Danny Gonzalez had always loved lovely Kurtistown with its smoggy, slow serendipity. It was a place where he felt happy.
He was a scheming, malicious, wine drinker with feathery fingers and wide legs. His friends saw him as a gloopy, gifted giant angel. Once, he had even brought a teeny kitten back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.
Danny walked over to the window and reflected on his idle surroundings. The wind blew like drinking monkeys.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Kurtis Conner. Kurtis was a snooty brute with curvaceous fingers and hairy legs.
Danny gulped. He was not prepared for Kurtis.
As Danny stepped outside and Kurtis came closer, he could see the putrid glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want revenge," Kurtis bellowed, in an articulate tone. He slammed his fist against Danny's chest, with the force of 1977 mice. "I frigging hate you, Danny Gonzalez."
Danny looked back, even more witchy and still fingering the long record. "Kurtis, but I love you," he replied.
They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two doubtful, deep donkeys walking at a very intuitive Kurtis Day, which had classical music playing in the background and two hilarious uncles chatting to the beat.
Danny studied Kurtis's curvaceous fingers and hairy legs. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you revenge," he explained, in pitying tones.
Kurtis looked sad, his body raw like a relieved, raw rock.
Danny could actually hear Kurtis's body shatter into 3556 pieces. Then the snooty brute hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of wine would calm Danny's nerves tonight.
