On the summer's Primitive Ancient Origin, wild grass is lush and abundant, and taking a pleasing nap in the soft grass nest every day is a life even the gods would envy.
Napoleon, the little giant Iverson, was lying in the grass, having a sweet dream. He dreamt he married four beautiful wives; a Frost Giant beauty, a Sky Giant beauty, a Mist Giant beauty, and a Hill Giant beauty, but no Flame Giant beauty. On the wedding night, "the Answer" realized that all four wives were too tall! These four wives were so enormous, how was life going to go on?
So Iverson went to his boss, asking how to resolve this.
"Tomorrow, I'll head to the Dwarf Empire to propose on your behalf, marrying their princess!" the boss said fiercely. "Isn't that simple enough?"
"Isn't that inappropriate... what if... what if they disagree? What if they don't fancy me?" Iverson hesitated, feeling quite embarrassed, "The Dwarves are very hot-tempered."
