Jacques pointed a trembling finger. “They took my harvest! And they mock my sheep!”
“A giant of my stature,” Ganderel honked to the frogs, “should not wade in filth. I shall seek my fortune.”
But news of the giant goose spread. The king of the land heard tales of a feathered giant in fine boots who defeated bandits. And the king had a problem of his own: his daughter, the princess, had been cursed by a spiteful fairy to sleep forever inside the thorny tower of Castle Rocherouge, surrounded by a lake of boiling mud. No knight had returned alive. giant goose puss in boots
The next morning, Ganderel admired himself in a pond. “Magnificent,” he whispered.
The king wept with joy. He offered the goose a golden trough and the promised corn. The princess, who turned out to be a practical young woman, asked only one thing: “May I keep the goose?” Jacques pointed a trembling finger
The bandits laughed—until Ganderel spread his wings. Each wing spanned the length of a small boat. He charged, honking a war cry that shook the leaves from the trees. With one mighty sweep of his neck, he sent three bandits tumbling into the pig trough. With a single stomp of a booted foot, he flattened their stolen cart of corn.
Ganderel marched toward Castle Rocherouge. The boiling mud lake hissed and bubbled, dissolving anything that touched it. But Ganderel simply stepped onto the surface. His giant webbed feet, snug inside the waterproof boots, spread wide and distributed his weight like a snowshoe. He paddled across the mud as if it were a peaceful pond. I shall seek my fortune
From the back of the hall, a loud HONK echoed. Ganderel waddled forward in his gleaming boots.
