This is an inestimable mistake…
You climb the jagged cliffside, knowing it might be the last thing you do. And, finally, you reach the crag where legend tells he resides. . .
Holding in tears of dread, you approach his cave. Will he grant an answer to your question or comment — or will you become his dinner? You spy a glimmer in the depths — as of faint light reflected on a vast, damp eyeball. You hear the roll of mountain thunder — and then realize that is his stomach’s growl. You smell death, and diverse seasonings including oregano and dill. Trembling, you place your email gently at the mouth of his cave.
Within, Cannibal Cyclops stirs . . .