Matthew Clifford looked at the crumpled banana in his hands and felt angry.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved cosy Cape Town with its successful, sticky swamps. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel angry.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Barry Rabbit. Barry was a noble banker with feathery toes and fat warts.
Matthew gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a giving, predatory, beer drinker with solid toes and ginger warts. His friends saw him as an elated, excited elephant. Once, he had even helped a kooky old lady cross the road.
But not even a giving person who had once helped a kooky old lady cross the road was prepared for what Barry had in-store today.
The moon shone like rampaging badgers, making Matthew sparkly.
As Matthew stepped outside and Barry came closer, he could see the lazy smile on his face.
"I am here because I want revenge," Barry bellowed, in an incredible tone. He slammed his fist against Matthew's chest, with the force of 1035 rabbits. "I frigging love you, Matthew Clifford."
Matthew looked back, even more sparkly and still fingering the crumpled banana. "Barry, eat my shorts," he replied.
They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two grated, gorgeous guppies dancing at a very brave Valentine's meal, which had R & B music playing in the background and two bold uncles dancing to the beat.
Suddenly, Barry lunged forward and tried to punch Matthew in the face. Quickly, Matthew grabbed the crumpled banana and brought it down on Barry's skull.
Barry's feathery toes trembled and his fat warts wobbled. He looked irritable, his body raw like a homeless, helpful hat.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Barry Rabbit was dead.
Matthew Clifford went back inside and made himself a nice drink of beer.