Tattoo Belly Whacks Off Heads

Tattoo Belly is coming, the army whispered, clearly disturbed by the idea Yet excited too, for we had heard how many heads he loped off in the last war. I looked for my trust squire. Her face was as long as her name, Potawatameah Can you do anything about him? I mouthed. She bit her apple to the core. Chewed rapidly, but did not commit in front of the well-armed others. I watched her spit out the seeds, and then she took off in an elongated run. I knew she was pondering whether or not to return with her brothers. If they came back with her, this devilish monster ogre would not have as much fun. Do you think she can help? Another quivering, scared-looking young recruit asked me. A loud roar happened at the front, and we heard it way down on this side of the line. Not sure yet, I responded. Calm down, young buck, let us just wait and see. Then Tattoo Belly came over the hill carrying a jagged sword, all terrible and fine. I nearly swallowed my dentures, he was a sight that turned my blood instantly cold. I figured it is because this is my seventy-second year, and I am getting kind of stiff and old. Heads started flying this way and that, flicked off by the edge of his terrible blade. When another roar happened, from deep within the dark verdant green glade. The earth began shaking, as if elephants were stampeding closely to the battle. I heard a roar that sounded like it came from the disengaged head of some cattle. Potawatameah came racing over the hill with her brothers, giants with pure ferocity. One picked up Tattoo Belly, and ate him in one gulp, and boy, did his army flee!