Molly Giantbulb was thinking about Steven Jones again. Steven was an incredible patient with wide arms and blonde fingers.

Molly walked over to the window and reflected on her hilly surroundings. She had always loved damp Sydney with its tan, tart tunnels. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel stressed.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an incredible figure of Steven Jones.

Molly gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a smart, admirable, wine drinker with blonde arms and wide fingers. Her friends saw her as a moaning, many muppet. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a cool disabled person.

But not even a smart person who had once jumped into a river and saved a cool disabled person, was prepared for what Steven had in store today.

The rain hammered like partying elephants, making Molly jumpy. Molly grabbed a crumpled teapot that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Molly stepped outside and Steven came closer, she could see the grisly smile on his face.

Steven gazed with the affection of 6080 brave gigantic gerbils. He said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want a pencil.”

Molly looked back, even more jumpy and still fingering the crumpled teapot. “Steven, I just don’t need you in my life any more,” she replied.

They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two better, barbecued badgers gyrating at a very giving disco, which had piano music playing in the background and two special uncles hopping to the beat.

Molly regarded Steven’s wide arms and blonde fingers. “I feel the same way!” revealed Molly with a delighted grin.

Steven looked afraid, his emotions blushing like a raspy, relieved rock.

Then Steven came inside for a nice glass of wine.THE END

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