Not-So-Straight Fairy Tales

Beebo and The Beanstalk

Characters:

Jack – Brendon Urie
The giant – Dallon Weekes
Jack's mother – It was originally Spencer, but I accidentally gave him a Yorkshire accent so now it's Sean Bean
The cow – Bogart

"Brendon! Be a lad and take this dog to market," Brendon's father called.
"But why?" Brendon asked.
"'Cause we're sellin' 'im. I've spent too much money on that bloomin' dog an' I've 'ad enough."
"But why?" Brendon asked. His lower lip, stuck out in a pout, began to tremble.
"Blimmin' 'eck, not now. Just take the bloody thing to market," said his father wearily, knowing the inevitable was coming, but unable to ward it off. Brendon's face grew red, angry tears filled his eyes and his pout became even more pronounced.
"No!" he finally shouted. "No, I don't want to. Bogart's my only friend!"
But his father had had enough too. "Go to your room! I've 'ad it up to 'ere with your muckin' about!"

Brendon stomped upstairs and sat in front of his window, sulking. He really hated his father sometimes. He leant forward and squinted into the garden. What was that? Something ... small and glittering. Ugh. He paid it no heed, still seething.

In the morning, however, Brendon did not find it quite so easy to ignore. It had grown into an enormous plant stem, pink and sparkling in the morning sun. He could easily reach it from his room so, rather recklessly, he clambered out of his window and jumped onto a broad lead, gazing into the clouds that the stem seemed to lead up to. He glanced back at the house for a second, then shrugged and began to climb.

Eventually, after two long hours of climbing, Brendon reached the last leaf and peered around curiously. He was surrounded by fluffy clouds in all directions, except for directly in front of him, where instead there was a door impossibly metres high and a colossal wall, so tall that he couldn't see where it ended. Once again, he shrugged (always an indicator that he was about to do something reckless) and stepped through a crack in the wooden door – and stopped and gaped. Somehow, he had not managed to be impressed by a single thing so far: not the scale of the wall; not the clouds that looked thick enough to support his weight; not even the plant that was most definitely not normal. Now, however, he was awestruck. Not because of the immense yet ornate furniture, but due to the food on the gigantic table. He dashed over to it and, without a second thought towards his unaware host or good manners, tucked in.
Little did he realise, he was being watched.

Once he had eaten his fill (which would normally have seemed enough to be greedy – he was a growing boy, after all! – but barely scratched the surface of all the food), Brendon decided to explore a bit. These plans were instantly shattered, however, when he turned around to come face to face – or rather face to shin – with, well, what could only be described as a giant.

Brendon was initially shocked, but soon got ahold of himself. "Really? You're, what, fifty feet tall and could easily step on me, and yet you don't try and scare me at all? Where are all the 'fee, fie, foe, fum's you're meant to do? What kind of a giant are you?" he sassed.
The giant looked rather taken aback by the torrent of words that came bursting out of Brendon, and stammered a little before replying, "I wanted to see who was brave enough to enter my castle,"
"Who was brave enough? What do you mean, 'who was brave enough'?"
The giant seemed to have got over his shock as he said "What I mean, little man- ", but got no further than that thanks to Brendon.
"Little man!" he screeched, voice as loud as a siren, "how very dare you!"
The giant laughed, a loud, rumbling laugh that made Brendon's legs tremble. "I'm Dallon," he said. He stuck a finger out for Brendon to shake.
Brendon reciprocated the action and introduced himself, gripping the finger that was as long as his forearm tightly. "Nice to meet you,"
"And you. Want a tour?"
Brendon nodded in assent, and Dallon lifted him onto his shoulder, as that was the only way he would be able to see anything, let alone keep up.

Once Dallon had finished showing Brendon around the castle, he offered him a cup of coffee and some cake – "not that you'll have room for any after all that food you ate," he chuckled. Brendon stuck his tongue out childishly.

A sudden thought occurred to him whilst he was drinking coffee out of a thimble (the smallest thing Dallon could find for him, although it was still about the size of a bucket to Brendon). "You know what you said earlier?" he began.
"When?" Dallon replied, for they had chatted more than they had toured whilst they were looking around the castle.
"When we first spoke. You said about seeing who was brave enough to come and see you,"
Dallon looked immensely sad all of a sudden. "Uh, well ..." Brendon lay a hand on his cheek comfortingly. Dallon looked gratified. "Nobody really likes me. They either are scared or angry. When I was younger and not quite as tall, I had some friends – some human friends – that I played frisbee with everyday. I was smaller, but that didn't mean I wasn't stronger than I knew I was and one day, I threw the frisbee too hard and it hit one of the boys in the head,"
"And?" Brendon frowned, not quite seeing his point.
"The boy died. The villagers didn't want me living there anymore, where I could hurt them, which is why I moved to the sky. No hurting anyone if you can't see them – and they can't see you,"
He looked on the verge of tears. Brendon said, "That's silly. It was just an accident. I'd still want you there." Dallon did now start to cry. Brendon looked affronted. "Well, excuse me for trying!" he said, although not unkindly.
Dallon snorted. "I'm just happy. Thank you, Brendon, for being my friend,"
Brendon glowed pinkly. "No problemo." he said, and kissed Dallon's cheek. Dallon went red.

This has been sweaterpaws-awsten (Kitwit)