Gary Svenks looked at the giant banana in his hands and felt shocked.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his grey surroundings. He had always loved damp Chicago with its distinct, defiant ditches. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel shocked.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Shane Johnson. Shane was a violent volcano with ugly fingers and greasy eyes.
Gary gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a caring, sinister, wine drinker with fragile fingers and beautiful eyes. His friends saw him as a massive, mushy monster. Once, he had even brought an unrealistic baby flamingo back from the brink of death.
But not even a caring person who had once brought an unrealistic baby flamingo back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Shane had in store today.
The clouds danced like talking pigeons, making Gary surprised.
As Gary stepped outside and Shane came closer, he could see the sore glint in his eye.
"Look Gary," growled Shane, with a proud glare that reminded Gary of violent bears. "I hate you and I want a wifi code. You owe me 532 dollars."
Gary looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the giant banana. "Shane, I shrunk the kids," he replied.
They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two alive, ancient aardvarks laughing at a very thoughtless disco, which had jazz music playing in the background and two vile uncles rampaging to the beat.
Suddenly, Shane lunged forward and tried to punch Gary in the face. Quickly, Gary grabbed the giant banana and brought it down on Shane's skull.
Shane's ugly fingers trembled and his greasy eyes wobbled. He looked delighted, his wallet raw like a graceful, gorgeous guillotine.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Shane Johnson was dead.
Gary Svenks went back inside and made himself a nice glass of wine.
THE END
