Saturday, February 5



"Are you going to join?" asks Frederick with the horn on his head.

"Nah, I don't play anything," she replies.

"They say you don't have to know how," says Frederick. "Steve told me to just bang on something, like a tin can or cardboard."

"I don't know..." she looks down at her hooves. "I just don't get it. The whole thing. A stupid marching band isn't going to stop the giants or make the sun come out."

"I don't think that's the idea."

"Why don't we build some giant-traps?" she asks. "Then they'd stop smashing things if we could stop them from smashing things."

"No," he says. "The idea is to build community solidarity, for us to march through the streets banging on anything we can find and yelling in order to make our voices heard. That's what Steve and Bermuda said..."

"Maybe we could dig a big hole and cover it," she says, getting excited about the idea. "Like a tiger trap. Maybe put some spikes at the bottom so whatever falls in gets spiked dead."

"No, I think this marching band idea is better."

"Fine," she says. "Can I borrow your shovel?"

"Woa..." he says.

"Fred? Can I borrow it?"

"I feel kind of funny..."

Frederick starts growing really big. "Wait!" she yells up at her smiling friend as he steadily gains altitude. "Are you... Where's your shovel?"

But Frederick stomps away into the night, laughing like a little kid, without saying goodbye. He pulls a telephone pole out of the ground as he leaves, wires going everywhere, and catches someone's yard on fire.

Her first thought is "I should help put that fire out." Her second thought is, "No, I need to dig a hole to trap the giants." Her third thought, as she quickly digs the hole with her new giant-hands is, "This dirt is good. I'll eat lots of it." Which she does, quickly eating all the lawns on that particular street (the lawn wich was set fire to tasting the best). She has no more thoughts other that what fun it is to eat buildings, trees, cars, and tiny people.

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