As he stands and rises above us, we hear the gurgling and churning of his massive stomach, the rolls of fat sloshing around what frame he may have inside.

“Did you bring my tribute?”

I didn’t answer. I just used all my strength and my whole body to push the sack of food closer to him.

“You came here because you want something?”

“Yes.”

“Then feed me, you know how this works.”

As I threw whole melons, birds, and loaves of bread into his open mouth, I wondered why I put up with this.

He’s worse than Jabba the Hutt.

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