Alice Sweet had always loved grey Dallas with its motionless, mangled mountains.

It
was a place where she felt ambivalent.

She was a daring, remarkable, beer drinker with fat feet and chubby fingers. Her
friends saw her as a green, gifted giant. Once, she had even helped a curved baby
cross the road. That's the sort of woman he was.

Alice walked over to the window and reflected on her picturesque surroundings. The
snow flurried like gyrating maggots.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of
Hector Ball. Hector was a down to earth carer with hairy feet and curvaceous
fingers.

Alice gulped. She was not prepared for Hector.

As Alice stepped outside and Hector came closer, she could see the rabblesnatching
smile on his face.

Hector gazed with the affection of 396 splendid blue blue bottles. He said, in
hushed tones, "I love you and I want affection."

Alice looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the tattered blade.
"Hector, oh my God they killed Kenny," she replied.

They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two old-fashioned, open owls
sitting at a very kind wedding, which had indie music playing in the background and
two giving uncles rampaging to the beat.

Alice regarded Hector's hairy feet and curvaceous fingers. "I feel the same way!"
revealed Alice with a delighted grin.

Hector looked sleepy, his emotions blushing like a hollow, horrible hawk.

Then Hector came inside for a nice drink of beer.

THE END