Mochoa

Raymond Rockatansky looked at the bendy blade in his hands and felt lonely.


He walked over to the window and reflected on his dull surroundings. He had always loved hilly Chicago with its joyous, jealous jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel lonely.


Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Rob Superhalk. Rob was an understanding coward with tall toes and squat ankles.


Raymond gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a kind, snotty, cocoa drinker with pretty toes and blonde ankles. His friends saw him as a knobbly, kooky knight. Once, he had even rescued a loopy kitten from a burning building.


But not even a kind person who had once rescued a loopy kitten from a burning building, was prepared for what Rob had in store today.


The drizzle rained like talking humming birds, making Raymond barmy.


As Raymond stepped outside and Rob came closer, he could see the blue-eyed smile on his face.


Rob gazed with the affection of 9279 kind klutzy kittens. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want some more Twitter followers."


Raymond looked back, even more barmy and still fingering the bendy blade. "Rob, let's get married," he replied.


They looked at each other with jumpy feelings, like two bumpy, burnt badgers rampaging at a very snooty engagement party, which had piano music playing in the background and two virtuous uncles bopping to the beat.


Raymond studied Rob's tall toes and squat ankles. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Raymond in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Rob."


Rob looked afraid, his emotions raw like a shallow, sparkling sausage.


Raymond could actually hear Rob's emotions shatter into 3959 pieces. Then the understanding coward hurried away into the distance.


Not even a mug of cocoa would calm Raymond's nerves tonight.