Kimberly Smith looked at the squidgy sandwich in her hands and felt shocked.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her sunny surroundings. She had always loved idyllic Chicago with its klutzy, knowledgeable kettles. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel shocked.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Polly Superhalk. Polly was a deranged elephant with curvaceous elbows and pretty warts.
Kimberly gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a considerate, understanding, cocoa drinker with wobbly elbows and brunette warts. Her friends saw her as a splendid, screeching saint. Once, she had even helped a moaning baby bird cross the road.
But not even a considerate person who had once helped a moaning baby bird cross the road, was prepared for what Polly had in store today.
The snow flurried like swimming owls, making Kimberly concerned.
As Kimberly stepped outside and Polly came closer, she could see the blushing glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want a carrot," Polly bellowed, in a special tone. She slammed her fist against Kimberly's chest, with the force of 6082 donkeys. "I frigging love you, Kimberly Smith."
Kimberly looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the squidgy sandwich. "Polly, you're weird," she replied.
They looked at each other with sparkly feelings, like two kindhearted, kooky koalas partying at a very gracious funeral, which had jazz music playing in the background and two bold uncles jogging to the beat.
Suddenly, Polly lunged forward and tried to punch Kimberly in the face. Quickly, Kimberly grabbed the squidgy sandwich and brought it down on Polly's skull.
Polly's curvaceous elbows trembled and her pretty warts wobbled. She looked stressed, her body raw like a burnt, brawny banana.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Polly Superhalk was dead.
Kimberly Smith went back inside and made herself a nice mug of cocoa.