never eaten any of The Giant's meals.
Startled, The Giant spun around, his knife stopping inches from Margie's face. He frowned when he saw her. "You made me jump!"
"What is that thing?" asked Margie, unable to take her eyes off the strange mutant beast.
"It ain't nothing for you to worry about!" replied The Giant, clearly tense. "I don't ask no questions when they bring 'em. Jus' do as I'm told."
Margie took the hint. "I need to show you something," she said dropping her sack on the ground.
"I ain't got no time," he muttered as he continued to hack away at the body. It was clear he had done this many times before. His great bulk moved effortlessly and within minutes there was barely anything left of the creature but a bucket full of viscera and a small wooden straw-lined crate filled with shiny red meat.
The Giant lifted up the bucket and in his haste nearly tripped over Margie's sack. As his foot caught the corner of the sack it opened, exposing its contents.
"You ain't allowed to touch those!" he yelled.
"Says who?" asked Margie.
"Auguste. He said it to my face. We ain't allowed to touch that stuff."
"Where is he then?" yelled Margie angrily. "I don't see him! Let him come and tell me to my face."
The Giant paced and muttered incoherently under his breath.
"Look," said Margie. "I have something I need to show you. It could be really important."
Margie lifted the rusting cog to her ear. It had given her the most clear and comprehensible message just moments earlier. "Look," she said. "I know this is going to sound really crazy, but it talks to me. Tells me things. Everything does; shoes, plates, toys."
The Giant kicked at some sawdust on the floor. "Looks like we got mice down here," he said absently. "Can't be doin' with no mice. Auguste wouldn't like that neither."
"Are you listening to me Giant? I just wish you could hear it too. Everything talks. It’s like they’re all tuned into radios and I have a receiver in my ear that lets me hear them. I don’t know what any of it means, but it’s true. You have to believe me."
The Giant stood still. Silent. Awkward.
"C’mon, c’mon," she urged the cog, "tell me something."
Margie held the cog out to The Giant. "This cog," she said, as though she was about to announce something amazing, "told me a code earlier; a load of numbers."
The Giant folded his arms.
"Really," protested Margie. " It meant something I just don’t know what."
Margie looked at the cog. "I don’t know why it’s not saying anything now. Let me try one of the others ..."
"Look Margie," said The Giant picking up the hoof of a cow, "this bit of beef is saying ... hang on ... it’s ... yup, it’s definitely saying Moo."
He threw the hoof over his shoulder.
Margie observed The Giant sadly. "You don’t believe me?"
"I ain't never said that. It's just ... you hold a bit of metal to your ear and tell me it’s talking. That's all I'm sayin'."
Without uttering another word Margie gathered together all the bits and bobs she'd collected and headed towards the door. She could understand The Giant’s reaction. She would be sceptical too. She had been initially. It didn't stop her from feeling angry and embarrassed though.
As Margie reached the door The Giant called out to her.
"Here," he said throwing his watch in her direction.
Margie barely caught it, dropping her bag in the process. It made a loud clatter as it hit the ground. The watch was heavy. Several pounds at least.
"What's it telling you?" asked The Giant.
Margie placed the watch to her ear and listened.
"I see a circus. I see lots of tents. I see lots of people. Strange people. People with deformed bodies. I see ugly people; people who can turn themselves inside out; a boy with the face of a dog; a lady with tattoos on her face; a troop of midgets ..."
Margie stopped and looked at The Giant with wide eyes. "I see you."
"How did you do that?" demanded The Giant. Margie had never seen him look so fierce.
"Your
Startled, The Giant spun around, his knife stopping inches from Margie's face. He frowned when he saw her. "You made me jump!"
"What is that thing?" asked Margie, unable to take her eyes off the strange mutant beast.
"It ain't nothing for you to worry about!" replied The Giant, clearly tense. "I don't ask no questions when they bring 'em. Jus' do as I'm told."
Margie took the hint. "I need to show you something," she said dropping her sack on the ground.
"I ain't got no time," he muttered as he continued to hack away at the body. It was clear he had done this many times before. His great bulk moved effortlessly and within minutes there was barely anything left of the creature but a bucket full of viscera and a small wooden straw-lined crate filled with shiny red meat.
The Giant lifted up the bucket and in his haste nearly tripped over Margie's sack. As his foot caught the corner of the sack it opened, exposing its contents.
"You ain't allowed to touch those!" he yelled.
"Says who?" asked Margie.
"Auguste. He said it to my face. We ain't allowed to touch that stuff."
"Where is he then?" yelled Margie angrily. "I don't see him! Let him come and tell me to my face."
The Giant paced and muttered incoherently under his breath.
"Look," said Margie. "I have something I need to show you. It could be really important."
Margie lifted the rusting cog to her ear. It had given her the most clear and comprehensible message just moments earlier. "Look," she said. "I know this is going to sound really crazy, but it talks to me. Tells me things. Everything does; shoes, plates, toys."
The Giant kicked at some sawdust on the floor. "Looks like we got mice down here," he said absently. "Can't be doin' with no mice. Auguste wouldn't like that neither."
"Are you listening to me Giant? I just wish you could hear it too. Everything talks. It’s like they’re all tuned into radios and I have a receiver in my ear that lets me hear them. I don’t know what any of it means, but it’s true. You have to believe me."
The Giant stood still. Silent. Awkward.
"C’mon, c’mon," she urged the cog, "tell me something."
Margie held the cog out to The Giant. "This cog," she said, as though she was about to announce something amazing, "told me a code earlier; a load of numbers."
The Giant folded his arms.
"Really," protested Margie. " It meant something I just don’t know what."
Margie looked at the cog. "I don’t know why it’s not saying anything now. Let me try one of the others ..."
"Look Margie," said The Giant picking up the hoof of a cow, "this bit of beef is saying ... hang on ... it’s ... yup, it’s definitely saying Moo."
He threw the hoof over his shoulder.
Margie observed The Giant sadly. "You don’t believe me?"
"I ain't never said that. It's just ... you hold a bit of metal to your ear and tell me it’s talking. That's all I'm sayin'."
Without uttering another word Margie gathered together all the bits and bobs she'd collected and headed towards the door. She could understand The Giant’s reaction. She would be sceptical too. She had been initially. It didn't stop her from feeling angry and embarrassed though.
As Margie reached the door The Giant called out to her.
"Here," he said throwing his watch in her direction.
Margie barely caught it, dropping her bag in the process. It made a loud clatter as it hit the ground. The watch was heavy. Several pounds at least.
"What's it telling you?" asked The Giant.
Margie placed the watch to her ear and listened.
"I see a circus. I see lots of tents. I see lots of people. Strange people. People with deformed bodies. I see ugly people; people who can turn themselves inside out; a boy with the face of a dog; a lady with tattoos on her face; a troop of midgets ..."
Margie stopped and looked at The Giant with wide eyes. "I see you."
"How did you do that?" demanded The Giant. Margie had never seen him look so fierce.
"Your
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