*Okay, so I had to write this for my senior English class, so it's a little kooky and not a very inspired bit of writing, but it has its funny moments. :)*

Many years after the demise of Grendel, King Beowulf received reports that flocks of sheep had begun disappearing from his kingdom. Soon afterward, the storehouse-keepers reported the wool nearly gone, just as the yearly shipment of fruits from Hrant arrived. The kingdom of Hrant bordered Geatland in the northeast* and traded fruit with Beowulf's people in exchange for wool. The Hrants possessed notoriously impatient, volatile dispositions, and already Beowulf had received threats of war unless they got due compensation for their fruit. He immediately summoned the local shepherds and gently questioned them about the missing flocks.

"Out with it!" he exclaimed. "We need that wool! What have you been doing with the sheep?!" The shepherds dilly-dallied, shuffling their feet, until one of them nervously stepped forward and began the tale.

A massive ogre, called Ogelthorpe the Gruesome by those he terrorized, had founded his abode in the mountains nearby. He had arrived in Geatland a few months before after completely decimating the flocks of wherever he had originally resided and subsequently emigrating from that land. Pairs and trios of sheep had been going missing every few days all through the winter, the shepherd informed his lord, and now the ogre had begun employing a new method—sorcery. An accomplished magician, Ogelthorpe had become too lazy to bother going to get the sheep, so he merely strolled out of his cave and bewitched a shepherd to bring the sheep to him. Two entire flocks of sheep had followed their spellbound herders up the mountain in the past month, and fifty more had been hijacked that very morning.

When Beowulf heard this he jumped to his feet and proclaimed, "I will see this foul beast vanquished, and so forever will the Slayer of Grendel also bear the name of Ogre-Crusher!" Grabbing up his sword, shield, and helmet, Beowulf set off alone to Ogelthorpe's cave. Upon arriving there, he stomped through the entrance determined to challenge the insurgent outright. The mighty ogre, Ogelthorpe the Gruesome, sat on a stool in one corner of the cave, candles burning brightly around him, determinedly clutching a needle between two enormous, sausage-like fingers and piecing together a sheepskin cloak to match his wooly vest. He looked up as Beowulf entered, and beast and man stared at each other for a moment in complete surprise. Both recovered quickly, though, and roared out their challenges—a king determined to fight for his sheep and an ogre determined that no one should ever hear of his sewing.

The titans launched themselves at each other and fought hand-to-hand for several grueling minutes. It did not take long, however, for Ogelthorpe to realize that he could not best this man. Wresting himself away, the monster pulled out a wand and began firing multi-colored jets of light at his opponent. Beowulf dodged them easily—right up until he tripped on an oriental rug and fell on his face. Seizing the opportunity, Ogelthorpe shot a horrid, puce-colored beam at his fallen enemy, roaring in expectation of his victory. Seeing his doom whizzing through the air, Beowulf drew his sword and flashed it in front of him, quick as lightning. The puce light reflected off the polished steel and bounced right back at its master, striking the ogre mid-roar, and obscuring him in a cloud of smoke. Beowulf waited anxiously for a moment as the smoke cleared, then beheld a very large, very fluffy sheep staring back at him in bewilderment. Scooping up his baa-ing opponent, the king of the Geats returned to his hall to have lamb chops with his men and tell of how he had destroyed the ogre with its own magic.

*Hrant is a purely fictional nation, created solely for the purpose of this narrative, and cannot be found on any map anywhere.