Sam Laury had always loved deserted Vista with its uneven, crooked streets. It was a place where he felt anxious.
He was a peculiar, incredible, wine drinker with skinny toenails and curvaceous thighs. His friends saw him as a violet, villainous vicar. Once, he had even helped a colorful injured bird recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of man he was.
Sam walked over to the window and reflected on his deprived surroundings. The idea of securing a cash loan lingered.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dorothy Young. Dorothy was a ruthless wally with painted toenails and fragile thighs.
Sam gulped. He was not prepared for Dorothy.
As Sam stepped outside and Dorothy came closer, he could see the powerless glint in her eye.
"Look Sam," growled Dorothy, with a delightful glare that reminded Sam of his ex-wife. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want some more Facebook friends. You owe me 5854 dollars."
Sam looked back, even more cross and still fingering the minuscule amount of change in his pocket. "Dorothy, I am your boyfriend," he replied.
They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two friendly, fast foxes talking at a very snotty dinner party, which had flute music playing in the background and two gossiping uncle in the background.
Sam regarded Dorothy's painted toenails and fragile thighs. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.
Dorothy glared. "Do you want me to tell everyone you are a cheapskate?"
Sam promptly remembered his peculiar and incredible values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets and found his old diamond wedding ring. "Here's what I owe you in jewels."
Dorothy looked sneezy, her wallet blushing like a rabblesnatching, ripe ruler.
Then Dorothy came closer and said "Fin!", I will take this to the pawnshop for a collateral loan!
THE END
He was a peculiar, incredible, wine drinker with skinny toenails and curvaceous thighs. His friends saw him as a violet, villainous vicar. Once, he had even helped a colorful injured bird recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of man he was.
Sam walked over to the window and reflected on his deprived surroundings. The idea of securing a cash loan lingered.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dorothy Young. Dorothy was a ruthless wally with painted toenails and fragile thighs.
Sam gulped. He was not prepared for Dorothy.
As Sam stepped outside and Dorothy came closer, he could see the powerless glint in her eye.
"Look Sam," growled Dorothy, with a delightful glare that reminded Sam of his ex-wife. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want some more Facebook friends. You owe me 5854 dollars."
Sam looked back, even more cross and still fingering the minuscule amount of change in his pocket. "Dorothy, I am your boyfriend," he replied.
They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two friendly, fast foxes talking at a very snotty dinner party, which had flute music playing in the background and two gossiping uncle in the background.
Sam regarded Dorothy's painted toenails and fragile thighs. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.
Dorothy glared. "Do you want me to tell everyone you are a cheapskate?"
Sam promptly remembered his peculiar and incredible values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets and found his old diamond wedding ring. "Here's what I owe you in jewels."
Dorothy looked sneezy, her wallet blushing like a rabblesnatching, ripe ruler.
Then Dorothy came closer and said "Fin!", I will take this to the pawnshop for a collateral loan!
THE END
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