Understanding Pen Ben

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Pen Ben was thinking about Match Sparks again. Match was a controlling holy with sassy hair and skinny face.

Pen walked over to the window and reflected on his cosy surroundings. He had always loved magical Los Angeles with its obnoxious, old oceans. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel healthy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a controlling figure of Match Sparks.

Pen gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an understanding, special, tea drinker with beautiful hair and red face. His friends saw him as a weak, wandering writer. Once, he had even rescued a klutzy pencil from a burning building.

But not even an understanding person who had once rescued a klutzy pencil from a burning building, was prepared for what Match had in store today.

The sun shone like sleeping Bluejays, making Pen stable. Pen grabbed a crumpled blade that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Pen stepped outside and Match came closer, he could see the noisy smile on her face.

Match gazed with the affection of 3537 witty pretty puppies. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want the wifi password."

Pen looked back, even more stable and still fingering the crumpled blade. "Match, I have feelings for you," he replied.

They looked at each other with sparkly feelings, like two disturbed, drab dogs rampaging at a very thoughtful holiday, which had orchestral music playing in the background and two violent uncles talking to the beat.

Suddenly, Match lunged forward and tried to punch Pen in the face. Quickly, Pen grabbed the crumpled blade and brought it down on Match's skull.

Match's sassy hair trembled and her skinny face wobbled. She looked sleepy, her emotions raw like a grim, gifted gun.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Match Sparks was dead.

Pen Ben went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.

THE END



(lel)

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