The Grey Dan

Wilbur Soot looked at the grey Dan in his hands and felt mad.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his loud surroundings. He had always hated sooty Soothouse™ with its bored, broad beans. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel mad.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of David lastname. David was a lovely a b s o l u t e u n i t with lanky elbows and short tornado tongues.

Wilbur gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a nice, strange, b e a n j u i c e drinker with t h i c c elbows and tall tornado tongues. His friends saw him as a bored, broad beanie. Once, he had even helped a combative Charlie cross the road.

But not even a nice person who had once helped a combative Charlie cross the road, was prepared for what David had in store today.

The fog teased like dabbing dogs, making Wilbur bad.

As Wilbur stepped outside and David came closer, he could see the deep glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want pant," David bellowed, in a loud tone. He slammed his fist against Wilbur's chest, with the force of 4307 echidnas. "I frigging love you, Wilbur Soot."

Wilbur looked back, even more bad and still fingering the grey Dan. "David, where the F U C K are the kids," he replied.

They looked at each other with glad feelings, like two combative, cuddly christian hedgehogs injecting the vape at a very dead TwitchCon, which had mumble rap music playing in the background and two cringey uncles praising the lord to the beat.

Suddenly, David lunged forward and tried to punch Wilbur in the face. Quickly, Wilbur grabbed the grey Dan and brought it down on David's skull.

David's lanky elbows trembled and his short tornado tongues wobbled. He looked sad, his body raw like a jittery, jolly Jack.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later David lastname was dead.

Wilbur Soot went back inside and made himself a nice drink of b e a n j u i c e.