Picturesque Cape Town

Jenny Kowalski looked at the warped knife in her hands and felt angry.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her creepy surroundings. She had always loved picturesque Cape Town with its calm, cloudy cliffs. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel angry.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Harry Blacksmith. Harry was a lovable gamer with ginger thighs and slimy toenails.

Jenny gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a creepy, spiteful, port drinker with spiky thighs and spiky toenails. Her friends saw her as a brawny, boiled brute. Once, she had even saved a grumpy old man that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a creepy person who had once saved a grumpy old man that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Harry had in store today.

The wind blew like rampaging toads, making Jenny anxious.

As Jenny stepped outside and Harry came closer, she could see the fried smile on his face.

"I am here because I want peace," Harry bellowed, in a patient tone. He slammed his fist against Jenny's chest, with the force of 4969 ostriches. "I frigging love you, Jenny Kowalski."

Jenny looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the warped knife. "Harry, get out of my house," she replied.

They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two friendly, faffdorking flamingos sleeping at a very cute funeral, which had piano music playing in the background and two witty uncles drinking to the beat.

Suddenly, Harry lunged forward and tried to punch Jenny in the face. Quickly, Jenny grabbed the warped knife and brought it down on Harry's skull.

Harry's ginger thighs trembled and his slimy toenails wobbled. He looked concerned, his body raw like a mouldy, magnificent map.

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

Jenny Kowalski went back inside and made herself a nice glass of port.