Two Cowardly Uncles Jumping to the Beat A Short Story by thebway

Two Cowardly Uncles Jumping to the Beat
A Short Story
by thebway

Chad Vader was thinking about Maureen Blackman again. Maureen was a cute carer with grubby fingers and hairy moles.

Chad walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always loved urban Skegness with its glorious, good gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a cute figure of Maureen Blackman.

Chad gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a noble, tactless, wine drinker with fragile fingers and pointy moles. His friends saw him as a rotten, rabblesnatching rover. Once, he had even rescued a grumpy chicken from a burning building.

But not even a noble person who had once rescued a grumpy chicken from a burning building, was prepared for what Maureen had in store today.

The snow flurried like loving monkeys, making Chad irritable. Chad grabbed a squidgy record that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Chad stepped outside and Maureen came closer, he could see the high-pitched smile on her face.

"Look Chad," growled Maureen, with a cowardly glare that reminded Chad of cute rabbits. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want love. You owe me 4397 gold pieces."

Chad looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the squidgy record. "Maureen, what a spiffing dress," he replied.

They looked at each other with fuzzy feelings, like two straight, sour snakes eating at a very scheming snow storm, which had jazz music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles jumping to the beat.

Chad regarded Maureen's grubby fingers and hairy moles. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.

Maureen glared. "Do you want me to shove that squidgy record where the sun don't shine?"

Chad promptly remembered his noble and tactless values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Maureen looked healthy, her wallet blushing like a silent, strong sausage.

Then Maureen came inside for a nice glass of wine.

THE END