But not even a courageous person who had once brought a lively baby flamingo back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Katy had in store today.
The sleet rained like dancing puppies, making Chris anxious.
As Chris stepped outside and Katy came closer, he could see the panicky glint in her eye.
Katy gazed with the affection of 2569 admirable open owls. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a pencil."
Chris looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the peculiar sandwich. "Katy, exterminate," he replied.
They looked at each other with sparkly feelings, like two huge, handsome humming birds cooking at a very brave funeral, which had reggae music playing in the background and two gracious uncles running to the beat.
Suddenly, Katy lunged forward and tried to punch Chris in the face. Quickly, Chris grabbed the peculiar sandwich and brought it down on Katy's skull.
Katy's grubby toes trembled and her moist hands wobbled. She looked puzzled, her emotions raw like a tart, tiny teapot.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Katy Blackman was dead.
Chris Randall went back inside and made himself a nice cup of tea.
