DarthMikakis Toosmall had always loved dirty Shanghai with its curved, clever cliffs. It was a place where he felt calm.
He was an optimistic, courageous, port drinker with pink warts and feathery spots. His friends saw him as a kaleidoscopic, knotty knight. Once, he had even brought an uninterested puppy back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.
DarthMikakis walked over to the window and reflected on his deprived surroundings. The snow flurried like bopping snakes.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Juaque Mioff. Juaque was an admirable lawyer with ample warts and curvaceous spots.
DarthMikakis gulped. He was not prepared for Juaque.
As DarthMikakis stepped outside and Juaque came closer, he could see the iffy glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want a resolution," Juaque bellowed, in a mean tone. She slammed her fist against DarthMikakis's chest, with the force of 9408 ostriches. "I frigging love you, DarthMikakis Toosmall."
DarthMikakis looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the ribbed hawk. "Juaque, I love you and lets make love," he replied.
They looked at each other with sleepy feelings, like two lovely, lonely lizards rampaging at a very hopeful funeral, which had jazz music playing in the background and two sinister uncles gyrating to the beat.
DarthMikakis regarded Juaque's ample warts and curvaceous spots. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.
"Hmph," pondered Juaque.
"Please?" begged DarthMikakis with puppy dog eyes.
Juaque looked relaxed, her body blushing like a boiling, brief book.
Then Juaque came inside for a nice glass of port.
THE END
Thanks for reading,
The Invisible Man
