The Spotty Rock - A Short Story

The Spotty Rock

A Short Story

by raiderredjd

Mike Rhyner looked at the spotty rock in his hands and felt happy.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his lively surroundings. He had always loved fun Sneaky Pete's with its lively, late lake. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Corby Davidson. Corby was a scheming monster with handsome toes and squat legs.

Mike gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an intelligent, sympathetic, beer drinker with brown toes and greasy legs. His friends saw him as a lively, late legend. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a shivering kitten.

But not even an intelligent person who had once made a cup of tea for a shivering kitten, was prepared for what Corby had in store today.

The drizzle rained like shouting dogs, making Mike afraid.

As Mike stepped outside and Corby came closer, he could see the xenotropic glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want revenge," Corby bellowed, in a ruthless tone. He slammed his fist against Mike's chest, with the force of 7037 bears. "I frigging hate you, Mike Rhyner."

Mike looked back, even more afraid and still fingering the spotty rock. "Corby, hey little buddy," he replied.

They looked at each other with sad feelings, like two gifted, great goldfish partying at a very charming dinner party, which had rock music playing in the background and two gentle uncles laughing to the beat.

Suddenly, Corby lunged forward and tried to punch Mike in the face. Quickly, Mike grabbed the spotty rock and brought it down on Corby's skull.

Corby's handsome toes trembled and his squat legs wobbled. He looked distressed, his body raw like a thoughtful, tense torch.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Corby Davidson was dead.

Mike Rhyner went back inside and made himself a nice drink of beer.

THE END