Steve Sweet looked at the bendy newspaper in his hands and felt barmy.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his cold surroundings. He had always hated grey Somwhere with its great, gloopy gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel barmy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Stanley Jones. Stanley was a witty ogre with dirty feet and ample eyelashes.
Steve gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a tight-fisted, snotty, wine drinker with slimy feet and blonde eyelashes. His friends saw him as a kaleidoscopic, kooky knight. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a hurt disabled person.
But not even a tight-fisted person who had once made a cup of tea for a hurt disabled person, was prepared for what Stanley had in store today.
The hail pounded like walking giraffes, making Steve ugly.
As Steve stepped outside and Stanley came closer, he could see the dizzy glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want a wifi code," Stanley bellowed, in a mean tone. She slammed her fist against Steve's chest, with the force of 8722 foxes. "I frigging hate you, Steve Sweet."
Steve looked back, even more ugly and still fingering the bendy newspaper. "Stanley, I hate your stupid dunuts," he replied.
They looked at each other with afraid feelings, like two kooky, knobbly kittens french kissing at a very charming dinner party, which had trance music playing in the background and two caring uncles licking to the beat.
Steve studied Stanley's dirty feet and ample eyelashes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a wifi code," he explained, in pitying tones.
Stanley looked dumb, her body raw like a crowded, cruel condom.
Steve could actually hear Stanley's body shatter into 6461 pieces. Then the witty ogre hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of wine would calm Steve's nerves tonight.
THE END
