“Uh, whata mean?” He said playing with the straw in his soda. I raised my left eyebrow and scowled at him. Grant shifted nervously along the plast...c of the booth’s seat. I reached my left hand down slowly to my backpack, looked around to bar making sure the waiter wasn’t around and placed the green panties delicately onto the table. I heard Grant stifle a cough, that famous Atlanta soda was getting sucked into his lungs instead of his stomach. “Ugh,” he coughed again pounding his chest. I sat. “AAAACK!” screamed the giant. “Don’t kill me! I’m trying to go home!” He broke into a series of thunderous sobs.It’s pretty hard to feel fear for a crying giant, especially one who just pulled himself into a huddle that approximated a fetal position, in the middle of which was a tired and bedraggled goose, honking feebly.“I’m not going to kill you,” said Jack. “Why are you still here?”“I can’t get up the beanpole,” moaned Mortimer. “It’s all slippery and there’s nothing to grab onto.”“Oh,” said. More

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