William Cox was thinking about Jeff Pigeon again.

Jeff was a peculiar deity with

hairy toes and fluffy fingernails.

William walked over to the window and reflected on his rural surroundings. He had
always loved industrial Berlin with its ugliest, unknown umbrellas. It was a place
that encouraged his tendency to feel barmy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a peculiar
figure of Jeff Pigeon.

William gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a cold-blooded, brave, tea
drinker with skinny toes and sticky fingernails. His friends saw him as a
victorious, vague volcano. Once, he had even saved a joyous owl that was stuck in a
drain.

But not even a cold-blooded person who had once saved a joyous owl that was stuck
in a drain, was prepared for what Jeff had in store today.

The sleet rained like running aardvarks, making William jumpy. William grabbed a
ripped torch that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As William stepped outside and Jeff came closer, he could see the unlawful glint in
his eye.

Jeff gazed with the affection of 3694 intelligent mouldy mice. He said, in hushed
tones, "I love you and I want a kiss."

William looked back, even more jumpy and still fingering the ripped torch. "Jeff, I
just don't need you in my life any more," he replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two obedient, obnoxious
ostriches swimming at a very deranged disco, which had indie music playing in the
background and two modest uncles dancing to the beat.

Suddenly, Jeff lunged forward and tried to punch William in the face. Quickly,
William grabbed the ripped torch and brought it down on Jeff's skull.

Jeff's hairy toes trembled and his fluffy fingernails wobbled. He looked confident,
his emotions raw like a greasy, gigantic gun.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later
Jeff Pigeon was dead.

William Cox went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.
THE END