Free In a Glass Grimmly by Adam Gidwitz Page A

her. She picked it up and began pouring it over her open mouth. But, Jack noticed, most of the porridge did not go into her mouth. In fact, none of it did. She seemed to be licking it up with her tongue, but as Jack watched he saw that she was actually pushing it out onto her face. From there, it slid, hot and terrible smelling, down her neck and into the ratty brown blanket. She slammed her plate down like the rest of them and started again.
    Jill poured another plateful over her face and down her shirt. Around the table, giants gobbled the revolting stuff down. Only Brod seemed to be enjoying it.
    Slam!
More porridge pouring down the giants’ gullets, more porridge sliding down Jill’s neck.
    Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
The porridge was now visibly collecting in the brown blanket, hanging over Jill’s belt in what looked for all the world like a jiggling belly.
    Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
    Jill smiled as she poured more of the sickening glop over her face and down her neck. The giants, on the other hand, started to look ill.
    Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
    Twenty servings in, Bucky had begun to slow down.
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
After twenty-four, he looked positively green.
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
After twenty-eight, Bucky turned and threw up all over the floor. The smooth, velvety vomit spread over the flagstones. Its odor suffused the hall and made Jack gag.
    “Bucky is out!” cried Meas. The other giants let out a muffled cheer and continued pouring the sludge-like porridge down their throats.
    Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
    After forty helpings, two giants turned and threw up at exactly the same time, their chunky vomit mingling on the floor. “Goleor and Barraoicht are out!” Meas bellowed.
    Bucky was staring at Jill. “How is she still eating?” he asked. But no one was listening.
    Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
Slam!
    Now giants were throwing up all over the place. Chunks, globs, nuggets of bloody, fatty vomit coated the flagstones, the table legs, the giants’ legs.
    “Leithleach out!” Meas bellowed. “Feall out!” “Aitheantas out!” One by one, each giant erupted like a volcano of half-digested pink meat and gray porridge.
    The upchuck began collecting in a large pool under the table, and then began to spread out over the floor, like some gooey, primordial lake. The giants were slouching in their chairs, covered with silky brown sludge, groaning. But Jill kept pouring the porridge over her face and letting it slide down her neck. Brod was still eating, too. But he had begun to slow.
    Slam . . . Slam . . .
    Slam . . .
    Wobble . . .
    Brod stopped with a plate full of porridge in front of him.
    “Brod?” Meas asked. All the giants leaned forward and looked at the enormous slab of meat known as Brod.
    “Uhhhhghhh.”
    “Do you give up, Brod?” Meas wanted to know.
    “Uhhhhghhh,” said Brod.
    “Well?”
    Brod threw up all over the table.
    “Jill is the winner!” announced Meas.
    Jill stood up triumphantly. Jack cheered his head off. The frog did little fist pumps in Jack’s pocket.
    The giants stared at Jill. The blanket had stretched out into the largest stomach any of them had ever seen. Even bigger than Brod’s. It hung down over her belt, all wobbly and gelatinous.
    And then, the silence was cut with the word “Cheat!”
    Bucky was pointing at her, his face red. “She’s a cheat!”
    Aitheantas glared at her. “I believe she is,” he said.
    “She didn’t eat that porridge!” said Bucky. “She couldn’t have.”
    “I don’t believe she could,” said Aitheantas. Brod threw up on the table again.
    “You don’t believe me?” Jill cried. “You dare question me?” Her voice was fierce, frightening. “I will show you the food in my belly, if you will show me the food in yours.”
    “Mine’s mostly on the table,” said Brod.
    “I