Gulliver’s ship was wrecked during his long voyage. Floating on a rotting plank, he was desperately seeking terra firma. It was a blessing that the tropical storm that thrashed him one night also deposited him on the shores of Lilliput.
Five years went by quickly. Gulliver had found his feet, built a home, learned many things, made many friends, and generally had had a good time in Lilliput. But now, after half a decade of being a Lilliput resident, a sense of ennui had crept in. He had reached a plateau where everything was familiar yet monotonous, and the adventurer in him felt a strong desire for change.
Desperately seeking counsel, he called his wise friend, Newton.
“Uh … who … what … hello?!”
“Hey, Isaac, it’s me, Lemuel!”
“Lemuel? Oh! Heeeeyyyy … Lemmy! ‘Sup dawg?”
“I’m cool. Watcha doin’?”
“Ah, nuthin, just chillin’ under mama’s apple tree. It’s kinda loaded with apples this time of the year, but I’m too smashed to pluck one myself. So, I’m just lying here waiting for ’em to fall. Wish you were here too. We could’ve done this together!”
“Naice! K, lissen, Isaac, I need you to sort this thing for me, man. You know, in Lilliput, I’m the tallest guy around. So, naturally, I can see the furthest. After five long years, I’ve seen as much as I could from this tiny island. I want to see further. It’s weird to say this here, but I want to grow taller! What do I do, man? It is either here or Blefuscu. And the only difference is in how they crack their eggs!”
“Hmm … Lemmy, bro, know this: If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.”
“Bro, you gotta move to Brobdingnag.”