The BFG is not any peculiar bone-crunching big. He’s far too good and jumbly. It is fortunate for Sophie that he’s. Had she been carried off in the midst of the night time by the Bloodbottler, or any of the opposite giants—slightly than the BFG—she would have quickly turn out to be breakfast. When Sophie hears that the giants are flush-bunking off to England to swollomp a number of good little chiddlers, she decides she should cease them as soon as and for all. And the BFG goes to assist her!