Grendel loved brownies, so his mother liked to rustle him up a batch whenever she could.
Like most dreadful monsters he had a huge appetite. Because she was so busy fighting marauding hoards and because preparing three dozen brownies took quite some time, his mother saved them as a treat for him.
One night mother found she only had 4 brownies ready for Grendel’s tea. She searched the forest and the town, the beach and the mountain, but wasn’t able to make the batch any bigger. He wouldn’t be happy.
“Here you are, dear,” she said, handing him the plate.
“Why so few?” he asked, smushing the 4 brownies into his mouth with one hand. Bits fell out between his teeth as he chewed and he gathered them up off the floor.
“It’s so hard to get them these days. Word has got round that you like them so much, and packs have disbanded everywhere,” said Grendel’s mother. “Try these, dear. They shouldn’t be much different.”
Grendel took a handful, sniffed and stuffed the contents into his mouth.
“Not bad,” he said. “What is it?”
“Scouts,” said his mother.