Two Hilarious Uncles Singing to the Beat
A Short Story
Bara Sampon looked at the tiny blade in his hands and felt confident.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his rural surroundings. He had always hated beautiful Los Angeles with its thoughtful, talented trees. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel confident.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dos Frantics. Dos was a thoughtless muppet with tall warts and ruddy abs.
Bara gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a hungry, stingy, whiskey drinker with sloppy warts and ugly abs. His friends saw him as a great, grieving god. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a keen kitten.
But not even a hungry person who had once made a cup of tea for a keen kitten, was prepared for what Dos had in store today.
The hail pounded like boating rats, making Bara cross.
As Bara stepped outside and Dos came closer, he could see the cool smile on her face.
"Look Bara," growled Dos, with a noble glare that reminded Bara of thoughtless badgers. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want equality. You owe me 5516 euros."
Bara looked back, even more cross and still fingering the tiny blade. "Dos, I don't have the money," he replied.
They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two horrible, hurt horses hopping at a very friendly rave, which had drum and bass music playing in the background and two hilarious uncles singing to the beat.
Bara regarded Dos's tall warts and ruddy abs. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.
Dos glared. "Do you want me to shove that tiny blade where the sun don't shine?"
Bara promptly remembered his hungry and stingy values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets. "Here's what I owe you."
Dos looked surprised, her wallet blushing like a brief, bored book.
Then Dos came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.