Blind Giraffe had always loved green Earth with its high, dense mountains, while in search of a genie. Also, it was a place where he felt fuzzy.
He was a courageous, down to Earth, tea drinker with greasy lips and hairy shoulders. Moreover, his friends saw him as a gleaming, gigantic giant. Once, he had even helped a sparkling Genie get out of his lamp. That’s the sort of man he was.
Giraffe walked over to the end of the road and reflected on his cozy surroundings. Meanwhile, the moon glowed like chatting rabbits.
Then he saw something in the distance, or preferably someone. Also, it was the figure of Genie. Genie was a remarkable saint with spiky tips and big elbows.
Genie gulped. Then he was not prepared for Giraffe.
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