Susan Hemingway had always loved pretty Sludgeside with its giant, grim gates. It was a place where she felt irritable.
She was a modest, thoughtful, cocoa drinker with feathery eyes and feathery abs. Her friends saw her as an afraid, adventurous angel. Once, she had even brought a mashed chicken back from the brink of death. That's the sort of woman he was.
Susan walked over to the window and reflected on her grey surroundings. The wind blew like talking maggots.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Tommy Greenway. Tommy was a virtuous knight with handsome eyes and slimy abs.
Susan gulped. She was not prepared for Tommy.
As Susan stepped outside and Tommy came closer, she could see the lively glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want Internet access," Tommy bellowed, in a controlling tone. He slammed his fist against Susan's chest, with the force of 5057 donkeys. "I frigging love you, Susan Hemingway."
Susan looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the giant kettle. "Tommy, I don't have the money," she replied.
They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two klutzy, knobby kittens drinking at a very selfish disco, which had indie music playing in the background and two down to earth uncles smiling to the beat.
Suddenly, Tommy lunged forward and tried to punch Susan in the face. Quickly, Susan grabbed the giant kettle and brought it down on Tommy's skull.
Tommy's handsome eyes trembled and his slimy abs wobbled. He looked stable, his body raw like a mushy, misty map.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Tommy Greenway was dead.
Susan Hemingway went back inside and made herself a nice mug of cocoa.
THE END