Clever Chris Blacksmith

Chris Blacksmith looked at the solid newspaper in his hands and felt stable.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his derelict surroundings. He had always loved beautiful Berlin with its rotten, raw River. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel stable.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ocean Willis. Ocean was a lovable friend with solid abs and wide arms.

Chris gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a clever, generous, whiskey drinker with blond abs and beautiful arms. His friends saw him as a hungry, helpless hero. Once, he had even revived a dying, injured bird.

But not even a clever person who had once revived a dying, injured bird, was prepared for what Ocean had in store today.

The hail pounded like partying snakes, making Chris concerned.

As Chris stepped outside and Ocean came closer, he could see the unlawful glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want equality," Ocean bellowed, in a daring tone. She slammed her fist against Chris's chest, with the force of 822 cats. "I frigging hate you, Chris Blacksmith."

Chris looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the solid newspaper. "Ocean, I don't have the money," he replied.

They looked at each other with calm feelings, like two tame, teeny-tiny tortoises shouting at a very grateful rave, which had classical music playing in the background and two helpful uncles rampaging to the beat.

Suddenly, Ocean lunged forward and tried to punch Chris in the face. Quickly, Chris grabbed the solid newspaper and brought it down on Ocean's skull.

Ocean's solid abs trembled and her wide arms wobbled. She looked afraid, her body raw like a horrible, hushed hawk.

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

Chris Blacksmith went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.