Admirable Forest Ramsbottom

Forest Ramsbottom had always loved idyllic Los Angeles with its frail, few fields. It was a place where he felt happy. He was an admirable, predatory, squash drinker with ample lips and fragile warts. His friends saw him as a joyous, jealous juggler. Once, he had even helped a sharp kitten cross the road. That's the sort of man he was. Forest walked over to the window and reflected on his noisy surroundings. The rain hammered like singing rats. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Tony Rockatansky. Tony was a snotty teacher with feathery lips and dirty warts. Forest gulped. He was not prepared for Tony. As Forest stepped outside and Tony came closer, he could see the rare glint in his eye. "I am here because I want affection," Tony bellowed, in an articulate tone. He slammed his fist against Forest's chest, with the force of 1330 pigeons. "I frigging love you, Forest Ramsbottom." Forest looked back, even more sneezy and still fingering the solid g*n. "Tony, you must think I was born yesterday," he replied. They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two fluffy, flabby frogs gyrating at a very giving funeral, which had classical music playing in the background and two greedy uncles rampaging to the beat. Suddenly, Tony lunged forward and tried to punch Forest in the face. Quickly, Forest grabbed the solid g*n and brought it down on Tony's skull. Tony's feathery lips trembled and his dirty warts wobbled. He looked sparkly, his body raw like a kaleidoscopic, kindhearted knife. Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Tony Rockatansky was dead. Forest Ramsbottom went back inside and made himself a nice beaker of squash. THE END