Mark was unable to get up. His belly was so big, and so heavy that the poor boy kept staring at the sky, pinned to the ground – in his mind, his friend the giant was also lying down, somewhere, against a mountain or in the comfortable curve of a valley, accommodating his huge, bubble butt – looking up, with stars almost within his reach... Mark sighed.

“All right ! You’ll wait for me here !” the Boar teased him. “I will come back with my hands full of gold ! With my whole body covered in gold ! And I will stuff you so much... So much that your stomach will EXPLODE !”

  Mark only belched in contempt. The Boar was in high spirit, this morning. All his men followed him on that narrow path – to the castle.

  It was actually close. Somehow, they had found a shortcut.

  After three hours of march, with no real hurry – except for the Boar, who kept leading them while whistling a rather irritating song – they found the cliff, and the bridge, and the gates. There was the famous, sinister castle of the late baron of Kastel-Pancia...

  It was definitely grim. There were white clouds on top of its dark towers, white snow at the bottom of its dark walls. Everything around it was grey – the sky, the shadows from the trees... Even as they had succeeded in their mission, no man felt like shouting or smiling about it.

“This bridge looks solid enough. Let’s get in there !”

“Why is the path opened like this ? I don’t see any guard...”

“I don’t see anyone...”

  Naturally, the Boar lead the way into the castle. There was no smoke coming out of the chimneys. Window panels were creaking in the wind. The gates were also opened, and the chains looked frozen and rusty – this place had already been abandoned for months...

“No fighters, no fight.” said one soldier.

“Well, that’s good !” another commented. “I wouldn’t avoid a spear or a sword so easily today...” and he rubbed his naked, bloated belly with both hands.

“I don’t like this ! No fight, no victory, no glory...”

“What are you girls complaining about ?” the Boar turned to scold them. “Where there is gold, there is power !”

“So yours is the power...” the chubby boys said, looking down.

“And ours the glory !”

  The main hall was certainly not inviting, all in black stones with hardly a piece of furniture standing. The next rooms they found were also empty – and drafty.

“Is that all there is ?”

“Where’s the treasure ? Come on !”

  Going down, hoping to find chests and coffers in the basements rather than in the attic, they found a large door – bearing the enigmatic inscription

                                           AUR. SACR. FAM.

“What does it mean ?”

“Who cares ? I never wasted my time on reading !”

“Okay...”

“Follow me !”

  Then they found it – the treasure hall. Only there was more than one. The first room they found was larger than the main hall, and filled with chests, gold coins and jewels. Then that room was only the entrance to another, larger room – with more objects made of gold, large bricks of pure gold. And another room followed – and another – and another – until they found that each room had been carved inside the mountain, below the castle.

“It’s a gold mine...”

“Yes it is... And it’s MINE !”

  The Boar was beyond himself with excitement. He walked and waved his hands almost like a drunken boy at a party. Of course, the other men were also very much amazed.

“I wish I had learned how to count. This is beyond me...”

“We should have brought an accountant.”

“Come on ! There’s more !”

  They had to light their torches, as these rooms never saw the light of day. The deeper they went, down into the mountain, the more chests there were – then, as they had to be at the end of their search, they had to light more torches to find their way.

  Gold was everywhere around them : Statues of round-bellied men and heroes glistening in the monumental halls, and fountains of coins flowing into the gaping mouths of huge vases in the shape of frogs with enormous paunches.

“Well... There’s no accounting for taste.”

  The halls kept going further and deeper. Even their torches couldn’t win against the dark.

“Look at this... More coffers !”

“More chests ! This is a bottomless pit of gold...”

“It must be a very ancient treasure. The air feels dusty.”

“What is this ? Gold dust again ?”

“Come closer with your torch !”

  It was gunpowder.

“What the...”

  In Stockytown, the news regarding the Giant was no longer a secret, and the new merchant’s council was ready to celebrate. Considering how fast the giant was growing – not only larger but taller – he would soon crush Burgstijn-at-the-Seams under his feet ! And he would crush O’Baybib Abbey with his forehead !

  And what could the monks do without their celebrated “Paradise” ? Where would they go, when their gold supplies had been buried under that massive, gigantic ass ? And what could Burgstijn do when their city is all in ruins ? The Giant would certainly cover their land, pretty soon...

  On the other hand, they were expecting news from their conqueror in the North – the Devourer – the Boar ! He would come back with such an incredible treasure that they would become the really wealthy ones, the really powerful ones !

“We can even see the Giant’s belly from our borders...”

“That silly blonde beast has really GROWN !”

  It was true. The Giant was so fat that the top of his belly was visible from any town or village in the South. He had reached such unprecedented heights – even as towers and mountains go – that his body couldn’t possibly move, crushed as it was under such a monumental, heavy sphere of flabby guts.

“If you listen carefully, when there’s not too much wind, you can actually hear his enormous stomach rumbling !”

“Ha ! Ha ! Ha !”

“I’m not kidding... Listen.”

  And indeed there was a distant growling sound, almost like an explosion going underground, making the earth shake a bit... The tall glasses and vats of beer on the table made light clicking noises for a moment.

“What a greedy pig !”

“What a well-fed pig !”

“A toast to the pig !”

“And to the Boar !”

“Long live the Boar !”

  The gunpowder trap under the castle only caused the first of a series of mighty blows. Right before his death, the baron had turned his stronghold into a deadly, dreadful instrument of vengeance. The whole mountain was on fire for a moment – rocks crumbled, walls and towers fell down the cliffs, then there was nothing left but smoke, and prolonged echo in the distance.

  Mark and the other slaves didn’t get to see the caves catch fire, but they saw the castle falling apart, and vanishing in a cloud of dark dust...

“I guess my belly won’t explode today !” Mark commented with a smile, rubbing his painfully engorged stomach.

  And he closed his eyes. All the slaves enjoyed their first day of rest and sleep. In the morning, no soldier had come back. They were free.

“What do we do now ?”

“I’m still so full... I can hardly move !”

  It took them hours to get to their feet, then they considered the weapons and equipment left by Stockytown’s army, and they went on their way to Pancia – where they would enjoy a more gentle climate, at least.

  After a few days, Mark was able to stand and walk without help. It was hard for him to carry his own weight, but he was determined to get to Stockytown – and back to Burgstijn – then to find his friend, the Giant. His friends didn’t know. He didn’t share much of his thoughts with them at the moment. They were all just determined to find shelter and go on enjoying what they had.

  The first village they found was almost empty. There was a group of peasants still feeding a young soldier from Stockytown, keeping him in a pigsty. The poor boy had grown so well that he was no longer sleeping with the other pigs, drunk and naked in his own pen, with a smile on his face.

“You are all free, now.” Mark told the peasants after they had a few beers. “The Boar is dead. Stockytown will never get the baron’s treasure. I am not even sure that there was any treasure. Whatever was in that castle has vanished into thin air anyway...”

“You certainly need something less thin than air.” An old peasant told Mark.

“Come with us. We welcome visitors who bring such good news.”

  Mark told them his whole story. As soon as they recognized him as the famous “Giant’s Cook”, they cheered and embraced him, and offered him more desserts than he could possibly eat... It was very nice of them. Mark felt warm and happy for a moment. He had not felt this good for a long time.

  Even then, as he looked at all the people around him, eating and drinking and laughing in such a friendly fashion, he was concerned.

“I wonder how they are feeding him...”

  It had been a long time since Mark had seen his friend. According to him, the poor, innocent boy had fallen into a trap in the West – in Sacka-Graez. He was probably still there, surrounded by those monks who were certainly feeding him and fattening him up to death !

  That thought was simply too much for him to bear. He started crying.

“What’s wrong ? You should be happy that you’re free...”

“That we are all free !”

“I am happy about it... but where is the Giant ? What do you think ? Is he also free ?”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

  Mark suddenly realized that he was still the only man in all Mittel Earth who truly cared about the Giant, the only one who didn’t want to see him dead, cut into thousands of man-sized pieces and given to the pigs and dogs to devour... The others wouldn’t understand. Once again, that warm, fuzzy feeling was gone – merely an illusion.

  Still, the old man who had welcomed him and his friends looked at him, and smiled – a genuinely understanding smile.

“Come with me, boy.”

  Mark followed him outside. Stars were shining above them in their eternal, unmovable way.

“Do you miss him that much ?”

  Mark was almost startled by the question, and that gentle tone of voice.

“He’s my friend. I mean... I’m his friend. His only friend...”

“All right... I have heard rumors this morning. The Giant is still alive. He was in Sacka-Graez, but he’s left their realms – I can’t imagine why... They say that he is now in the Southern plains, between Burgstijn and the border to the monks’ territory...”

“Really ?”

  There was that little spark in Mark’s eyes. The Giant was a lot closer than he thought. There was hope for him again.

“If you follow this path to the South, you will reach a hamlet, which was used by Stockytown to take over our land. There are the remains of an observation tower – and if the stories we’ve heard are true... you should see the Giant from there.”

  Mark didn’t need to be told twice.

  After a night of rest and sleep, he left with his group of friends, abundantly supplied with food and beer by the peasants who were ready to spread the news that Stockytown had eventually lost the battle in the North...

“I should really advise you to keep it a secret. At least, for the time being...”

“Why should we ? You said so yourself, the Boar is dead !”

“The council in Stockytown has been very patient. They are still waiting for news, and they won’t take action before they get any. I believe that it is more careful not to say anything.”

  The peasants reluctantly agreed. Mark was actually wearing the boots and scarf that used to fit the Boar, a few weeks before. His friends had kept weapons and clothes that used to belong to Stockytown’s soldiers. With horses and the right flags and arms, they looked a lot less conspicuous – and their journey to the Southwestern coast went smoothly.

“This must be the tower...”

“Is it ?”

“I wouldn’t call it a tower, only a child’s game with ropes and wood sticks...”

“It must be the tower. We have followed this path to its end.”

  The construction looked solid enough, but certainly too light for Mark to climb his way up there. Being pig for the Boar had really taken its toll on his body. The poor guy was still way too obese, round and heavy for the task.

“Okay... You, and you !” Mark chose the two thinnest guys there were around him. “Get to the top and tell us what you see...”

  It took more than an hour for the two young men to climb the ladders to the top of that tower. They had to be very careful... Then they were able to stand up there.

“What do you see ?”

  The boys would have to shout to be heard. But, looking at them from below, and considering the way they moved and almost jumped and danced in joy, the news had to be good.

“He’s over there !”

“He’s alive !”

“And he’s WELL-FED !!!”

“He’s HUGE...”