The Last Thing You Will Ever Eat

Once upon a time — Before there were any Gods, the world was flat, but that’s a story for another time.

The ocean teamed with life, and the fields grew with every kind of grass, tree, and more grass, and some plants unrecognizable to what we have today.

There were birds, animals, and even people, but they weren’t like the kinds we know today.

And the land was polluted by an evil stench that burned trees, and spoiled the waters, and repelled all life.

And there was a great hunger. The first man to walk this land was undying and swallowed up anything and everything that caught his sight. This one we shall call Ogre.

The second man to walk this land was mortal like us, and his hunger was small — but while his hunger was small, he was soon to be many, and thus, his hunger was soon to be great. This one we shall call the Wanderer.

Well, one day, the Wanderer was, well, wandering. He wandered here. He wandered there. He wandered everywhere. He wandered and wandered, and then he wondered.

“What is this vile stench? What can I do about it?”

He finally stopped wandering, and there he stopped near the foot of Sleeping Giant — Called so, because the mountain, from afar, looked quite like that of a Sleeping Giant.

Well, it was dark, and the Wanderer was tired of wandering. So, he laid down to rest against the foot of Sleeping Giant.

And there he would live many years hiking up Sleeping Giant. It was there he built his home, and there he built his trade. He was a hunter, a farmer, a carpenter, and a cook. It is said that his food was so fragrant that it could be smelled to the edge of the earth, and it welcomed all life from the 4 corners thereof. The Vile Stench had long been forgotten, but it was still there, lingering in the darkness.

All kinds of people who had never seen each other before came, and they built their homes around the foot of Sleeping Giant.

And with their collective knowledge, they built a Kingdom and a Country. All seemed well, until finally, someone asked the Cook his name.

Oh. You assumed HE was King of this Castle? Well, you thought wrong. Well, the Cook ignored them or tried to. Finally, he spoke and said “They call me…I call myself the Wanderer.”

And they laughed and laughed. They laughed and laughed and laughed. It was absurd, as to their eyes, he had not wandered very far at all from the Kingdom.

The Wanderers' thoughts began to wander — and he wondered no longer and wandered very far.

He wandered for many nights. He wandered here. He wandered there. He wandered everywhere. He wandered and wondered why he was wandering — and finally, he wandered up to the backside of Sleeping Giant. He lit a strange bush on fire and went to sleep right away.

As it turns out, the bush was not a bush at all! It was the tuft of the tail of the Ogre, who had for all these years, been sleeping under a blanket of dirt and trees. The place which was his bed, was in fact, Sleeping Giant Mountain!

“What is this divine smell?” A loud booming voice called out.

“Ah. I see. Someone has set in front of me a delicious buffet!”

And so Ogre, awake from his ancient slumber, began feasting on the Kingdom and all it’s inhabitants!

“Stop! Stop!” Cried the Wanderer.

But Ogre did not stop.

Wanderer ran up Sleeping Giant with the speed of the haughty Dubdub bird. Jumping from tree to tree with all the alacrity of the proud Akak snake. Gliding down upon the nose of the Ogre with all the grace and poise of the mighty Wupwup Gibbon — and with the commanding and thunderous voice of the Ipip Frog, he spoke thusly, “Stop, or I will make you stop!”

The creature laughed and laughed. It laughed and laughed. Finally, it dried it’s tears and picked up Wanderer with it’s massive hand and spoke thusly, “If it were possible to stop, I would — But my hunger is unending. It will go on until I’ve devoured every thing there is to devour. So there is nothing you can do to stop me, thing.”

“Everything?” Wanderer responded.

“Yes. Though I may sleep, my hunger does not. I might as well just eat you now and get it over with,” Ogre said as he sat Wanderer upon his tongue.

“I don’t enjoy this any more than you do,” he said in a sad, sullen tone.

“Wait!” Cried Wanderer as he slid into Ogre’s mouth.

“I am the greatest cook in the land. There isn’t a belly in the 4 corners of the world that I could not fill!”

And Ogre laughed and laughed, coughing up Wanderer into his hand.

“You make me laugh, small thing. I sincerely doubt that you could fill my belly. My hunger has stretched across billions of years. It was there when the stars were born, and it will be there when they die.”

Ogre then placed Wanderer back onto his tongue.

“Stop! I am the greatest cook in all the land! Here. Try this!” And Wanderer pulled from his pouch a small circular Biscuit, and tossed it into the Ogres mouth.

“That was better than a rock, I guess,” the Ogre said.

Then Wanderer tossed in the Ogre’s mouth a fried meat.

“Oh! That’s amazing! So that must be that wonderful food that awakened me from my slumber.”

“Yes,” said the Wanderer. “And if you will allow, I will cook you the last thing you will ever eat.”

“I like this idea, Small Thing,” said the Ogre. “I will give you 3 days to prepare.”

And so, the Ogre set Small Thing down amongst his people, and went to bed.

The King was not pleased.

“Traitor! Guards! Seize this man and put him in the Stocks, so that he may never make us into Stock!”

The guards hemmed and hawed and clattered their spears and shields.

“Why this hesitation? I am your King! Do as I say or else you shall be added to the Stocks!”

And so they begrudgingly gathered up Small Thing, and placed him in the Stocks.

“Tonight! Make love to your Wives! Tomorrow! Eat drink and be merry, for the next day, we shall kill the Giant while he sleeps, or die trying!”

There was a great hoorah from the people. Many came to the Stocks to humiliate Small Thing. They called him a traitor. They spit on him and tossed rotten food at him.

On the first night, a woman dressed in rags gave Small Thing a bowl of Water.

“Some call you a traitor, but if it weren’t for you, we’d all be in that monster’s belly right now. So, why did you do it?”

Small Thing said nothing. Did nothing. The woman grew angry and tossed the bowl of water in Small Thing’s face.

On the second night, the woman came again. This time, bringing a bowl full of cherries.

“Is it true? Do you believe that you can fill it’s belly, when you can’t even fill your own?”

Small Thing said nothing. Did nothing. The woman cried, and then placed the bowl within Small Thing’s reach.

On the third night, the woman came again. This time, she brought a key, and freed Small Thing from the Stocks.

“Why? Why would you do this?” He said, with tears in his eyes.

The woman said nothing. Did nothing.

The woman left. Small Thing cried one last tear, and then he set up camp before the foot of Sleeping Giant.

The sun rose, as it always seems to do. It’s warmth awakened the Sleeping Giant, one last time.

“Where is this magnificent feast I was promised?” Ogre called out in his loud booming voice.

The Kingdom was empty. All it’s inhabitants, save for one Goat, had spread to the 4 corners of the earth.

Small Thing called out to the creature, “Down here! It’s the last thing you will ever eat!”

The Ogre looked down at the tiny man and his tiny pot over the fire. Then the Goat. Then, the man. The pot burbled and belched exotic and alluring odors indicative of the finest food ever to have existed.

Ogre lifted the tiny lid off the tiny pot and slurped the unctuous broth.

“Wow! This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted! What’s in it?” The Ogre said.

“Oh, you know. The last thing you will ever eat,” and as that was said, Wanderer lifted the Ogre’s tail out of the soup.

“I see…I’m delicious?”

And so, Ogre dipped his tail back into the pot . As time passed, Ogre ate so much of himself that he grew smaller and smaller, and the pot grew bigger and bigger until there was nothing left. Well, almost nothing.

It is said that a little bit of the Ogre remains in that pot. It has the power to transform rocks into dumplings, mud into risotto, and hunger into the greatest spice the world has ever known.

With this pot, the 4 corners were united once again, and it turned a Small Thing, into a Big Thing, but that’s a story for another time.

This Story first appeared on

Smillew

Rahcuef’s “The Pub,” under the Title “The Last Meal.” Published October 7th of 2024. It has since been edited numerous times. Not surprising, as this story first began 20 years ago as scribbles, notes, and drawings on old Sears Roebuck Receipts from when I was a Tools Salesman. The names of the animals are based off of the Jubjub Bird from Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky. If anyone would like to be an Illustrator for this story, hit me up in the DM’s. - Ken