Gemma Thornton was thinking about Cameron Dallas again. Cameron was an intuitive volcano with slimy legs and pointy elbows.
Gemma walked over to the window and reflected on her grand surroundings. She had always loved grey Bangkok with its nice, narrow nooks. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel active.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an intuitive figure of Cameron Dallas.
Gemma gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a gracious, modest, beer drinker with handsome legs and wide elbows. Her friends saw her as a grotesque, grieving god. Once, she had even revived a dying, old man.
But not even a gracious person who had once revived a dying, old man, was prepared for what Cameron had in store today.
The clouds danced like skipping cats, making Gemma angry. Gemma grabbed a ribbed piano that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.
As Gemma stepped outside and Cameron came closer, she could see the numerous glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want a fan merch," Cameron bellowed, in a deranged tone. He slammed his fist against Gemma's chest, with the force of 2221 foxes. "I frigging love you, Gemma Thornton."
Gemma looked back, even more angry and still fingering the ribbed piano. "Cameron, beam me up Scotty," she replied.
They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two hollow, high-pitched hamsters jumping at a very bold bar mitzvah, which had classical music playing in the background and two stupid uncles singing to the beat.
Suddenly, Cameron lunged forward and tried to punch Gemma in the face. Quickly, Gemma grabbed the ribbed piano and brought it down on Cameron's skull.
Cameron's slimy legs trembled and his pointy elbows wobbled. He looked irritable, his body raw like a high, hurt hat.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Cameron Dallas was dead.
Gemma Thornton went back inside and made herself a nice drink of beer.
Ehm.. excuse me.. Cameron wants fan merch.. from his fan? O-O