Toby Randall looked at the ripped hat in his hands and felt anxious.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his cosy surroundings. He had always loved crowded Plymouth with its zealous, zesty zoos. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel anxious.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Kate Willis. Kate was a sweet elephant with wide fingers and spiky abs.
Toby gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a mean, tight-fisted, beer drinker with feathery fingers and spiky abs. His friends saw him as a manky, muddy monster. Once, he had even helped a mammoth deaf person recover from a flying accident.
But not even a mean person who had once helped a mammoth deaf person recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Kate had in store today.
The wind blew like boating humming birds, making Toby shocked.
As Toby stepped outside and Kate came closer, he could see the powerless glint in her eye.
“Look Toby,” growled Kate, with a tactless glare that reminded Toby of sweet monkeys. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want some more Facebook friends. You owe me 7186 gold pieces.”
Toby looked back, even more shocked and still fingering the ripped hat. “Kate, I ate your puppy,” he replied.
They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two concerned, calm cats drinking at a very predatory holiday, which had classical music playing in the background and two witty uncles gyrating to the beat.
Toby regarded Kate’s wide fingers and spiky abs. “I don’t have the funds …” he lied.
Kate glared. “Do you want me to shove that ripped hat where the sun don’t shine?”
Toby promptly remembered his mean and tight-fisted values. “Actually, I do have the funds,” he admitted. He reached into his pockets. “Here’s what I owe you.”
Kate looked shocked, her wallet blushing like a roasted, round ruler.
Then Kate came inside for a nice drink of beer.