Once upon a time there were three Biggie Goats Gruff, who lived inside a giant pineapple in the magical Kingdom of Australia. There was a handsome Biggy Goat Gruff, an even handsomer Biggie Goat Gruff, and a third Biggie Goat Gruff who was so super handsome that women – and even some of the more emotionally-resilient men – would weep at his feet as he swaggered past.
This trio of Biggie Goats set out on an incredible adventure through the badlands of the United States, on a quest to track down roadside attractions of unimaginable size. They were amazed by a monumental marlin in Hawai’i. Encountered a colossal crab in San Francisco. The Goats even enjoyed a torrid bromance with a ruggedly delicious lumberjack in a back alley in northern Portland.
After months of daring exploits, the three Biggie Goats Gruff found themselves in the gleaming emerald city of Seattle. Wanting to meet their good chum, LGBTQI+ icon Vladimir Lenin in the whimsical village of Fremont, the Goats stood before the rickety old George Washington Memorial Bridge.
The untamed Lake Union churned and turned beneath them and, finally, the handsome Biggie Goat stepped cautiously onto the span. He’d taken but 73 steps when the bridge began to rattle and roll, and a terrifying voice rang out throughout the hills and valleys of the evergreen Pacific Northwest.
“Who’s that trying to cross my bridge?” the voice slurped. The handsome Biggie Goat Gruff peered over the edge to see an enormous, one-eyed goblin. By the Biggie Goat’s estimation he stood 18 ft (5.5 m) high, weighed 13,000 lb (5,900 kg), and was made of steel rebar, wire, and concrete.
“It’s just me, the ever-handsome Biggie Goat Bardot, Australia’s foremost expert on Big Things and associated oversized roadside attractions,” the dashing chap replied confidently.
“Hi Bigs, I’m the Fremont Troll,” beamed the beast, giving the Biggie Goat a fist bump. “I was sculpted by four talented local artists: Steve Badanes, Will Martin, Donna Walter, and Ross Whitehead. By the way, I adore your website and your quirky, individual fashion sense. Please, go ahead to Fremont and enjoy the plethora of unique exhibits. Make sure to say hi to The Undaunted Spirit for me, and remind him that we’re playing gin rummy on Thursday.”
“Shouldn’t you be playing bridge?”
“Oh, Bigs, you’re a delight!”
And so, with a spring in his step, the handsome Biggie Goat Gruff crossed the George Washington Bridge to enjoy the sights and sounds of exotic Fremont.
Trollin’ With The Homies
Seeing the handsome Biggie Goat Gruff frollicking through Fremont, the even handsomer Biggie Goat Gruff worked up the courage to cross the George Washington Memorial Bridge. With a cocksure swagger, he’d taken but 74 super masculine steps when a cacophony rang throughout the crisp afternoon.
“Who’s that trying to cross my bridge?” something mysterious growled. The handsomer took a gander over the edge to see a beast of unimaginable size and strength. In his hand was a genuine VW Beetle, which may or may not have been plucked from atop the bridge. What the Biggie Goat didn’t see was a time capsule, which he guessed had been stolen at some point in the past.
“It’s just me, the even handsomer Biggie Goat Bardot, Australia’s foremost expert on Big Things and national poodle grooming champion for the past three years,” the Biggie Goat replied charismatically.
“Hola Bigs, I’m the Fremont Troll,” chuckled the creature, giving the Biggie Goat the sort of elbow tap that hasn’t been seen since the early days of that Covid epidemic. “I’ve been the beating heart of the Fremont cultural movement since 1990, when the local Arts Council held a competition to rehabilitate the area under this very bridge.”
“Because it had become overrun by drug addicts, prostitutes and other ne’er-do-wells?”
“Exactly, Bigs. You’re not addicted to anything, are you?”
“I’m only addicted to your kisses, my dear Troll.”
And so, with the daintiness of a Bulgarian gymnast, the handsomer Biggie Goat Gruff traversed the George Washington Bridge to revel in the glitz and glamour of fascinating Fremont.
It’s A Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna See the Troll)
With both of his amigos ensconced in the comforting bosom of the bohemian wonderland of Fremont, the handsomest of the Biggie Goats plucked up the fortitude to negotiate the George Washington Memorial Bridge.
With a grace belying his robust physique, he’d taken but 75 cat-like steps when the peaceful evening was shattered by enraged yodelling from the depths below.
“Who’s that trying to cross my bridge?” squirted the unseen ogre. The handsomest of the Biggie Goats adjusted his custom-made, prescription Havaianas sunglasses and peeked over the edge of the bridge to see a mythical creature with a gleaming eye and a smile that could melt the coldest heart. The Biggie Goat was hardly surprised by his appearance, as Trolls have been a large part of the local culture for almost a century.
“It’s just me, the handsomest Biggie Goat Bardot, Australia’s foremost expert on Big Things and former backup dancer for, and confidante of, music darling Guy Sebastian,” the Biggie Goat replied chaotically.
“Asalaam alaikum, Bigs, I’m the Fremont Troll,” came the cheery response. “Apologies for my egregious display of toxic masculinity, but I’ve been vandalised many times over the past three decades, and so have to be on my guard against delinquents, thugs and hooligans.”
“But can’t you just eat them, Fremont Troll?”
“Aw, shucks, no. I’m dating a yoga instructor and she’s got me on a vegan diet. I was sceptical at first, but the taste, texture and nutritional value of plant-based meat replacements have improved dramatically in the last few years, and I’m actually feeling healthier and happier than I have in years.”
“Fremont Troll, I’m not your yoga instructor girlfriend. You can be honest with me.”
“I ate three Korean tourists for breakfast!”
And with that, the handsomest of the Biggie Goats Gruff took the Fremont Troll by his enormous concrete hand, and they skipped across to bustling Fremont. There they enjoyed an assortment of craft beers and poke bowls with the other Goats and all the giant roadside attractions, including Vladimir Lenin, who looked exquisite in a corset and fishnet stockings.
And they all lived Biggily ever after…
