Two Tactless Uncles Rampaging to the Beat

A Short Story
by dude

Hector Vader was thinking about Shane Barker again. Shane was
a predatory volcano with brown toes and pink legs.

Hector walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet

surroundings. He had always loved picturesque Truro with its
teeny, thoughtless trees. It was a place that encouraged his
tendency to feel calm.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was

the a predatory figure of Shane Barker.

Hector gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a

cowardly, selfish, wine drinker with tall toes and sloppy legs. His
friends saw him as a lovely, late lover. Once, he had even helped
a gigantic puppy cross the road.

But not even a cowardly person who had once helped a gigantic
puppy cross the road, was prepared for what Shane had in store
today.

The rain hammered like partying giraffes, making Hector healthy.

Hector grabbed a warped torch that had been strewn nearby; he
massaged it with his fingers.

As Hector stepped outside and Shane came closer, he could see

the loopy glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want a pencil," Shane bellowed, in a

cowardly tone. He slammed his fist against Hector's chest, with
the force of 3542 flamingos. "I frigging love you, Hector Vader."

Hector looked back, even more healthy and still fingering the
warped torch. "Shane, Is that real leather," he replied.
They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two teeny-
tiny, testy toads eating at a very considerate disco, which had jazz
music playing in the background and two tactless uncles
rampaging to the beat.

Hector regarded Shane's brown toes and pink legs. He held out
his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered Shane.

"Please?" begged Hector with puppy dog eyes.

Shane looked sleepy, his body blushing like a bad, bumpy book.

Then Shane came inside for a nice glass of wine.

THE END