(I was looking for inspiration in my writer block, I decided to go to https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/ And this is the thing I made-)
Two Creepy Uncles Boating to the Beat
A Short Story
by K.k
Forest McCallister had always loved magical San Francisco with its knotty, kaleidoscopic kettles. It was a place where he felt anxious.
He was an intelligent, creepy, tea drinker with ugly fingers and tall thighs. His friends saw him as a distinct, deafening do gooder. Once, he had even brought an exuberant toddler back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.
Forest walked over to the window and reflected on his deserted surroundings. The wind blew like rampaging badgers.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Chris Blast. Chris was a helpful god with sticky fingers and skinny thighs.
Forest gulped. He was not prepared for Chris.
As Forest stepped outside and Chris came closer, he could see the unrealistic glint in his eye.
Chris gazed with the affection of 8546 creepy petite puppies. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a wifi code."
Forest looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the damp hat. "Chris, I've got a new job," he replied.
They looked at each other with shocked feelings, like two odd, oily owls sitting at a very ruthless accident, which had jazz music playing in the background and two creepy uncles boating to the beat.
Suddenly, Chris lunged forward and tried to punch Forest in the face. Quickly, Forest grabbed the damp hat and brought it down on Chris's skull.
Chris's sticky fingers trembled and his skinny thighs wobbled. He looked lonely, his emotions raw like a kooky, kindhearted kettle.
Then he let out an agonizing groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Chris Blast was dead.
Forest McCallister went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.
THE END
