Don Abdul: http://don-abdul.blogspot.com
Ray Sostre: http://theafterdarkworld.blogspot.co
When the door opened a giant, bald man appeared, wearing only a large black leather apron to cover his massive body. He stepped out to shake a dish towel.
“Good morning, kind sir. Could you spare some breakfast?” Jack asked, politely. “I’ve made a long journey just to get here, and I’ve had nothing to eat for a very long time.” Jack was amused by the black leather, silver studded collar the bald man wore around his neck.
“Is it breakfast you want, young, handsome wimp? You’ll be breakfast for my Master if you don’t start running off. My Master is very mean and likes young, handsome wimps to wet his appetite. Off with you before my Master wakes up,” the giant man warned.
“But please, kind sir, I’m very hungry,” Jack pleaded. “I’d rather he eat me for breakfast, if I have nothing to eat.”
“Call me Slave. Come in and be very quiet. You don’t want to wake Master. I’ll feed you but then you must be fast on your way.” Slave led him into a large kitchen made for giant men. He tossed Jack a piece of bread, as large as a boulder, and a chunk of cheese, as big as a Milky White’s head.
“Thank you, kind Slave.” Jack began devouring huge bites of the food. But suddenly he heard a loud Thump! Thump! Thump! shaking the foundation of the castle.
“Oh no, it’s Master,” Slave whispered, his body shaking as he spoke. “Hurry, hide in the breadbox,” the Slave warned. “Master will eat you for sure if you don’t hide.
Jack hid in the breadbox, listening to Master and peering through a crack in the breadbox when a bigger giant than Slave entered the kitchen with three young calves hanging from his shoulder. He was dressed in an open black, leather vest, chaps with silver chains, a big gold hoop earring hung from each ear and his nose.
“Slave, broil these for my breakfast,” Master bellowed his order. “What’s that I smell?” He paused as he inhaled through his nose. “Fe-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of a young, handsome wimp. Can’t tell if he’s dead or alive, but I smell one.”
“Master, surely your sense of smell is aroused by the leftover scraps of the young, handsome wimp you ate last night for dinner.” Slave tried to dissuade his Master’s instincts.
“Well, damn then, I must be hungry again. Fix me some breakfast before I get mad,” Master demanded.
Jack peered through the crack of the breadbox, watching the giant, Master, devouring the calves. The sounds of his teeth chomping shook the door of the breadbox.
When Master had consumed the calves he ordered Slave. “Bring me my bags of gold coins. I want to count my riches. I’ll be in the next room listening in case a young, handsome wimp arrives.” He thumped, thumped, thumped from the kitchen to the next room. “Bring me my ledger too. And tidy up the bedroom.” He yelled from the other room.
“Yes, Sir. Slave did what he was told. “Come out now, young, handsome wimp.”
Jack slid under the door of the breadbox and onto the floor. He was about to run out of the castle, but Slave hindered his escape.
“Don’t dare leave now. Wait until Master takes his nap. after he eats.” Slave hurried from the kitchen to do follow his orders.
Jack watched Master through a large opening in the door, counting gold coins and writing the amount in a ledger.
Shortly after Master’s head keeled over in a snooze, Jack went through the opening in the door.
While Master napped, Jack climbed up the table and grabbed one of the bags of gold coins.