When the giants dined out (as giants often do – it’s remarkable how quickly they run through even the food stored in their twenty-foot stone refrigerators) they preferred to go to the beach.
“Baked, seasoned meals,” they would chortle as they crouched at the edges of the sand like mossy boulders, awaiting their food.
In front of them, the blissfully ignorant vacationers lay tanning their skins golden brown, or swam and splashed in the salty water.
“And best of all, no work. The meals prepare themselves.”
Thanks to the Cayman beaches, the salty ocean, and the very brown tanners for inspiration.