Beth Greenway looked at the warped teapot in her hands and felt active.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her snooty surroundings. She had
always loved rural Sludgeside with its squidgy, selfish swamps. It was a place that
encouraged her tendency to feel active.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of
Garth Malkovich. Garth was a down to earth animal with handsome ankles and charming
abs.

Beth gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a clumsy, tactless, port
drinker with greasy ankles and charming abs. Her friends saw her as a quarrelsome,
queenlike queen. Once, she had even saved a stupid toddler that was stuck in a
drain.

But not even a clumsy person who had once saved a stupid toddler that was stuck in
a drain, was prepared for what Garth had in store today.

The snow flurried like jogging hamsters, making Beth anxious.

As Beth stepped outside and Garth came closer, she could see the ugliest smile on
his face.

"Look Beth," growled Garth, with a daring glare that reminded Beth of down to earth
goldfish. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want revenge. You owe me 9203 gold
pieces."

Beth looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the warped teapot. "Garth,
d'oh," she replied.

They looked at each other with happy feelings, like two foolish, fat foxes shouting
at a very peculiar funeral, which had R & B music playing in the background and two
greedy uncles dancing to the beat.

Suddenly, Garth lunged forward and tried to punch Beth in the face. Quickly, Beth
grabbed the warped teapot and brought it down on Garth's skull.

Garth's handsome ankles trembled and his charming abs wobbled. He looked anxious,
his wallet raw like a roasted, rabblesnatching record.

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

Beth Greenway went back inside and made herself a nice glass of port.

THE END