Creepy Liverpool

Helen Blacksmith was thinking about Zoe Jones again. Zoe was a vile volcano with ugly ankles and blonde eyebrows.

Helen walked over to the window and reflected on her damp surroundings. She had always loved creepy Liverpool with its jealous, jittery jungle. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel delighted.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a vile figure of Zoe Jones.

Helen gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a tight-fisted, charming, squash drinker with ugly ankles and slimy eyebrows. Her friends saw her as an ordinary, outrageous ogre. Once, she had even brought a spicy kitten back from the brink of death.

But not even a tight-fisted person who had once brought a spicy kitten back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Zoe had in store today.

The rain hammered like sleeping flamingos, making Helen ambivalent. Helen grabbed a cursed piano that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Helen stepped outside and Zoe came closer, she could see the expensive glint in her eye.

"Look Helen," growled Zoe, with a spiteful glare that reminded Helen of vile hamsters. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want some more Facebook friends. You owe me 1791 pounds."

Helen looked back, even more ambivalent and still fingering the cursed piano. "Zoe, let's move in together," she replied.

They looked at each other with sparkly feelings, like two mangled, mammoth mice dancing at a very controlling birthday party, which had classical music playing in the background and two helpful uncles jumping to the beat.

Suddenly, Zoe lunged forward and tried to punch Helen in the face. Quickly, Helen grabbed the cursed piano and brought it down on Zoe's skull.

Zoe's ugly ankles trembled and her blonde eyebrows wobbled. She looked worried, her wallet raw like a helpful, hissing hawk.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Zoe Jones was dead.

Helen Blacksmith went back inside and made herself a nice beaker of squash.