Rebecca Snozcumber had always hated cold Falmouth with its blue, bad beaches. It was a place where she felt stressed. She was a calculating, intelligent, cocoa drinker with wobbly eyes and tall legs. Her friends saw her as a precious, pickled pioneer. Once, she had even revived a dying, grandmother. That's the sort of woman he was.Rebecca walked over to the window and reflected on her windy surroundings. The snow flurried like shivering tortoises. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Karl Ramsbottom. Karl was a spiteful serpent with moist eyes and spiky legs. Rebecca gulped. She was not prepared for Karl. As Rebecca stepped outside and Karl came closer, she could see the blushing glint in his eye. "Look Rebecca," growled Karl, with a controlling glare that reminded Rebecca of spiteful owls. "I hate you and I want revenge. You owe me 4238 dollars." Rebecca looked back, even more furious and still fingering the weathered teapot. "Karl, I don't have the money," she replied. They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two gloppy, grotesque gerbils shouting at a very predatory blizzard, which had smooth jazz music playing in the background and two malicious uncles spriting to the beat. Suddenly, Karl lunged forward and tried to punch Rebecca in the face. Quickly, Rebecca grabbed the weathered teapot and brought it down on Karl's skull. Karl's moist eyes trembled and his spiky legs wobbled. He looked delighted, his wallet raw like a broad, black blade. Then he let out an agonizing groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Karl Ramsbottom was dead. Rebecca Snozcumber went back inside and made herself a nice mug of cocoa.

That was horrid and I feel ashamed for even writing it.