The lights flickered in the Immortal Gazette studio, casting long shadows across the round table where Alice, Loki, and Rumplestiltskin sat, ready to dissect yet another tale. A stack of old books sat beside them, their spines cracked with age. Alice sighed, flipping through a particularly yellowed volume.
"Alright, today's story," she said, tapping the cover, "The Food of the Gods and How It Came to Earth by H.G. Wells."
Loki raised a brow. "Ah yes, the one about scientists tampering with nature and getting exactly what they deserved."
Rumple chuckled, propping his boots up on the table. "Nothing like a good old-fashioned 'oops, we made monsters!' story. Classic."
Alice shook her head. "You two are impossible. Let me actually tell the story before you rip it apart."
The Story Begins...
Two scientists, Mr. Bensington and Professor Redwood, decide to play gods—because of course they do. They develop a mysterious growth formula called Herakleophorbia IV—a fancy way of saying let’s make things really, really big. The idea? To revolutionize the world by growing massive crops and livestock, solving hunger forever.
"But instead of feeding the hungry," Loki smirked, "they created giant everything—rats, wasps, chickens the size of horses..."
"Oh, and don't forget the giant babies," Rumple added, cackling. "Because what's not terrifying about human children the size of carriages?"
Alice sighed. "Right. The formula doesn't stay contained. Nature does what nature always does—it spreads. Soon, animals exposed to it grow to unnatural sizes, and before you know it, the countryside is being overrun by giant horrors. The chickens alone sound like something out of a nightmare."
"And yet no one thought maybe it was time to stop feeding things the formula?" Loki asked, shaking his head. "Typical mortal hubris."
"Exactly," Alice continued. "Meanwhile, the human babies exposed to the formula grow up to be—well—giants. Stronger, smarter, and very aware that normal-sized humans kind of... hate them."
Rumple grinned. "Oh, I love this part. The tiny humans get scared of the giants. The very same humans who made them in the first place!" He shook his head, amused. "Talk about poetic justice."
Alice nodded. "As the giants grow older, society starts seeing them as a problem rather than a miracle. The government panics, the public turns on them, and soon there's talk of control, containment, even outright war."
"Because of course humans react with violence," Loki drawled. "If they can't control it, they kill it."
"And that’s where it all unravels," Alice said. "The story ends in conflict—not just between the giants and humanity, but between ideas. The giants believe they represent the future, a new kind of humanity. The old world refuses to accept that. And so, the struggle begins: adapt, or be crushed."
The Verdict
Loki leaned back, smirking. "Classic case of 'we wanted progress but didn't consider the consequences.' The humans made their bed, and now they're terrified to lie in it."
Rumple shook his head. "And not in the fun, chaotic way either. Just a straight-up mess."
Alice crossed her arms. "I think that’s the point, though. H.G. Wells wasn’t just writing about giants—he was writing about change. About how people fear what they don’t understand, even if they created it. It’s about science getting ahead of ethics. And, you know, a giant chicken apocalypse."
Loki chuckled. "Ah, but what should have happened?"
Alice tapped her chin. "If they were smart? They'd have embraced the giants, built a world where both could thrive. But, knowing humanity... yeah, no. They weren’t ready for their own creation."
Rumple grinned. "And that’s why history repeats itself, over and over again."
Alice sighed. "Well, there you have it, readers. The Food of the Gods—a tale of science gone wrong, society crumbling under its own fear, and, of course, nightmare-sized farm animals."
Loki smirked. "So, moral of the story?"
Rumple cackled. "If you're gonna play god, maybe don’t make your problems larger than life."
Alice cleared her throat. "So, as I was saying—H.G. Wells' The Food of the Gods is a cautionary tale about—"
Loki cut in, smirking. "Giant chickens. Rats the size of ponies. Terrified humans. A giant baby rampage. You know, classic literature."
Alice narrowed her eyes. "I swear I just heard someone out there in the void of our readership mutter, ‘Wait, is that really the story?’ And you know what? That’s a fair question."
Rumple chuckled, raising his hands. "Alright, alright, let’s set the record straight before some know-it-all historian crawls out of the ether to correct us."
Alice folded her arms. "Yes, this is the story. More or less. But in case you two have been... embellishing—which, let’s be honest, you always do—let’s clarify a few things before we get burned at the stake for literary crimes."
The Real Story of The Food of the Gods
H.G. Wells wrote this novel in 1904, and yes, it’s about a scientific experiment gone wrong. Two scientists, Mr. Bensington and Professor Redwood, create a special growth formula called Herakleophorbia IV. Their idea? To improve agriculture by making plants and animals grow enormous, thus solving world hunger.
"Which sounds great," Loki muttered, "until you remember humans are horrible at containing their own inventions."
Alice nodded. "Exactly. The formula spreads beyond their control, leading to wildly oversized creatures—giant rats, wasps, and chickens—and, eventually, giant humans who were exposed to the formula in childhood."
"And here’s where it gets really messy," Rumple added, waggling his fingers dramatically. "The normal-sized humans start freaking out because suddenly there are giant children walking around, growing bigger by the day. And you know humans—if something’s different, they panic."
Alice continued. "The novel’s second half focuses on society's reaction. The government and the general public fear these giants. They try to restrict them, control them, even ban the substance outright. But the giants, led by Redwood’s own son, refuse to be contained. They see themselves as the future of humanity and demand a world where they can thrive."
"And that," Loki said, tapping the table, "is where things go full Greek tragedy."
What H.G. Wells Was Really Saying
Alice leaned forward. "This wasn’t just about giant animals and humans. Wells was writing about progress, about scientific advancement and how people react to change. The giants symbolize the future—a new generation that refuses to be held back by the outdated fears of the past. It’s about revolution, about evolution. About how every breakthrough terrifies the old guard."
Rumple smirked. "And yet, somehow, all I can picture is an army of giant chickens terrorizing a village."
Loki laughed. "That is in the book, to be fair."
Alice sighed. "So, dear readers, let’s be crystal clear. Yes, this is the story H.G. Wells wrote. We might have leaned slightly into the chaos for dramatic effect, but at its core, The Food of the Gods is about science, fear, and the clash between progress and tradition."
Rumple grinned. "And, you know, the nightmare of farm animals big enough to eat you for dinner."
Alice threw up her hands. "Close enough."
