Mac Death had always hated castly Castle Town with its puny, purring people. It was a place where he felt grumpy.

He was a red, red, tea drinker with skinny hands and skinny jazz hands. His friends saw him as a clumsy, cold dinosaur. Once, he had even helped a smelly puppy cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.

Mac walked over to the window and reflected on his towny surroundings. The rain hammered like running dogs.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Macc and Cheese. Macc was a red gamer with skinny hands and skinny jazz hands.

Mac gulped. He was not prepared for Macc.

As Mac stepped outside and Macc came closer, he could feel the defiant smile on his face.

"I am here because I want a hug," Macc bellowed, in a red tone. He slammed his fist against Mac's chest, with the force of 7302 dogs. "I frigging love you, Mac Death."

Mac looked back, even more happy and still fingering the red blade. "Macc, whoops! Sorry," he replied.

They looked at each other with sad feelings, like two deep, difficult dogs running at a very red party, which had trance music playing in the background and two cheese  people running to the beat.

Mac regarded Macc's skinny hands and skinny jazz hands. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered.

"Hmph," pondered Macc.

"Please?" begged Mac.

Mac looked depressed, his body blushing like a banana. He left, soon afterward.

Then Mac came inside for a nice cup of tea.

THE END