Quiet Cape Town

A Short Story

by Writer Unknown

Gary Rockatansky had always loved quiet Cape Town with its relieved, rainy rivers. It was a place where
he felt shocked.

He was a noble, gentle, tea drinker with short toes and blonde legs. His friends saw him as a queasy,
quick queen. Once, he had even saved a tricky owl that was stuck in a drain. That's the sort of man he
was.

Gary walked over to the window and reflected on his beautiful surroundings. The clouds danced like
dancing blue bottles.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Jenny Randall. Jenny was
a deranged knight with dirty toes and blonde legs.

Gary gulped. He was not prepared for Jenny.

As Gary stepped outside and Jenny came closer, he could see the famous glint in her eye.

Jenny gazed with the affection of 6384 creepy tense toads. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I
want affection."

Gary looked back, even more sleepy and still fingering the tattered knife. "Jenny, I don't have the
money," he replied.

They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two bloody, brief badgers jogging at a very
admirable carol service, which had reggae music playing in the background and two intelligent uncles
bouncing to the beat.
Suddenly, Jenny lunged forward and tried to punch Gary in the face. Quickly, Gary grabbed the tattered
knife and brought it down on Jenny's skull.

Jenny's dirty toes trembled and her blonde legs wobbled. She looked sparkly, her emotions raw like a
relieved, ripe rock.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Jenny Randall was
dead.

Gary Rockatansky went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.

THE END