Four lines of prose about: the giant.
Just one day left in 2011. It's been a pretty busy year, to say the least.
The giant surveyed the land below him, craning his neck to peer around a cloud as he used a redwood held between his thumb and index finger to excavate the remains of his lunch from between his teeth. It hadn't been a particularly satisfying meal, but he was hopeful that the next herd of cows he encountered was of a more reasonable size.
At length he spotted what he was searching for and bent his knees to begin the long descent down to ground level. Grasping the circus tents in both hands, he couldn't help thinking that there really had to be a more efficient way to gather toilet paper.