The Tale of Old Sir Placid.

So King Narcolepsy sent for Duke Magnate, a Mountain of a man whose several-sizes-to large armor made him look like an inhuman giant. His strength was legendary, and it was reported that he once lifted a boulder the size of his warhorse. Duke Magnate was charged with a new task: to find the Evil Paradox, challenge him to a duel, slay him and bring back his head. So Duke Magnate rode to the Evil Paradox’s castle, through the coldest winters and the hottest summers, and arrived at Paradox’s fortress. “Paradox!” Magnate shouted up. “Come down here and we shall have a duel to see who is the stronger!” Paradox leaned out of a window high above the Duke’s head. He let loose another bone-chilling cackle, raised his arms, and a bolt of green light spiraled down to hit Duke Magnate in his head. On the day after Duke Magnate left, a large pigeon landed on King Narcolepsy’s windowsill. It dropped something barely an inch tall on the sill, and vanished in a puff of evil-looking green smoke, leaving a foul odor. King Narcolepsy strode over to the sill and peered down. There stood Duke Magnate, in miniature. He shouted something in his squeaky little-person voice. King Narcolepsy sat down heavily and said, “Send for the next one.”