An Alaskan fighter sticks his stubby bleeding neck out of the mucky, gucky ice.

“Gluglugluglu!”

He wobbles his flabbly skin, the goose-pimpled chicken wings hanging off his pot belly, piano-wire hairly legs, and vein-popping arms.

“Who in these asphalt and tar mountains is the grouchiest grouch of all?” Get out me way!”

He whacks his head against a spiky tree, thorns sticking on his eyeballs, and the tree falls over, defeated by the grinning giant’s horrendous ggrowwwl!

Dragging the tree between his earth-shattering legs, he stomps up to a convenience store, knocks down the door with a big swing of his butt.

The storekeeper had already tasted in the rotten air his super-mixture skunk and expired fish egg.

“Come, come, come, come, come, come, come!” the merchant hollered so loudly a bird died in the bush.

The two giants placed their flat bodies against each other and hugged so tightly one of them exploded into six million pieces of flesh. The other ate him and had a barfing-good meal. Yum.