Jason Clark was getting sick of waiting around. He
aggressively rocked in his wooden chair on the front porch while stoically
chewing a piece of wheat. The fields before him were bountiful with vegetables
and fruit whether it was corn and potatoes or strawberries and watermelons.
They all looked mouthwateringly delicious to even the biggest of appetites.
These vast fields of food were all thanks to the backbreaking, sweat dripping
hard work of the Clark family.
Middle-aged Jason didn’t want to think about his family too
much. Knowing they would never come back from the dead put the occasional tear
in his eye. A beautiful wife and two happy children were ripped from his life
in a bloody struggle that Jason could never forgive. “Today is the day,” he
said to himself in a stern and gravelly voice. “No turning back.”
And then the sounds and tremors of gigantic footsteps rang
across the fields. Even though Jason’s two-story house was shaking, he wasn’t
in a huge hurry when he stood up and slowly walked in front of the dirt path
leading to his home. The source of the earth-shattering footsteps was plain in
sight and all the farmer could do was fold his arms and give him a hateful
frown.
There he was in all of his fifty-foot tall glory: King
Blizzard. He had the golden crown and long red cloak to prove his “royalty”. He
looked more like an outlander barbarian with a fur loincloth covering his body
and ogre-like dentistry. He acted like one too when he leaned down and screamed
at Jason in an attempt to get his bones rattling and adrenaline flowing. The
stoic farmer didn’t blink, let alone budge.
“You’re awfully confident for someone who could get stepped
on like the insect you are!” grunted King Blizzard in his throaty, demonic
voice.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” said Jason. “All I did was put in the
best work of my life this year to make sure you have all your food. That is
what you came here for, right? An undeserved handout? Hell, I could have used
one when you murdered my family.”
Blizzard stood up straight and let out an obnoxious belly
laugh. “Trust me, you didn’t need those little twerps anymore. They were doing
you no good. If anything, they held you back. You know what happens when
farmers don’t give me what I’m entitled to, right? They get smashed!”
The unflinching Jason Clark spit out the wheat straw and
said, “Yeah, I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of. But the real question
is…do you know what I’m capable of?”
The giant’s next belly laugh caused him to stumble backwards
and land on his ass, sending a ripple throughout the ground and nearly knocking
Jason on his back. “Wow, you’re quite the comedian today! Maybe instead of
being a farmer, you should be a court jester! You’d probably make more money
dancing and singing like an idiot than you would feeding my big ass! Speaking
of which…”
Blizzard started uprooting various crops around his massive
body. He ate handfuls of pumpkins and watermelon like they were candy. He
picked his teeth with ears of corn. He stuffed mounds of lettuce in his mouth
like it was his last meal. Throughout his banquet, he smacked his lips, drooled
rivers all over himself, and burped sonic booms like the annoying bastard he
was. “Is this seriously all you’ve got? I’m still hungry! Feed me, you pathetic
human!”
“How about instead of eating like a spoiled brat, you
actually start being thankful for the bounty these farmers give you! We work
our asses off for three hundred and sixty-five days a year just so you could
feed that massive belly of yours! And just so you know, Blizzard, we were all
secretly hoping that your filthy eating habits would earn you a heart attack!
But I guess that’s all wishful thinking, now isn’t it!” screamed Jason with his
clinched fists at his sides.
“You’ve got some balls on you, son,” said Blizzard as he started
to stand back up. He looked down on Jason as if he was nothing more than a
flea. The giant’s eyebrows furrowed. His voice grew angrier. His balled up
fists were like wrecking balls. His whole body was a weapon of war, a war he
was determined to win within seconds.
He reached down and picked up Jason Clark before squeezing
him tightly in his mountainous hand. Aside from a few grunts and groans, the
farmer remained as stoic as ever, uncaring about his own life now that his
family was torn away from him. The giant could squeeze until the Jason’s head
popped like a zit and there would still be courage in the little guy’s heart.
“I should just crush you in the palm of my hand right here
right now!” shouted King Blizzard. “But I’m not going to give you the
satisfaction of a quick death. No, I’m going to draw this out for as long as I
damn well want. The first thing I’m going to do is rip off your arms and legs
one at a time.”
In a strained voice, Jason said, “Do your worst! See if I
give a shit!”
“Your balls are too big for your own good, little buddy.
Maybe I’ll rip them off first!” threatened Blizzard. “But first, I need to have
a seat. All that food’s giving me a cramp.” The giant chuckled evilly before
sitting down on Jason’s two-story house and crushing it to toothpicks.
And then Blizzard’s threatening mood changed to one of pain
and agony. At first he winced and shivered to try and ease himself. He even
loosened his grip around Jason long enough for him to get away and roll on the
ground to cough up little droplets of blood. Blizzard couldn’t take it anymore.
He let out the world’s loudest growl of pain as he rolled over and revealed the
source of his agony. He had a column of piled up furniture going up his ass
crack. Heat stoves, couches, bookshelves, and even a spiky tube was stacked
high from the top to the bottom of the house.
As King Blizzard’s anus was bleeding profusely from the
furniture sodomy, Jason, who was on his back breathing painfully, poked his
head up and said, “You feel that, big guy? You feel that?! Good! I hope it
hurts like hell! I’ve been hurting for a whole year ever since you took my
family away from me! But did I back down? No, I didn’t! I kept plowing my
fields and I gave you some of the best food you’ve ever eaten! Consider this
your last meal before your execution!”
Blizzard’s breathing became labored and raspy as his anus
continued to bleed all over the remains of Jason’s house. “Execution?! You’re
the one who’s going to be executed, you little shit!” The giant fumbled and
staggered in his attempt to stand back on his feet. He was still bleeding
profusely, but for a moment he blocked out the literal pain in his ass and
focused on the figurative one lying on the ground below him.
The giant limped and dragged himself over to Jason’s broken
body. But the minute he knelt down to pick him up again, the pain in his ass
fired up and he screamed some more. After a while of dancing around in pain,
King Blizzard’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards with a
resounding thud, shoving the furniture up his ass even more. There was no more
movement, no more screaming, and no more tyranny. King Blizzard had just become
the world’s biggest rotting corpse.
In his groundbreaking fall, Blizzard landed back first on
Jason’s body, crushing it into blood and bones and taking him to the afterlife
with the giant. But was this battle considered a draw? Hardly. After a few days
of inactivity, several of Jason Clark’s farmer friends visited his fields and
saw the proof themselves that he was a hero. King Blizzard was slain and a
victory square dance was in order.
Before there could be a grand celebration, a funeral would
take place to honor the Clark family. There
would be plenty to eat at the ceremony since Blizzard left behind fields and
fields of uneaten food. But more importantly, Blizzard himself would be on the
menu since his muscular body had more meat on it than the entire world’s cow
population.
What did the farmers call this new food company? The name
was a no-brainer. Ho, ho, ho! Green Giant!
