The Rigby Narratives:
The Ultimate TG Experience
by
McKenzie Rigby

as told to
Andy Hollis and Jaye Michael

 

Chapter Nineteen -- McKenzie, the Giant Killer

 

Once upon a time, little Jack Rigby skipped along the path that led from his mother's small cottage, to the village. He stopped skipping long enough to collect the family's old cow, Betsy. He tied a long rope around the cow's neck and led her out of the pasture.

Old Betsy, no matter how hard Jack tried, refused to skip. In fact, she refused to do anything but plod along much as an old cow would. She did pause every now and again to nibble at grass along the way, and to fertilize the path.

Over hills, through dales and down into the valley, Jack lead his faithful cow. He tried hard not to think of the terrible fate that awaited Old Betsy at journey's end. He had grown up with Betsy as almost a member of the family, and the thought of selling her at the fair was hard on the lad. After all those years of service, and gallons of milk given, it was even harder for Jack to think of Betsy going to a butcher, or to some fast food chain for hamburgers.

"Where are you going, my fine lad?" a man, in brightly colored clothing asked as Jack crested the top of another hill. "I am Tom Busch."

"To sell my cow, Old Betsy, at the fair," Jack answered politely, and openly in the way small boys do, especially those that are sent out on their own without their mothers.

"And what are you going to do with the money you get for Old Betsy?" asked the man, remembering himself what it was like to be a small boy out alone, without his mother.

"Why I am going to buy a new cow-a young cow to take Old Betsy's place. I will call her Betsy, until she gets old," Jack said, solemnly.

"An excellent plan, my little man, have a good day at the fair."

Little Jack stared at the man, and frowned. "Aren't you going to offer me something in trade for old Betsy?"

"Sorry, my lad, but I have nothing to trade for Old Betsy, and I make it a point never to trade with little boys, either. The last time I did, I was sued by his mother for everything I owned."

"Oh, I'm sorry, mister. Would you like some milk?" Jack asked.

"Why thank you very much, my lad."

Jack asked Old Betsy for a little more milk for the man who had nothing, and the cow gave him a drink. "There, we had better get on to the fair."

"Go on, with my blessing, and here," he said reaching inside his tunic for a small bag. "To repay your generosity, have these. They are magic beans. Plant them at Midnight on the night of the full moon and you will get a surprise beyond compare. But remember, never tell the recipe to anyone, not even your dog."

"Thank you," Jack said and tucked the beans inside his shirt. "But I don't have a dog, just this cow."

"Just as well, lying deceitful creatures, dogs."

Little Jack walked on, whistling instead of skipping since he now had the beans and the cow.

A little while later, on the outskirts of the village, Jack met an even stranger individual. This one, who looked like a six-foot tall, two legged fox, walked up to him.

"I say, my good fellow, you wouldn't have seen anything of a boy made of wood, have you?"

Jack shook his head. "I've only seen a man who had nothing but magic beans. Do you have anything to trade for Old Betsy here?"

"I may be a carnivore, young man, but I have better things to do with my time than take care of a cow. I…" The fox turned in disgust as a little wooden boy ran right by them. "Now look what you made me do. I've been waiting for that puppet for ages. Here," he said and reached into his shirt for a large bag. "Take this for your trouble, boy, and good luck."

Jack looked inside the bag and made a face. "What are they?"

"Magic cow patties. Plant them at Midnight on the first night of the Full Moon and you will get an outstanding surprise. Go on with you, now." The fox ran after the little wooden boy. "Hey, Pinnochio, over here."

Jack thought better of putting this bag in his shirt, and tossed it aside. He led Old Betsy right to the center of the village.

"Moo."

Jack turned around to see a long line of cows, both young and old following him and Old Betsy. Thinking ahead, something that only fairy tale boys do, Jack walked down the line of cows, selected the best looking bull, and cow, then tied them to Old Betsy. He sold the rest of the herd for a huge bag of gold, and walked his three animals back toward his mother's cottage.

"I bet with this much gold we could move to a de-lux apartment in the sky," he said to Old Betsy. The cow shook her head, as old cows do, and followed behind the boy who was trudging now under the weight of all the gold.

Jack's mother, Beatrice Rigby, stood outside the cottage waiting for her son to come home. Imagine her surprise when she saw that the boy had come home with three cows, and a huge bag.

"Look, Mama, I've got gold and lots of it," Jack said and opened the bag for his mother's inspection.

"Bah, worthless stuff, gold. What were you thinking?"

"I thought we could move to the hills of Beverly with movie stars and swimming pools, and TV's and computers and name brand clothes."

"Greedy brat. Did you at least get the magic beans?"

"Yes, mother," Jack said, and quickly handed over the bag. "The man said to plant them at midnight on the night of the full moon. The fox that gave me the magic cow patties said the first night, but this guy didn't get specific."

"Go inside, boy. Your gruel is almost done."

Jack looked longingly at the bag of gold that his mother tossed aside. "Mother, may I buy my own fast food restaurant?"

"Of course not, boy. We're in the middle of a fairy tale not the Wall Street Journal. Go inside."

"Stupid fairies," Jack muttered as he wandered inside to get his gruel.

At eleven-fifty on the first night of the full moon, Jack leaned on the windowsill staring up into the starry night sky. The moon hung above the cottage like a big pizza pie, and a hush seemed to fall all over the world.

There, he saw the little star burning bright blue. The wishing star, he thought. "Little star, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight."

A comet seemed to break off from the star and traveled in a direct line from the star to Jack's window. A large and lovely lady, dressed all in blue, appeared at the window. She floated inside, waving what appeared to be a magic wand.

"There you are, my dearest boy, soon you will have your heart's desire and be a real boy."

Jack looked down at himself. "I am a real boy, lady, what are you talking about?"

The blue fairy blinked a few times. "You are not Pinnochio, where does the woodcutter live?"

"Oh, you want the wood boy. Two cottages down that way. But do I get my wish?"

The fairy tapped Jack on the top of his tousled head. "You, too, will have your heart's desire, Little Jack."

He looked across the way, and stared up at the fairy. "Where is it? I want my own all night fast food restaurant."

She laughed, with a sound of silver bells tinkling. "Silly boy, this is a fairy tale, not the Wall Street Journal." With that, she vanished, in search of the wood boy.

"Stupid fairy," Jack muttered as his mother emerged from her bedroom still wearing a nightdress and nightcap.

A two legged mouse, along with a two legged dog and a duck walked up to Jack. "Say, Jack," said the mouse with a high-pitched laugh. "Have you planted those magic beans yet?"

Jack shook his head, and whispered into the mouse's ear. "Not in front of the d-o-g, you know. Lying, deceitful creatures, dogs."

"Oh, I didn't know that," the mouse said and studied his companion as if for the first time. He laughed again.

"We'll just be going."

Once the interlopers had gone, Jack followed his mother outside. He knelt down in the garden, dug a hole with his little spade, and waited until his new designer watch, with built in PDA beeped midnight. Jack's mother dropped the beans, one by one, into the hole, and Jack covered them up.

As his mother returned to her bedroom, Jack stared up into the night sky. "This isn't my heart's desire, you stupid fairies. I want food, real food, meats and lots of dairy products, I'm a growing boy here."

"Hush, Jack," his mother called out. "Worthless stuff, meat. If gruel every day was good enough for your father and his father before him, it's good enough for you."

"Yes, mother," Jack said with a sigh, and cuddled down in bed for the rest of the night.

Imagine Jack's surprise, the next morning, when he walked outside to find a beanstalk growing miles into the morning sky. He stared up and up and up and couldn't see the end of it. "I'd better go milk the cows and tend to the farm," Jack said to the morning sky. "Before my mom sees that and makes me climb it."

"Hold it right there, sonny boy, and where do you think you're going?" his mother said from behind.

"To milk and feed the cows, and tend the farm, Mother."

"That can wait. First you need to climb this beanstalk and bring back any magical treasures you find."

"What if there's this huge ogre up there that wants to grind my bones to make his bread?" Jack countered.

"Then you will just have to outwit him, and steal his treasures anyway. How hard can it be for a bright kid like you to outwit an ogre? Move it."

"But I'll be days and days. Okay, I'm going, I'm going," Jack grumbled as he started to climb the beanstalk.

As soon as he had taken his first couple of pulls up the thick trunk, Jack found the trunk moving upward. He held on, riding the trunk of the huge vine as the beanstalk grew taller.

After a while, he could see clouds over his head. Soon enough, the beanstalk grew right through the clouds, and stopped. "Everyone off!" a voice rustled through the leaves. "This stop for giants, trolls and ogres."

"What about magical treasures?" Jack asked the voice of the beanstalk.

"Get real, kiddo, there aren't any. You should have bought yourself a chain of fast food restaurants with that gold while you had the chance."

"Stupid fairies," Jack yelled out as he dropped off the beanstalk and landed on solid ground, even though it was covered in rolling clouds. He waded through the clouds for a bit, and there, in the distance, he saw a shimmering palace just waiting for a bright little boy like him to enter and search for magical treasures.

As Jack walked closer to the building he could see that it was, indeed, a huge palace painted a brilliant white from the columns that decorated the front entrance, to the white shades covering the windows. The entire structure seemed huge, as if designed for people twenty times his size.

Jack struggled to climb up the steps to the front door, which stood open as if to further invite him inside. As he passed through the door he halfway expected to see a sign pointing him in the right direction, but no such luck.

Thunderous booms could be heard from outside. Startled, Jack ducked for cover in a huge coat closet, hiding underneath a huge coat. Soon, a little man, hardly bigger than Jack himself boomed into the hallway. The little man was wearing oversized cowboy boots and a twenty gallon white hat that was way too big for his head.

"Fee Feye Fo Foy, I smell the blood of a fairy tale boy," the little man said in a voice that rumbled through the halls.

"So?" Jack said, and stepped out of the closet. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, I'm George the Giant, from Texas, but my friends call me Dubya."

"You're a giant?" Jack asked, then broke out laughing.

"That's cause I look so big on TV. I've been out hunting terrorists in the Kingdoms of Passaic, Piscataway and Patuxent. Did the I's last week and next week I'll be invading the Kingdoms of Ohio, Omaha and Oklahoma where the wind comes whistling down the plain. Them terrorists is tricky birds and you never know where they will turn up next."

"What do you do with the terrorists when you catch them?" Jack asked.

"I turn them into harmless things, things I can use around the house. Would you like to see my new Osama bin Ladle?"

"No, my mother sent me here to get some magical treasures since she didn't want me to buy that chain of fast food restaurants with the gold I earned yesterday."

"Oh, right, you're that kid. Go on, there's got to be a few around here somewhere. If you can find them, you can take them."

"Thanks, Mr. George." Little Jack skipped down the hallway and wandered into the first open room he found.

A tall, balding man stood up from an overstuffed chair and Jack entered the room. "Well, hello little boy. I'm Vice-Giant Bruce, and I just love little boys."

"This isn't that kind of a fairy story, mister. Get out of here." Jack commanded.

The man vanished, and in his place stood another tall, and-this time-rather distinguished looking gentleman. "You found me. I am Vice-Giant Don, and that was my undisclosed location."

"Sorry, Mr. Don. Have you seen any magical treasures around here."

"Just down the hall to your right should be a few. Good luck." With that, Vice-Giant Don turned into a smallish, and rather plump lady. She patted her hair into place. "Don't tell anyone where I am."

"Uh, okay Ms. Dawn." Jack turned and left the room.

Following the corridor a little further, he heard a harsh male voice singing out of tune. "We can still win the war, the great Satan will be no more. We can still win the war, the great Satan will be no more, rah rah."

Jack peeked inside the room and saw a harp, made out of gold, apparently playing and singing by itself. In fact, he could see a little face on the pedestal of the harp; complete with a big bushy mustache that was doing the singing.

"A magical treasure," Jack said. "I'm Jack, the little boy who will rescue you from the awful palace. I'm going to take you home with me."

"I am Sadone Harpstring," the instrument sang out. "I sing of a time when I was once a great ruler, Emperor of all I surveyed, until the giants came and took away my land, and my precious Ku-wait."

"Ku-wait?"

"Yes, my hen that laid the golden eggs. The first George the Giant took Ku-wait away from me, and his son, the second George the Giant came and took everything else. He said that I was a terrorist; can you believe that?

Lying, deceitful creatures, giants."

"I thought that was dogs," Jack answered.

"Them, too. If you really can rescue me from this horrible White Palace, please do not forget my darling Ku-wait."

"I'll go find her and I will be right back," Jack said.

Now where would he find a hen in a palace this size, Jack wondered as he started walking. Usually people kept hens in henhouses outside, but would George keep a valuable golden egg laying hen outside where a fox could get it, that is if there were foxes up on this cloud, or maybe there would be thieves, not little boys who have to find magical treasures for their mothers, but real ugly big thieves that would roast the hen. Wow, he thought, that was a long sentence, but he shrugged it off, as little boys who never have studied grammar are wont to do.

"Hey, are you Jack?"

Jack turned around and spotted a face in a mirror hanging up on the wall.

"That's me. Have you seen Ku-wait, the hen?"

"No, but the giant is looking for you. You'd better hide or be eaten as an afternoon snack."

"But George is such a little giant. I bet I could beat him up."

"Not George, his big big big big brother, Jeb."

"Fee Fi Fo Foy, I'm looking for a lost little boy," boomed a voice that actually sounded gigantic.

A panel clicked open beside the mirror. Jack ducked through it, and pushed the panel closed before the real giant could find him.

Lights flickered on to show Jack a large dressing room. A girl's dressing room, he thought from the dresses and things hanging in the open wardrobe, and the thousands of brushes, hand mirrors and jars that lined the gold trimmed, white French provincial vanity.

"Over here," said a voice from the vanity. It was male, but…

Jack walked over and picked up a glowing magic mirror.

"Hey, Jack, I've got just the thing for you to hide you from the giant, too. I'm going to make you-fabulous!"

"Fabulous? Me? Why?"

"Jeb the Giant is looking for a dorky little boy, not a vision of loveliness that I will create. You can take your magical treasures and waltz out of here and neither giant will be the wiser. Any more smart-ass questions? Good, didn't think so. Now, sit down and hush up."

"Yes, sir-madam-sir," Jack whined, but still he sat down in front of the mirror. Instantly the brush and comb floated up and tackled his hair. With each stroke of the brush, Jack's hair grew longer; the combing made it more luxurious and shining. Soon enough spritz bottles spritzed, and bottles of lotion, splatted all over Jack's hair.

Creams applied themselves to Jack's face, while tweezers plucked at the boy's eyebrows. With a touch of lipstick, and blush, the chair moved back. Jack stared at the mirror in disbelief. There, indeed, sat a vision of loveliness, from his golden blonde tresses down to his gorgeous face and bright blue eyes.

"I look like a girl!" Jack shouted.

"Well, duh, sweetheart. You are a girl. Stand up."

Jack stood up as invisible hands pulled his clothes off. A long, light blue dress, flew over from the wardrobe, and boyish undergarments were replaced with feminine frills. Jack lifted up his arms as the dress settled down over his head and on his shoulders.

"Fabulous!" the voice cried out in elation.

Jack shook his head. "For a girl, but I'm a boy."

"If you stay a boy you won't live to see another day, Jacki. This way, you can go home to your mother."

"But how do I change back?"

"Take the clothes with you, doll. They were made just for you, and the make up and the brushes and combs. You will need them in your new life."

A small pink overnight case flew over to the vanity as all the articles packed themselves inside. A moment later, the mirror shrank down to fit as well. Jacki sighed as she picked up the case, and walked back out into the hallway.

A man, twenty feet tall if he was an inch, stood in the hallway moving his head this way and that. "Say, little girl, have you seen a dorky little boy named Jack?"

"No, why, Mr. Giant, sir. Should I give him a message if I do see him?"

"Tell him that Jeb the Giant is looking for him. That's the dear."

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Giant, sir, have you seen Ku-wait the hen?"

"Oh, sure. Going to feed her, are you? Go down that hallway there to the end, turn left then count five doors down on the right to the indoor henhouse. Whatever you do, don't let the fox in."

Jacki followed directions, and it was hard to miss the right door since the six foot tall, two legged fox stood outside it. Wearing the same brightly colored clothes as the day before, the fox gave the little girl a huge grin.

"Well, what a lovely little lady you are, sweetie. What's your name?"

"Jacki," she said with a frown. "Look, I know you're the fox, and that you're trying to get into that henhouse. It's not going to happen, so back off."

"Big talk from such a little lady."

"Go chase wooden boys," Jacki said. As the fox sputtered in surprise, she slipped through the door and slammed it on his face.

Inside, Jacki found a large, white, two legged rabbit, standing in the middle of a dozen nests, each nest held a hen, and each hen looked identical to the next, the same white feathers, and yellow legs and feet.

"Hello, Mr. Rabbit, I'm looking for Ku-wait the hen," Jacki said.

"That's very nice, little girl, but I'm the Easter Bunny, and I'm waiting for my eggs. If these hens have names, I didn't know it. Ku-wait?"

None of the hens responded to the name. Each of them clucked and strained and produced a multicolored egg for Easter. Except one, Jacki noted, and walked over to the hen that laid the golden egg. He watched as the hen moved aside. A geyser of black liquid bubbled up from the egg. "Ku-wait," the girl said and named the hen. He picked the bird up and carried her back to the room with Sadone the harp.

The Easter Bunny picked up the odd egg, and made a face. What little kid would want just a plain gold egg-one that spewed out black junk?

"Ku-wait, my precious Ku-wait," the harp sang out as Jacki walked into the room still carrying the bird.

With the best wishes of the Giant brothers, little Jacki left the castle with her hen and harp, and rode the beanstalk back down to ground level.

"Jack? Jacki?" Jacki's Mom asked, stunned at the sight of her new little girl.

Jacki handed over the hen and the harp then opened her carrying case. She took the mirror out. "Okay, mirror. I'm out of the castle, turn me back to me, please."

"I can't do it," the mirror said. "I can't unmake perfection, little lady. You are fabulous, as I promised, learn to love it!"

And she did. Jacki used the golden eggs to buy her own franchised fast food chain, because she knew that she would grow up to be a beautiful and respected CEO, and that people would really listen to her ideas and opinions even though she was a girl. After all, anything can happen in a fairy tale.

-=-=-=-=-

Interlude Nineteen

 

Igor growled as McKenzie sent his latest story to the web. The man looked down at the dog. "What? Oh, I know I was a bit curt with dogs in that story but it had nothing to do with you. Really."

Growling some more, Igor turned his back on McKenzie and left the room.

"Lying, deceitful creatures, dogs," McKenzie muttered and shook his head. "The cat will be his friend. She'll purr and sit in my lap, unlike that fickle dog, Igor," McKenzie thought.

Standing and stretching, McKenzie absently rubbed at the dull pain in the area of his chest and left arm as he looked for Amen-whatzits. McKenzie found the cat curled up on the ledge just below the awning window almost five feet above the couch.

"How the hell did you get up there, cat?" Igor more actively ignored McKenzie, if that was possible.

"Come-ere fur ball. Come to Poppa McKenzie and get yourself some good rubbin'," McKenzie cajoled, but the cat, unsurprisingly, ignored him.

"Just like a cat," McKenzie groused. "Make me come to you."

Turning to Igor, McKenzie made one last offer. "How about it Igor? Last chance to make up and be friends again before I make Amen-cat-zits my new best friend?"

Igor offered a low growl in response and turned away.

"Sheesh! Okay cat, you're my new best friend-at least for today. Let's get you down from that perch and start the purr motor going." With that, McKenzie climbed onto the couch and reached up to get the cat, while it watched McKenzie's actions impassively. Then, just as McKenzie climbed onto the back of the sofa, balancing precariously as he moved within inches of the furred feline, it hissed and lashed out with extended claws.

Yanking back his hand was justifiable, but very much the wrong thing to do. Over balancing, McKenzie fell backward. He managed to get one foot back enough to bounce on the couch seat cushion, but it was not enough to recover and he continued to fall backward, although now his trajectory sent him even further into the room and he sailed almost to the kitchen table before hitting the carpeted floor hard.

Amazingly, McKenzie managed to avoid breaking anything, but the wind was knocked from his lungs and it took a minute to recover. Additionally, McKenzie realized he was going to have some major bruises and probably be walking very slowly for the next several days. When he did, McKenzie looked up from his position on the floor to see the cat, still on the window ledge, nonchalantly washing itself.

"What the hell is your problem cat? You don't want to get picked up, tell me. Igor does, you can too."

McKenzie looked at Igor for support only to see the dog laughing at him.

"Screw you too, dog! This can quickly become a pet free zone. And you too cat. You want back out on the street, just say so. Geez! What the hell does a man have to do to get a little friendship? You'd think I was asking you two to be friends, or mate, or something really weird. I…I…"

McKenzie had been working up to a really good snit when he was interrupted. With a confused look on his face, McKenzie felt a sharp pain in his chest. Knowing that he had not hurt himself there-almost everywhere else, but not there-McKenzie looked down as if waiting to see a knife suddenly sticking out of his chest. Nothing was there, but the pain was getting worse-and he was having trouble breathing. Then he started to get dizzy. When he slumped to the ground moments later, it was anyone's guess whether he had passed out from the pain or the lack of oxygen.

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWENTY
Tempus Fudges