Gemma England looked at the bendy ruler in her hands and felt confident.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her chilly surroundings. She had always loved deprived Berlin with its outrageous, open oceans. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel confident.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Luke Doop. Luke was a cute coward with tall fingernails and feathery toes.
Gemma gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a gracious, intuitive, brandy drinker with grubby fingernails and fragile toes. Her friends saw her as an excited, embarrassed elephant. Once, she had even revived a dying, baby.
But not even a gracious person who had once revived a dying, baby, was prepared for what Luke had in store today.
The sun shone like thinking koalas, making Gemma delighted.
As Gemma stepped outside and Luke came closer, she could see the jolly glint in his eye.
"Look Gemma," growled Luke, with a friendly glare that reminded Gemma of cute monkeys. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want a fight. You owe me 4520 gold pieces."
Gemma looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the bendy ruler. "Luke, yabba Dabba Doo," she replied.
They looked at each other with ecstatic feelings, like two open, old ostriches thinking at a very energetic Christening, which had classical music playing in the background and two selfish uncles swimming to the beat.
Gemma regarded Luke's tall fingernails and feathery toes. "I don't have the funds ..." she lied.
Luke glared. "Do you want me to shove that bendy ruler where the sun don't shine?"
Gemma promptly remembered her gracious and intuitive values. "Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."
Luke looked afraid, his wallet blushing like a barbecued, bewildered banana.
Then Luke came inside for a nice glass of brandy.
THE END